Dances with Monsters(110)

"I do like him," Mr. Carnevale insisted. "But if he fucks up, he's still a dead man. Capisci?"

***

Later that evening Drew lay in the middle of her living room floor. She held scraps of black material in her hands and a pair of scissors. She had just finished rehearsing for a couple hours after moving all of her furniture out of the way, and had just spent a half an hour stretching out her muscles and toweling off the layer of sweat she'd found herself drenched in. She was extremely pleased with the outcome of her dance, and felt irritation that she wasn't able to use the studio at the Y that evening to get the full, completed and fine-tuned effect.

Her costume was going to be utterly simple, requiring only a little creativity and few choice snips of the scissors. She turned on some music, though she kept the volume moderately low as her crabby neighbors down the hall tended to get annoyed when she played anything even remotely loud. She folded in her legs and hunched over her project, her head bobbing to the beat of the hip hop song flowing from her speakers.

Within a half an hour, she'd made all of the cuts to her top that she wanted and was threading a needle when her phone went off behind her. She slid backward on the carpet to grab it, smiling when she saw who the message was from.

"Hope all is well and you're still in one piece…?"

"For the time being. It was touch and go there for a while. What are you up to?"

"Taking a little break from sparring with the guys. Connor came down to the gym and we've been going at it. He demanded a rematch from last time. He's a sore loser."

"I'll be sure to bring that up tomorrow evening. I sense that could be a very entertaining topic of conversation."

"I'd rather you didn't, if you don't mind. Speaking of, I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Wish it could have been tonight."

"Me too, but…duty calls for both of us. You miss me though. I understand."

"I don't really, not that much. You miss me."

"Not nearly as much as you might expect, homie."

"It's all right. Saving face, I get it. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm NOT thinking of you, and I DON'T miss you, and I CAN wait to see you until tomorrow."

"Back at you. What time should I be ready?"

"I'll be there at 3. Cool?"

"I'll be ready…have a good night, you."

"You too."

Drew set her phone down and rolled over on her back, looking up at the ceiling and sighing. Rocky sauntered over, having spent most of the evening perched on the edge of the sofa to stay out of Drew's way. Now, he crept cautiously onto her chest, his small paws digging into her abdomen as he settled himself comfortably on her stomach and peered into her face. She smiled and scratched his head as he purred.

"Don't miss him," she mumbled to her cat. "Not at all." She grinned a little at her own silliness as a feeling of anticipation and excitement at seeing him again the following day filled her. And it was…nice to feel that way about someone again.

***

The next day, Drew stood in front of her closet, naked except for her underwear, as she tried to find something appropriate to wear. She didn't want to be too dressed up; it was a barbecue after all, and she didn't want to seem high-maintenance. On the other hand, she didn't know how his family would respond to her penchant for vegan leather, leopard print and lace, so she didn't want to be too funky, either.

She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was already two-thirty, and Heath seemed to be extremely punctual with a tendency to be early, so she knew she'd better hustle. Her hair and makeup were in place, but she'd already spent thirty minutes standing in front of her collection of clothes. Finally, she decided on cream colored linen shorts, a pale pink tank top with a ruffle down the front, and a form fitting hip length navy blue blazer. She added a pair of flat, camel-colored sandals with gold hardware and accessorized herself with a little gold jewelry. She checked herself out and was satisfied enough with what she'd chosen for the first genuinely warm day of the season.

A knock at the door signaled that it was time to go, so she hurried out of her bedroom and grabbed her bag. She peeked through the peephole and smiled, before quickly undoing the locks on the door and pulling it open. She grinned widely at Heath, surprising even herself with the surge of happiness she felt at the sight of him. She noticed he'd gotten his hair cut, and she liked it. She told him so.

"Thanks," he replied. He reached out for her and pulled her against him. She loved the fact that he was so affectionate toward her; it made her feel extremely secure and content. "You look nice."

"Thanks," she echoed, somewhat self-consciously. She eyed his dress of jeans, fresh white sneakers and a casual gray T-shirt. "This isn't too much, right?"