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Tonight’s show was insane.
The crowd was wild, but the excitement I felt dancing was something I’ve been trying to get back for some time now. I don’t know how it happened, but somewhere over the last couple of weeks, this tour has gotten sort of fun. Outside of tonight, the only times I’ve felt alive while dancing is when I have a good alone session, and always when a certain man is watching.
After allowing him to finally touch me again, it’s like my mind feels clearer and my confidence has risen. Something about the way he needs me feels otherworldly.
Ignoring the tremor in my hands as I rush from the car, I hurry to my room to change, before heading back to the lobby. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. The more we perform, the less important food becomes. My focus is on so many other things, and tonight, my focus was getting back to the studio.
Volunteering to spend time with Jett Parker isn’t something I had on my bingo card for this year, but right now, I need it.
On stage tonight, I felt a freeing presence. Like I was getting back all the things that had been taken from me, and the only way I know how to keep feeling them is by being with him.
Just as he said, Jett’s waiting in the valet area the second I exit the lobby. Beelining to his car, I slouch into the smooth leather, hating the instant comfort it provides me.
Or maybe I love it.
“Good to know you miss me already.” Jett’s humor hits me the second I’m comfortable.
“You know everything isn’t about you, right?”
Drawing back like I struck him, Jett’s hand grips his chest, a shit-eating grin splayed across his face.
“It’s not?”
An airy laugh flows from my mouth. Mortified that he’ll catch me, I slap my hand across my face to hold it in.
“Did I just make you laugh?”
His eyes are wide and inspecting, a glow stretching from dimple to dimple. Shaking my head, I keep my hand over my mouth and try to turn the other way, but his hand reaches my thigh before I can.
“Sofia baby, don’t tell me you think I’m funny. It may give me a complex.”
Smiling into my hand, I drop it along with my face, so I don’t give myself away.
“I wasn’t laughing because you’re funny. I was laughing at how delusional you are.”
Rolling the car into drive, Jett squeals like a schoolgirl and places his hand right back on my thigh like there’s some magnet forcing it to stay in place.
“All of that sounds the same in my head.”
Rolling my eyes playfully, I tilt my head toward the window and finally release the smile that won’t stop creeping onto my face.
After shows, the high is always gone the second I step off the stage. But tonight, it won’t go away. I’m inspired. My choreographer juices flowing so rapidly in my head, movements I want to try, sequences I know will pair so perfectly with Haven’s song, and it’s only strengthening in Jett’s presence.
I’m starting to think I’m gaining much more than an alibi and an empty studio from this arrangement.
He lightens my mood, but it doesn’t take much for my priorities to creep back in. The pressure I’ve put on myself to make this dance the best. The small changes I’ve slowly forced myself into just to fit a square peg into a circle.
The remainder of the ride is short but silent, and when we finally pull into the empty parking lot, I gather my belongings before he can even place the car in park.
“If you need me, I’ll be right here.” Jett’s voice is quiet and calming, lacking the push he had earlier.
“Thanks,” I say in a rush, before pushing the car door open and heading into the studio.
If the thought of what he did to me last night was what livened my body on stage tonight, surely having him on the other side of the wall will suffice.
I pull my sweatshirt over my head and readjust my boobs in my sports bra, shimmying my sweats low on my hips.
In a quick assessment, I study myself in the mirror. My eyes trail over my body, stopping and picking apart different places that I hardly noticed before. After years of dance training, I’ve acquired muscle that would take me years to rid. Call it genetics, but my body composition left no room for confusion of whether I train for a living.
