Miles pulls away. His breathing is heavy and his eyes are so dark I can barely see the pupils. I lick my sensitive lips, looking at his that glisten from my mouth.
"You kissed me," I whisper, blurting the first thing that comes to my mind. My cheeks flame immediately.
"I did."
Miles pulls away as if he needs the distance to think or control himself.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that," he says, still backing away.
Miles rubs his face roughly and I touch my lips. They feel full, like all the blood rushed to them, wanting some of the sensations he was giving me. My brain is in shock, unable to process what just happened.
"Don't overthink," he tells me, panicking at my stunned silence. He comes back to me and pulls me against his chest. "We don't have to change."
"I don't want to change." A fear wraps around my heart when I think about Miles no longer in my life.
"I won't lose you." The words are whispered in my hair.
"Never."
Miles kisses the top of my head and lets me go, pushing me away from him slightly for good measure.
"I should go," he says. "Just stay away from that guy. Please. Please tell Brooklyn to stay away."
I laugh softly. "You know damn well I can't tell her to do anything."
"Please try," he pleads. I soften at the desperation on his face.
"I'll try." I won't.
Miles pulls the door open and checks the hall before looking back at me.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't think. Let's just forget that happened."
Before I can respond, he's gone. I stare at the closed door with its chipped white paint covering what was once a mustard color. I feel like that door. Slapping a fresh coat of paint over it doesn't change what's underneath.
I wonder how everything got flipped over in just one morning.
S IX
Brooklyn
Jealousy can eat away at your soul. It's a sin I'm far too familiar with. Growing up, it was just another feeling. Like hunger, boredom, or happiness. I felt like I was drowning in it sometimes.
I would watch Miles with his mom and wonder why I couldn't have a mom, too. The kids with parents at the choir concerts or parent conferences had something I didn't. I wished I had parents who cared. Someone who cared enough to put me in dance lessons or buy London her first camera.
Jealousy put up a white picket fence around me, keeping those who had it all out. I hated that black feeling that rested deep inside me.
At some point we realized no one was going to give us the things we wished for. Wishes were called wishes for a reason. They were dreams and wants made of fairy dust. Our wants and aspirations were the things we could give to ourselves. I felt like every smile and achievement was fought for. Two little girls shouldn't have needed to fight so hard.
Thankfully, I was born with a teammate. I have something not many others have, and that's another to fight with me. Someone who has my back no matter what happens and would never give up on me. London is half my strength. She is half my bravery and passion even though she thinks that's all me.
And because I am a resourceful, I find myself in the parking garage a couple of hours before my shift. I'm in the platform heels I plan to wear tonight. There's a reason they are called stripper heels. I just wish I knew that little tip before I took the stage the other night. Lesson learned.
I make sure no one is around as I walk over to the pole I found the other night. It's not in the most glamorous location, next to the dumpster, but it's all I've got right now. As I approach, I notice there's something different.
I run my hand over the fresh, smooth paint. It's no longer chipping away and rough to hold. The smell of spray paint lingers faintly in the damp garage.
Kane must have painted the pole since he was the only one who knew that I used it.
I don't spend too much time evaluating his motives. I use the little time I have to make sure I can pull off my dance tonight. I throw my
"You kissed me," I whisper, blurting the first thing that comes to my mind. My cheeks flame immediately.
"I did."
Miles pulls away as if he needs the distance to think or control himself.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that," he says, still backing away.
Miles rubs his face roughly and I touch my lips. They feel full, like all the blood rushed to them, wanting some of the sensations he was giving me. My brain is in shock, unable to process what just happened.
"Don't overthink," he tells me, panicking at my stunned silence. He comes back to me and pulls me against his chest. "We don't have to change."
"I don't want to change." A fear wraps around my heart when I think about Miles no longer in my life.
"I won't lose you." The words are whispered in my hair.
"Never."
Miles kisses the top of my head and lets me go, pushing me away from him slightly for good measure.
"I should go," he says. "Just stay away from that guy. Please. Please tell Brooklyn to stay away."
I laugh softly. "You know damn well I can't tell her to do anything."
"Please try," he pleads. I soften at the desperation on his face.
"I'll try." I won't.
Miles pulls the door open and checks the hall before looking back at me.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't think. Let's just forget that happened."
Before I can respond, he's gone. I stare at the closed door with its chipped white paint covering what was once a mustard color. I feel like that door. Slapping a fresh coat of paint over it doesn't change what's underneath.
I wonder how everything got flipped over in just one morning.
S IX
Brooklyn
Jealousy can eat away at your soul. It's a sin I'm far too familiar with. Growing up, it was just another feeling. Like hunger, boredom, or happiness. I felt like I was drowning in it sometimes.
I would watch Miles with his mom and wonder why I couldn't have a mom, too. The kids with parents at the choir concerts or parent conferences had something I didn't. I wished I had parents who cared. Someone who cared enough to put me in dance lessons or buy London her first camera.
Jealousy put up a white picket fence around me, keeping those who had it all out. I hated that black feeling that rested deep inside me.
At some point we realized no one was going to give us the things we wished for. Wishes were called wishes for a reason. They were dreams and wants made of fairy dust. Our wants and aspirations were the things we could give to ourselves. I felt like every smile and achievement was fought for. Two little girls shouldn't have needed to fight so hard.
Thankfully, I was born with a teammate. I have something not many others have, and that's another to fight with me. Someone who has my back no matter what happens and would never give up on me. London is half my strength. She is half my bravery and passion even though she thinks that's all me.
And because I am a resourceful, I find myself in the parking garage a couple of hours before my shift. I'm in the platform heels I plan to wear tonight. There's a reason they are called stripper heels. I just wish I knew that little tip before I took the stage the other night. Lesson learned.
I make sure no one is around as I walk over to the pole I found the other night. It's not in the most glamorous location, next to the dumpster, but it's all I've got right now. As I approach, I notice there's something different.
I run my hand over the fresh, smooth paint. It's no longer chipping away and rough to hold. The smell of spray paint lingers faintly in the damp garage.
Kane must have painted the pole since he was the only one who knew that I used it.
I don't spend too much time evaluating his motives. I use the little time I have to make sure I can pull off my dance tonight. I throw my