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13
Ram
It’s Cadie’s big night. I sit toward the front of the theater, my ticket in hand, picking at the edges as I wait for her to come on stage. The crowd rolls in around me. The mix of cologne and perfume leave a cloud in the air and gives me a slight headache. All these people are here to see my girl, the star of the show. They won’t be sorry. I imagine there won’t be a dry eye in the house by the time she’s done. It still gets to me every time, seeing her perform. It’s funny. Before meeting Cadie, if someone had told me I would be sitting here, right now, I would’ve laughed.
“Looks like I got here just in time,” Tim says, sliding into the seat beside me.
His wife waves at me. “Hi Ram, you look so handsome tonight.”
“And you look stunning, Marlene,” I tell her.
She blushes and waves the compliment away.
I introduced Cadie to them last week. They hit it off right away, and Tim actually told me he was proud of me. Tim is like a father to me. I respect his opinion. And the fact that he approves of Cadie just makes being with her even better.
“Thanks for being here,” I tell him.
He gives me a paternal smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The dark stage lights up and Cadie comes out, glowing in the spotlight. The music starts and her body begins to move. When she dances it’s as if everyone holds their breath. There’s not a single sound to be heard except the music. She leaps and jumps as if gravity doesn’t apply to her. Her body bends and twists as if she doesn’t have a spine.
Tim dabs at the corners of his eyes with the same dirty handkerchief he carries with him at work, and I smile. My heart swells with pride and love for my girl. At the end of her performance, the audience stands. The roar of applause is deafening. The yips and whistles ring in my ears long after the show is over.
“Tell Cadie she was amazing, won’t you?” Marlene says.
“She’s really something,” Tim says, tilting his head down so that I don’t see the tears still glittering in his eyes.
“You’re not going to go see her?” I say.
“Nah, she has plenty of admirers to keep her company.” Tim leans in and gives me a nudge with his elbow. “And I suspect you’ll be wanting to get her home as soon as possible.”
His not-so-subtle wink makes me laugh.
“Come on you old hound, stop embarrassing the boy and let’s get out of here before the traffic gets crazy,” Marlene says. She points at me. “You bring that girl over for dinner sometime next week.”
“I will,” I say.
Once Tim and Marlene are gone, I push my way through the packed house and head back stage to find her. Her fellow dancers surround her. I lean against a wall and watch her a moment. I’ve never seen someone light up from within the way she does. When she’s happy, everyone knows it. When she’s sad, hearts break. Right now I’m just basking in her light, soaking it in.
The other dancers in her troupe pat her on the back and tell her how amazing she did. Her smile is effervescent. As if sensing my presence, she looks around until she sees me and runs into my arms, tangling her limbs with mine in a crushing hug.
“I was so nervous,” she says, still out of breath.
The roar of other voices is too loud. I can barely hear her. I pull her into a nearby storage room away from the noisy crowd so we have some privacy. I look around the room. We’re surrounded by props and racks of costumes.
“You didn’t look nervous,” I tell her, brushing away stands of hair that stick to the sweat beading her forehead. “You looked stunning.”
Her smile beams. “I thought of you the entire time. Your encouragement got me through it,” she says.
I kiss her. It was only meant to be a peck, but she parts her lips and finds my tongue, deepening it. She pulls away only long enough to say, “I’m so fucking turned on right now.”
I smile as she pushes her lips back onto mine.
She’s wearing a cream-colored leotard. There isn’t much to it, just a thin veil of fabric for flexibility. When I brush my hand across her breasts, her nipples are hard and obvious. I pinch them through the fabric and she moans into my mouth. Damn, she really is turned on. Then again, I’ve noticed that about her. Every time she comes back from practice, she drags me straight to the bed. The exertion gets her frisky, or maybe it’s the adrenaline that comes along with it.
I run my finger along the fabric between her legs. Her arousal soaks through, wetting my fingers. She moves her hips, grinding against them. I move the fabric to the side. Just as my fingers are about to enter her, the door opens, and there’s a gasp from our intruder. Cadie startles and we both whip our heads around to see the trespasser.
A young woman with a blonde pixie cut stands in the doorway. She glances at me, then at Cadie. Her face blushes a deep crimson and she mutters apologies as she backs out and closes the door. I wedge a chair under the door handle so we won’t be disturbed again.
