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But by the end of class, I’m confident this partnership is going to challenge my patience, which I don’t possess in excess amounts. We’ve made decent headway, and I find that when we do come together successfully, Trent is quite physically adept. But I’m confident I’ll have to stay on top of him if he’s going to be an adequate partner. His attention span is lacking, and he seems more intent on maintaining his perfectly casual hairstyle than he is my balance. I even caught him making kissy faces at himself in the mirror at one point in between our runs. Dear god, I think I’m stuck with hipster Zoolander for a partner.
I’m more than a little relieved when class is over for the day, and trying my best to crush the flicker of jealousy I feel at Anya’s luck of the draw. While I’m very happy for her, I wish there were two Fins so I could have a reasonable partner as well.
Practice with Trent after school goes no better, and the only thing that puts me in a better mood is Ilya’s spontaneous text asking when I’ll be done with my day because he wants to take me out. My stomach quivers with excitement, and I let him know I can be ready as soon as he gets here.
Perfect. Meet me at the north end of campus,he messages a moment later.
Okay. When?
Now.
My heart does a flip, and I look up from my phone to see Trent watching himself flex his biceps in the studio mirror as he waits for my return. I roll my eyes. Yep, I’m done practicing for the day.
“Trent, I’ve gotta split. I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Keep reviewing the choreography tonight!” I call as I slip out of my dance shoes and into my boots.
Trent’s shocking-blue eyes register surprise, and I know I’m being rude to cut practice short, but I seriously can’t stand spending more time with him right now. Not when Ilya’s already waiting for me. The contrast is almost sad. I’m practically fleeing my partner’s presence to spend time with someone who’s literally paying for my education with the understanding that I not get attached. I’m pathetic. But as I slide into Ilya’s sleek blue sports car ten minutes later, I can’t ignore the way my chest expands with combined relief and excitement.
“That was quick,” Ilya observes with mild amusement, his dark brows rising toward his thick head of curls.
I laugh. “Normally, I’m not as eager to call it a day.”
“Oh? I thought this was later than you normally get out of class,” Ilya says, watching me as I buckle in and my door closes.
“Ugh. It is. But my choreography professor assigned us partners last week, and my partner and I are going to need a lot of extra work if we’re going to pull off our routine. I’ve never danced with anyone before, and Trent is…” I struggle to put words to my frustration. I don’t want to put all our challenges on Trent. Not this early in the game. After all, we’re both partnering for the first time. “Well, let’s just say it’s a major learning curve.”
“You’re dancing with a guy?” Ilya’s hand slips from the gear shift as he turns toward me, his eyes darkening as he frowns.
I fight to suppress the giggle the bubbles up through my lips. “Well, yeah. I mean, as a ballerina, I have to know how to do lifts, and normally guys are the only ones strong enough to partner with.”
“Lifts?” Ilya asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Yeah. Like inDraculathe other night when he would dance with the girl and, well,lifther over his head or support her leaps.” I gesture with my hands, trying to mimic how a guy might grip his dance partner around the waist and hold her up.
“I don’t know how I feel about another man putting his hands on you,” he growls.
Why that makes my heart stutter, I don’t know, but hearing the possessiveness in his tone makes my insides quiver. “It’s completely platonic. No pretend romance or anything, I promise. It just helps me do bigger dance moves, makes the performance more dramatic.”
Ilya eyes me skeptically.
“And I need to know how to work with a dance partner if I’m going to succeed as a ballerina. It requires a lot of core strength, balance, coordination. You wouldn’t believe how tricky it is just to get the timing right so we end up at the same place when we’re supposed to.”
“He better not get any ideas from this partnership.” Ilya’s tone is full of dark promise.
Another nervous giggle escapes my lips. I can’t help but feel good that he seems so defensive, even though he’s not supposed to care about me. And while it’s probably more that he doesn’t like sharing his women than that he has feelings for me, I almost wish it were a sign that he did. The thought strikes me straight through the chest, making it hard to breathe, and I blush as I realize I’m teetering dangerously close to letting my feelings get involved.
“It won’t lead to anything more than a dance partnership. Seriously. Maybe you should just meet Trent. Once you do, you’ll see you have no reason to worry about him.”
“Why? Is he gay?” The thought seems to please Ilya.
“Umm… I don’t actually know. I don’t think so? But please? If I set something up, will you come?” It’ll take Ilya two seconds to see just how intolerable Trent can be if he’s willing to meet him.
“Fine,” he says. “If you think it will help.”
I flash a winning smile. “Good. Now, let’s talk about something fun. Like where we’re going tonight.”
Ilya’s face shifts into a more playful expression. “You’ll see.”
I don’t know why I even try sometimes. After over a year with Ilya, I should know better. Still, the familiar anticipation of discovering what new adventure he has in mind hums through my veins. As he puts the car in gear and pulls out into traffic, a smile tugs at my lips. Now that my day of frustration is done, I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us.
