Someone You Love by Kristen Granata
Charly
June 28th
Dear Mom,
I’m going into town today to sign up for salsa lessons. I keep thinking about how much fun we’d have together. (AKA: How much fun I’d have laughing at your lack of coordination.) I’ll let you know if I see an Antonio Banderas lookalike—which I’m still convinced is the only reason you agreed to learn how to salsa in the first place. For the record, I disagree on your choice of Antonios. I’d prefer an Antonio Sabato Jr. lookalike any day of the week.
I spend the morning by the pool, and when the clouds roll in, Beatrice lets me take her car into town so I can sign up at the dance studio.
A tall brunette woman with long red nails greets me at the counter when I walk in. “Welcome to Soul. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I’d like to sign up for salsa lessons. I looked up the information on your website, and it said you have classes twice a week in the evening.”
She claps, and the gold bangles on her wrists jingle. “Are you a novice, or a seasoned salsa dancer?”
I chew my bottom lip. “I’m a total beginner.”
“Ah. The class you saw posted on our website is for our more seasoned dancers. But we have sign-ups for our beginner class in the fall.”
My shoulders droop. “I won’t be here after August.”
She clicks her tongue. “We do offer a beginner Rumba class.”
My ears perk up. “Oh, that could be fun.”
“It’s very fun. It’s slower and more sensual than salsa. What’s your name, lovely?”
“I’m Charly.”
She extends her hand for me to shake. “I’m Gianna. I own this place. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charly.” She slides a form across the counter, and hands me a pen. “Will you be joining with a partner?”
I shake my head. “No. Is that ... am I supposed to have a partner?”
“No, of course not. Sometimes couples sign up together. But we have plenty of solo dancers.”
Sadness churns in my gut. “I’m doing this for my mother. She recently passed, and we were supposed to do this together.”
“Oh, Charly. I’m so sorry.” Gianna grips my hands. “You’re going to dance beautifully, and your mother will clap for you in the clouds.”
“Thank you.” Tears blur my vision, and I smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a downer.”
She waves a hand. “Please. You don’t ever have to apologize for grieving. My mother died many moons ago, and I still miss her to this day. She used to love to watch me dance. Every time I step onto the floor, I dance for her.”
“That’s beautiful.”
Gianna goes over the form, and I sign at the bottom. “You don’t need to wear heels, but I always recommend it.” She winks. “Heels make you feel sexier.”
I laugh. “You sound like my friend, Beatrice.”
“Beatrice Holden?”
I nod. “I’m staying at Sunnyside Inn. Do you know her?”
“I love that woman. She’s always referring out-of-towners to my studio.”
“She’s wonderful.”
After Gianna puts me down for the beginner class twice a week, I say goodbye and head over to the coffee shop next door to check in with Jenny.
“Hey, girl! Look how tan you are. I’m so jealous.”
I chuckle as I stick my earbuds into place. “I’ve been taking full advantage of that pool.”
“You look so vibrant and happy.”
“I feel happy. I really love it here, Jen.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “And does this happiness have anything to do with a certain tall, hairy roommate?”
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying someone’s company.”
“I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with it. I’m thrilled you’re having a blast.” She pouts. “Even if it’s without me.”
“I miss you too. How’s everything at the diner?”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “Stu is getting better, I guess.”
“Good. See, all you needed to do was have a little patience.”
She waves a dramatic hand. “Have you met me? Patience is not in my list of virtues.”
“I know, I know. I signed up for Rumba lessons today.” My eyes roam the coffee shop. “I started crying when the owner asked me if I’d be bringing a partner. As much fun as I’m having here, I keep going back to the fact that Mom isn’t with me.”
“I know, babe. Just keep reminding yourself that you’re doing this for her. She wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
I take a swig of my iced coffee. “Do you think it’s too soon to have feelings for Bryce?”
Her eyebrows lift. “What kind of feelings? The naughty I want to ride you like a bronco kind, or actual feelings?”
I giggle, glancing around to make sure I’m not being too loud. “The bronco-riding feelings are definitely present. But it’s more than that. I ... I like him. I like being around him, and talking to him.”
Jenny nods. “Well, you’ve been there for a few weeks now, and you’ve spent every day together because you’re living together. I think it’s normal to like someone you’re getting to know.”
“But ...?”
“But I worry about you spending so much time with him. It’s going to make things harder when you leave at the end of your stay.”
I frown, toying with the straw in my cup. “You’re right.”
“I’m not trying to poo-poo this idea.” She props her chin up with her knuckles. “If you two hit it off, it’s not like you live on opposite sides of the world. You could make it work.”
I grin imagining the big mountain man in the big city.
“You’re supposed to be seizing life by the balls, right? Why not live in the moment, and experience everything that Maine has to offer? If you like Bryce, then go with it. You’re not running off to get married, or doing anything crazy. I think it’s good for you to put yourself out there, especially after everything you went through with Greg.”
“You sound like my mother.”
She grins. “You know she’d tell you to enjoy what you have while you have it.”
She would.
Jenny glances over her shoulder. “Okay, boo. Gotta go. Rob is taking me out to dinner tonight, and I promised him I wouldn’t be late, which means I have to start showering now.”
“You’re the only one I know who needs three hours to get ready for dinner. I can’t wait to see how long it takes on your wedding day.”
“Can’t start the wedding without the bride, so everyone will have no choice but to wait.”
I tilt my head back as I laugh. “Love you. Have fun.”
“You too.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Have lots and lots of fun.”
Yeah, I know exactly what kind of fun she’s referring to.
Edward bounds toward me when I get back to Bryce’s house.
“Hi, handsome boy.” I glance around, noting the light on in the hallway. “Has Bryce been keeping you company while I’ve been gone?”
Edward drags his tongue along my cheek.
“Come on. That bathtub is calling my name.”
I walk into the hallway, and the whir of the fan sounds from behind the bathroom door. Excitement courses through me when I think about telling Bryce about my day. As I continue to my room, his muffled voice halts my feet.
Is he calling me?
Edward’s ears perk up. I turn around, and press my ear to the door. The sound comes again, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the fan.
“Bryce? Are you okay?”
He doesn’t respond.
Maybe he’s singing.
Or maybe he fell, and needs help.
I crack open the door, and duck my head as I step inside. The steam makes it hard to see, but I can make out his tall stature behind the glass shower doors. He doesn’t appear to be hurt, and he isn’t on the floor. I creep backward, about to slip out unnoticed.
And then a long, guttural moan echoes off the tile.
Oh, my God. Is he ...?
Another grunt answers my question.
I should leave. I shouldn’t be invading his private moment. But my feet are cemented to the ground, and my eyes are squinting through the steam. One of his hands presses against the wall, and his other hand is wrapped around himself, while his hips thrust in a rhythmic motion. His raspy satisfaction is the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard. I’ve never found a man getting himself off to be attractive—quite the opposite, actually—but as I stand here, goosebumps fly across my skin, and a deep ache builds between my thighs.
I wish I knew what he was imagining.
Wish I had a clear view.
Wish I could watch the water run down his olive skin.
Wish I could see the euphoric expression on his face when he comes.
Wish I could see the size of his—
Bad, Charly! This is bad! Get out!
I force myself to move toward the door, careful not to knock into anything and alert Bryce of my presence. Once I’m safe, I bolt down the hallway, and lock myself and Edward behind my bedroom door. My pulse pumps liquid heat through my veins, and I slap my palm against my forehead.
Edward whines, and drops down at my feet.
“Don’t judge me, dog.”