One Night Only

  I wanted to work extra hours since I didn't have class, but my boss saw me limping as well and would've sent me home too if I hadn't told him that I needed the money. As it was, he hovered over me so much that it was almost worse than not being able to dance. He did let me pick up some extra hours on Friday, but that was only after Cecily called off. We couldn't handle our busiest night with just one waitress. He needed me and I was glad for the work.

  Anastascia wasn't any help, but only because I didn't tell her about my futile attempts to make contact. I let her assume that I was giving him room to grieve, and I tried to convince myself of that too… that Julien was just mourning and didn't want to share his grief. I didn't let myself remember how he'd said he hated his dad. To me, that should have made things easier for him to handle, but I didn't understand that part of his situation. I'd loved my mother and her loss was still a gaping hole in my life.

  I spent most of the day Saturday on the couch, my foot propped up and on ice. I'd overdone it the night before at work and knew if I didn't stay off it and let it heal, I risked permanent injury. If I wasn't careful, I'd lose my spot in The Nutcracker and worse, the opportunity it presented.

  It was the end of the second week in December. The city was full of lights and decorations. Christmas music was playing everywhere that had speakers. People were shopping, their arms full of brightly-colored packages.

  I had a Christmas tree up and lights all around the living room thanks to Anastascia. This was my favorite time of year and I should have been thrilled to be spending it in my own place. It'd be the first Christmas I'd have off since before I went to Vegas, and before that, I'd spent the previous three Christmases in the hospital with my mom. But I couldn't find enjoyment in the decorations or even the specials I spent the entire day watching. If this kept going on, my first Christmas back in Philadelphia was going to turn out to be worse than Thanksgiving.

  Then, finally, Sunday morning, he picked up his phone. Instantly, I could tell something wasn't right. It wasn't just the normal sadness that came from the loss of a parent. He sounded distant.

  “I was wondering how you were doing.” I started there because it was the truth. I was worried about him. I knew how rough it was to lose a parent and how easy it was to just shut people out. If I hadn't had Anastascia when my mom had died, I didn't know what I would've done.

  “Keeping busy.” His voice was flat. He didn't sound angry with me or cold or anything like that, but he also didn't have his usual warmth.

  “That's good.” I tried another tact. I really didn't want to have this confession over the phone, especially since we were going to have to deal with what had happened between us the night his dad had died. “I was wondering if you'd like to get a cup of coffee tomorrow morning.”

  I heard the hesitation, and then Julien spoke, “I'm busy tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” I tried not to sound hurt. “What about Tuesday? Or whenever you're free next.”

  “Yeah, Piper, thing is, I don't know when I'll have some free time. I've been super busy lately.”

  I felt tears sting at my eyes and was thankful Anastascia was in the shower. I didn't want her to see me like this. I was pushing too hard, being too clingy. With everything Julien had been through, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he wanted some space.

  “Look, I have to go.” Julien sounded uncomfortable. “I'll talk to you later.”

  The call ended before I got anything else out. I stared at my phone, unable to believe the way the conversation had gone. Anger cut through everything else. I understand being busy or distracted, but not even giving me a chance to say good-bye? That was rude, and totally unlike Julien.

  I dialed him back, debating between calling him out on it and point-blank asking him what was wrong.

  I didn't get to do either. This time, the call didn't ring and ring until it automatically went to voicemail. It barely got one ring in before the familiar robotic voice was asking me to leave a message. Julien had deliberately sent my call to voicemail. He didn't want to talk to me.

  The tears spilled over as hurt overcame my anger. I didn't understand. I thought he'd cared about me and now he was treating me like I'd been some one-night stand. Horror washed over me. Was it possible that's what he considered me? He'd said what we'd done had been a mistake, but I'd taken that to mean that he didn't want to ruin our friendship. I hadn't even considered that was his way of telling me he'd gotten what he'd wanted and was finished.

  “Piper?” Anastascia sat next to me but I didn't look up at her. “What happened? Is it your ankle?”

  I shook my head. “My ankle's fine.” That, at least, was mostly true. With yesterday's rest and some anti-inflamatories, it was almost back to normal. That should've made me happy, but this thing with Julien made that impossible.

  “You finally reached Julien,” she said. “What happened?”

  I quickly repeated the conversation. Considering how short it had been, it didn't take long. Then, I finally gave voice to my concerns. “Because of what happened with Reed and Brock, did he think I'd be easy and then once he'd fucked me, he didn't want me anymore? I mean, it wasn't like we made promises to each other, but I thought for sure he cared about me.”

  “I thought so too.” Anastascia frowned. “The way that boy was looking at you when he thought you weren't looking. It was clear as day.”

  “So what happened?” My cheeks flushed as a possibility occurred to me. “Was I bad in bed?”

  “Hon, from what you told me, I don't think that was the case.” She put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Then what is it?” I sniffled. “Do I just attract assholes or something?” I rubbed at my eyes. “It makes sense, I guess. I mean, look at what I spent the last two years doing.”

  “No,” Anastascia said firmly. “You are not doing that. Reed and Brock were mistakes, and Reed even ended up apologizing for the way he behaved.”

  She had a point, but I couldn't completely agree. I had no idea how Reed was going to deal with the fact that I didn't want to try things with him. I'd been too chicken to call him yet.

  “I've seen you with Julien and heard the way you two talked to each other. He's been into you from moment one.”

  “What?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Honey, guys don't deck their best friends for how they treated a woman unless they care about that woman.” She shrugged. “Or at least the ones I've seen don't. You two have been friends, but the only thing that's kept him from trying to make it something more is how skittish you've been.” She pursed her lips. “And, it didn’t help that you've been pining over Reed this whole time.”

  I couldn't argue with her there.

  “Something had to have happened.”

  “Something did,” I reminded her. “His dad died and then we fucked.”

  She shook her head. “That's not it.”

  “He said it was a mistake the next morning.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “That's just boy talk for being freaked out.” Her eyes widened. “Shit. How long after Reed left did Julien come downstairs?”

  “A couple minutes. Why?” I gave her a puzzled look.

  She raised her finger, like she was Sherlock solving a mystery. “Julien heard Reed say he was getting divorced and that he wanted you back.”

  “And…” I prompted, but realized I already knew what she was going to say.

  “So, he hears that the man you've been in love with since you were a teenager is leaving his wife to be with you. I'll bet he thought you'd slept with him in the heat of the moment because you felt sorry for him but that you really wanted to be with Reed.”

  “But…” I breathed. “I didn't even know what I wanted. And I told Reed to leave because I needed to think.”

  “Piper, I love you, but you suck when it comes to men.”

  “Thanks,” I said dryly. I knew it was true, but that didn't mean I liked being reminded of it.

  “Julien was vulnerable. His guard wa
s down. He knew how you felt about Reed and he didn't know you'd started to think about him in any way other than as a friend.”

  That made sense when I thought about it. After all, I hadn't figured it out, so how could I have expected Julien to? But, I still wasn't sure her explanation was correct. “Still, I kept calling him. That should've been a hint. It's not like I showed any preferential treatment to Reed or anything...” My eyes went wide as it hit me. “Oh fuck.”

  “What?”

  I sighed. “The day of Julien's father's funeral, when I went to find a bathroom–”

  “And Reed asked you to go out with him,” Anastascia supplied.

  I nodded. “I completely forgot until just now that Julien was there.”

  “What?!” she exclaimed. “How can you forget something like that?”

  “It wasn't like he was standing right there next to me,” I said. “But when I was walking back upstairs, I saw him. He must've overheard me agreeing to go out with Reed.” I flopped back on the couch. “What am I going to do?”

  “You have to explain it to him. All of it,” she said. “You have to tell him that you fell for him, that you aren't in love with Reed. Tell him he's the one you want to be with.”

  Yeah, that sounded good. In theory. “Easier said than done. He's not taking my calls, remember?”

  Anastascia stood. “Then you don't call.” She held out her hand. “You have to go to him.”

  “I don't know,” I said reluctantly.

  “Grow a pair,” she snapped. “Do you love the boy or not?”

  I answered automatically, “Yes.”

  “Then you have to tell him.” She pulled me to my feet. “Let's get you dressed and then I'll drive you over.”

  “Oh, yeah, that's going to be great. You sitting outside his loft while I go in and try to convince him of how I feel.”

  “I'm dropping you off,” she said as she led me upstairs. “If things go well, Julien can take care of getting you home.” She grinned. “Maybe tomorrow morning.”

  I glared at her. “And if things don't go well?”

  “Then you take a cab or give me a call. Either way, you're going.”

  Six

  I tried to convince Anastascia to let me drive myself, but she insisted, saying I'd chicken out and not go through with it. I had to admit that a part of me had considered that a possibility. The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized she was right. I needed to do this. If Julien's distance was due to a misunderstanding, then I owed it to him, and to myself, to clear things up. Even if I'd read him wrong and he didn't want to be with me, he deserved to know how I really felt.

  I'd kept the clothes simple, mostly because it was cold outside and I'd be putting my coat, scarf, hat and gloves on before I went. It still wasn't the coldest it would get this winter, but I'd missed the last two winters. It was taking me a while to get back into it.

  When I was finally satisfied that I look nice even beneath the bulk, I got into Anastascia's car and let her drive me the half a dozen blocks to the loft Julien had bought at the end of October. I'd been there a couple of times and absolutely loved it. It was the entire top floor of an apartment building, with most of the walls knocked out to leave three bedrooms, two baths and then a giant open space that served as kitchen, dining room and living room all at once.

  “Good luck,” Anastascia said solemnly as I got out of the car.

  It was evidence of how nervous I was that I gave her a wobbly smile and thanks rather than flipping her off in an attempt at dark humor. She waited until I was in the lobby before she pulled away. I used the elevator rather than the stairs, not wanting to put the extra strain on my ankle. It was still feeling good, but I knew that any extra exertion could hurt it. But as soon as the elevator door closed, I felt suffocated and then I had six floors of riding to think about all the ways this could go wrong.

  I could've misread the signs and it really had been just a mistake brought about by too much emotion.

  He could be angry at me for going out with Reed in the first place.

  My numerous calls made him think I was some psycho stalker.

  He realized he didn't care about me as much as I cared about him.

  He was more upset about his father than I'd realized and none of this was about me at all.

  When the doors opened, I was struck with the nearly overwhelming urge to ride back down and tell Anastascia that Julien hadn't been home. She'd be able to tell I was lying though, so I knew that wouldn't work.

  I forced myself off of the elevator and across the few feet that separated me from the door to Julien's loft. I raised my hand and knocked, the sound loud in my ears.

  I heard footsteps from inside, then locks being undone. The door opened and Julien was standing there. It was nearly noon, but he was wearing only a robe, telling me he hadn't been up long. His hair was wet, though not dripping, and hung in his face. I'd told him at the beginning of November that he needed a trim, but it didn't look like he'd done it. His eyes brightened when he saw me and a rush of emotion went through me.

  If I'd had any sort of doubt that I'd made the right choice, it vanished when I looked at him. There was a deep, physical reaction to seeing him standing there, his robe belted loosely around his waist, a strip of smooth skin visible. The memory of what his chest felt like under my hands made my palms itch to touch him and see if it was like I remembered. And then there was the way my heart constricted when our eyes met. In that brief moment, I could see into his soul and it was just as beautiful as he was. There was the man who'd defended my honor every time Brock had done something. The man who'd been there to hold me when I'd been hurting and had never asked for anything in return. He'd supported me, helped me without thought of reciprocation. He'd been my friend and then my lover. He was the one I wanted.

  I smiled and opened my mouth to tell him all that, to confess everything and then step into his arms. Hope surged through me.

  Movement behind him caught my attention and my world came crashing down.

  Tall, slender, with perfect skin and wet blond hair, a towel-clad woman walked out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen.

  Instinct kicked in and I chose flight rather than fight. I ran back to the elevator and slammed my hand against the button. I heard Julien call my name and prayed that the door would open before he got to me. I couldn't do this. I was barely holding on as it was. My insides felt like they were being torn apart and I needed to be away from here so I could deal with the pain.

  The doors dinged and I darted inside, hitting the lobby button before I'd even stopped moving. I caught a glimpse of Julien's confused expression before the doors closed and down I went. I ran as soon as the doors opened in the lobby. I didn't want to take a chance that he'd gone down the stairs and could be only a minute or two behind me. I couldn't talk to him, couldn't even look at him right now.

  I stumbled, twisting my bad ankle enough to send a flare of pain shooting through it, but I didn't stop. I needed to get away. Somewhere. Anywhere I could hide and think without risking Julien finding me.

  As I ran, it began to snow. Fat flakes that stuck to my eyelashes and got in my mouth while I was trying to breathe. They forced me to slow down and when I did, I looked around to see where I was. I wasn't too far from home, but Anastascia was there. I couldn't face her. Not yet. But, there was a place I could go.

  The church service was just letting out, so it was easy enough to slip inside without anyone noticing me. I took a seat in a back corner pew, obviously meant for latecomers or maybe some people from the church who watched for troublemakers. Either way, it was warm and dry, and if I bowed my head and closed my eyes, people should leave me alone.

  I could hear people around me, but I tuned them out as I gave myself over to the agony trying to claw its way out of my chest. With my scarf pressed to my face, I was able to cry unnoticed, and my hands covered my mouth, muffling the sounds.

  Everything in me hurt. My heart felt like i
t was being ripped out of my chest and stomped on. It was worse than what I'd felt with Reed, or with Brock, because what I felt for Julien was so much stronger. He hadn't been a rebound or some guy I'd had a crush on for years. I'd thought I'd known him. We'd spent time together, talking. We'd shared things about our lives.

  And I'd been just another conquest to him. A notch in his bedpost.

  A bitter thought came to me. Maybe he and Brock had planned the whole thing, using what Brock had done as a way to get me to trust Julien. Was all of this just some sick joke?

  My stomach lurched and it took everything in me not to throw up. I'd trusted him almost as much as I trusted Anastascia, and I could see how that had been a mistake. She'd proven herself to me over the years and we'd become friends when we'd been younger and a bit more innocent. I should've known better than to let my guard down with anyone, especially someone from one of those kinds of families. People like me were just playthings to them.

  As my tears subsided and the pain turned into a steady ache, my head began to clear. I'd come back to Philadelphia despite what had happened with Reed and Brock because Julien had convinced me that I should follow my heart and my heart was in dance. I loved working with Madam Emilana and I loved my job. I just needed to decide if staying here was worth the new painful memories. I wasn't even sure I could sleep in my room since it reminded me of Julien and our one night together. For the first time since I'd returned, I was back to feeling like I didn't really have a home.