Page 39 of Ruined
Haley locked eyes with me and almost smiled. But I turned my attention to Mel, giving Haley a deliberate view of my shoulder.
“Which is why I dropped out of art school in the first place,” Mel said. I nodded deeply, pretending like I was invested in the conversation. “Nothing can beat painting more, you know? More sketches. More sculptures. More paintings. A degree wouldn’t make me a better painter. I can read theory books in my spare time.”
My eyes were on Mel, but from my peripherals, I could see Haley watching us.
“And do you read theory books?” I asked.
“Not as much as I should,” Mel moaned. “Say it. You think I’m a flake. Wait, isn’t it—” she checked her phone right at the time Haley raised her hand to say hello.
I dismissed Haley, waving a hand at her, and pulled Mel’s attention away from her friend. Mel’s eyes widened, and she stammered. For a moment, Haley froze in place. Then she made her way to the stage, her movements stiff. Pretending not to watch us. Switching the hoop to the silks.
A few different guests were sitting in the audience. A slow, heartfelt song began.
“Want me to go?” Mel finally managed.
“Stay as long as you want to.”
Though Mel stayed with me, we both watched in awe as Haley danced in and out of the fabrics, her legs and back arching, her movements in sync with the music. Effortless strength. Beauty in motion, high in the air.
I craved nothing more than to bring her to her knees, where her eyes always looked up at me. Waiting for my command. My forceful touch.
Even when I had been a stranger in her audience before, she always made a point to look at me. To lock eyes. The acknowledgment that she was dancing for me. As if I was the only one who mattered.
Now? She didn’t give me a glance.
“I better go,” Mel said. I realized I was clutching my glass, about to break it in my hands. I let it go, setting it down softly on the counter. “Thanks for the drink.”
Once the song ended, I expected Haley to see that Mel wasn’t there. Then she would confront me. Or perhaps play the same move back. Go to Aldrich. Make me jealous too.
Instead, she started another performance.
The tone of the song was urgent and bitter. If I had the patience, I would have listened to the lyrics, looking for clues. Instead, I moved to the chairs in front of the stage. My eyes were trained on Haley.
At the height of the fabrics, she looked at me for the first time since she started dancing, and scowled. Then she dropped into the silk’s embrace, the fabrics twisting around and holding her in mid-air, stopping right before she hit the ground.
The angry way she moved still seemed graceful, even with her nostrils flaring. I was close enough to be able to say a few words to her, and she’d hear my voice.
But I did nothing. I watched. I waited. I was a patient man. The best rewards came to those who understood the game, and the importance of waiting.
The song finished and the audience clapped, but Haley stayed. She removed some of the straps wrapped around her body, leaving only the bikini top and bottoms. Black and plain now, highlighting the best areas, the straps in a heap on the floor.
I realized then that she had worn those straps to entice me. To remind me of ropes and ties.
Now, she no longer wanted that.
Song after song went by until her hair was damp with sweat, and I was the only one left still sitting at her stage.
I stood, hands on the sides of the stage, watching her.
I should have left. I knew that. I could talk it over with her tomorrow. Leave the club now. Teach her that I didn’t care for being ignored. ThatIwas in control. If I wanted to talk to Mel, then I was going to fucking talk to Mel.
But I didn’t leave. I wanted to make it right. I had to.
Fuck it. Ineededto have her.Now. The stupid strategy I had played wasn’t worth waiting to see her. A stupid fucking power move. I should have thought about that before I made an ass of myself.
Haley kept dancing for the entire song. Finally, when she made her way off of the silks, she looked at me.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her voice detached and smooth.
