Page 22 of Off Balance

Dom gestures to the phone and then makes a swiping motion under his chin to signal for Dwayne to shut up. Dwayne gives an exaggerated cringe and snickers before following Dom's retreating form. Goddamn, he has a biteable ass. Like the rest of him, it's thick with muscle and just enough cushion to make me want to use it as a pillow.

Dwayne grabs my arm when I zone out and start following Dom across the large studio apartment, entranced by all the rich, brown skin and curvy muscles on display.

He gives me a perplexed look, and I cover by pretending to examine the space, making my way out of the entryway and into the apartment. Like the hallway, the walls are bare bones, but it’s a nice space. One entire wall is exposed brick featuring large, wide windows with deep sills that I can imagine filling with pillows and curling up to read or watch as people go about their day in the city block below. The rest of the space is open and feelsempty without much furniture. There's a huge thick mattress on a box platform with no frame or headboard pushed against the brick wall between two windows. A large crate is tipped over on one side of the bed, holding a lamp and a stack of books. I'm desperate to get closer, to see what Dom reads in his spare time, but I stick close to the entryway. There's an open galley kitchen with brand new sterling silver appliances and industrial lighting above a huge polished concrete island.

"This is amazing," I say honestly.

"Yeah?" Dwayne grins proudly. "Dom's been helping me finish the place while he's staying here. It was just as bare as the hallway a few weeks ago."

"It could use a rug and some furniture. But other than that, I really like the unfinished, industrial look."

I'm talking out of my ass. I honestly don't know anything about interior design, but I do think it looks cool.

"I don't give a shit, Brian! I'm not interested in speaking to the press!" Dom's muffled voice comes from the only door in the apartment, which I assume is the bathroom. I guess it wasn't us he was pissed at when he answered the door. Although I'm sure Dwayne's incessant knocking didn't help. "Let them talk!" he shouts, and then I hear the clatter of what must be his phone on a hard surface. Then there's the sound of running water.

"We can't decide what color to paint this wall," Dwayne says, studiously ignoring everything we just overheard.

I look at the expanse of drywall that's directly opposite the huge windows, at the light pouring in. I should get Dom a houseplant.

"Black," I say, absentmindedly. "There's enough space and light in here that I think you could pull it off."

"I'd never have thought of that," Dwayne says, staring at the space as though imagining it. He doesn't look sold, but it's not my apartment, so I don't actually care.

Dom strolls out of the bathroom, rubbing a small hand towel over his face. Water drips down his exposed chest, making me think of how his dark skin glistens when he's worked up a sweat.

"Sorry, I'm running behind. I swear to fuck if the paps show up to this fight, I’m gonna wring his twerpy little—" Dom stops short, apparently noticing me for the first time. He stutters for a moment, which is stupidly adorable.

"Good morning,Uncle," I say sweetly. Dom makes a face, and Dwayne laughs.

"Watch out for this one today," Dwayne says. "He's in a mood."

"Noted," Dom says, narrowing his eyes at me. I bat mine in return before turning my attention away from the sinfully jacked body currently sauntering across the apartment.

"So, what was is that you wanted to talk to us about? Considering the last time you called a meeting, I got dragged into teaching ballet to a bodybuilder, I'm super curious how else you could make my life interesting."

"Ah, yes! Dom! Let's show Cameron our surprise."

"Our?" My gaze flits back and forth between them. "As in, you conspired to create whatever fresh hell I'm going to be subjected to?"

"Damn right," Dom says, pulling a black tank top on over his head. He pumps his eyebrows and then winks.What the hell are they up to?

We walk out of Dom's apartment to another door on the opposite end of the hall. Dwayne holds out a key on a red lanyard with the Connor Bros Boxing Gym logo. I scrunch my forehead and look at it warily, but take it from him and push it into the lock.

"Now, just for the record," Dwayne says before I can open the door. "There's no pressure here. You can do anything or nothing at all with this, okay?"

More confused than ever, I push the door open. It's a wide-open space that's brightly lit by the same kind of windows in Dom's apartment. All the walls are exposed brick except for the wall directly opposite the windows, which has been covered with a massive floor to ceiling mirror.

A proper barre has been installed along the entire length of the mirrored wall. There are benches on either side of the room, and a shelf with a record player and a tablet set up for music. I look up and notice the speakers in every corner of the room and wonder what the acoustics will be like with these high ceilings.There's a door on the far side of the room. I open the door to peek into a bathroom that has been converted to a small locker room. The toilet is in a stall, and the shower walls are frosted for privacy. One wall is covered with shelves that look like open lockers, with another bench in front of them.

Speechless, I step into the middle of the polished wooden floor, ready for the first steps to be danced across its surface. I'm overwhelmed.

"You did this for me?" I whisper, my voice catching in my throat.

"Well, I won't lie and say the space doesn't have the potential to benefit the gym." Before my mind can run away with what he means, he's quick to clarify what he means. "Who knows, maybe we could go into business together someday if this ballet training works? Or you could use the space to teach your own classes. Or you can use it as your personal practice space. Like I said, there's no pressure. No strings. Maybe a shameless bribe to bring you around more often."

There's not much more I'm capable of, other than clenching my eyes shut and sinking into this moment. He's right that this space has a lot of potential, and I can see myself spending time here. No more being observed by judgmental onlookers when I want to play around with my own choreography or just dance for the sake of dancing.

Music swells from the speakers around the room, a familiar tune filling the space. I look up to find Dwayne and Dom sitting back on a bench, waiting for me to do something. I shake my head and grin, but find my next pose and fall into the choreography for the opening number ofGloire Du Matin.

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