46. Violet
46
Violet
M y stomach twisted as I stared at the closet. At the rows and rows of dresses. Choices.
All the clothes Ivette had picked out for me. The ones the guys bought. It was overwhelming. Especially because I didn’t know where Reid was taking me.
I hated this part of myself. The part that Simon had beaten down. Picking out an outfit was never a problem for me before. Just like deciding what to eat. Where to go. But now it seemed the only thing I could decide was that I wanted Maverick, Reid, and Connor.
I wanted them to take care of me. To make my life easy. Make me feel safe. Feel good.
The pieces of my old life that clung to me said it was wrong. I should be strong. Independent. I shouldn’t need them so much.
But as I stared at the clothes, unable to make a decision, I knew I did.
“Wear this one.” Reid’s warmth seeped into my back as he pulled a midnight blue dress from the rows.
It was a wrap style that cinched at the hip with a silver clip. The fabric was silky in my palms as I grasped it from him. I watched as he gathered silver earrings and a diamond pendant that I hoped was fake, to go with the outfit. Next, he bent down and picked out a pair of heels that were sheer blue to match.
The accessories elevated the dress. But its long sleeves were modest, telling me we weren’t going to the club. My outfits for Eros had a subtle sexiness about them.
He left the shoes near the closet and the jewelry on the dresser before approaching me. He brought a single finger under my chin, tilting my head to look at him. “Wear red lipstick and your hair down.”
His blue eyes pierced me in place. It was like I was under a spell. Not a part of me wanted to move away from him. Only my lungs expanded and my heart beat.
When he looked at me like that, I forgot all my problems. Forgot what I was doing. All I wanted was to listen to him. Hear his deep voice tell me what to do.
An exhale echoed through my body as he broke the spell, stepping back. I watched the muscles in his arms flex through his suit jacket as he moved to the door. “That’s it?”
I clutched the dress to my chest, trying to hide my disappointment. And the hard points of my nipples. There was a restlessness under my skin that begged for him to keep touching me.
Life was easier when they touched me. I didn’t have to worry. Didn’t need to think.
“I saw you struggling to pick an outfit. I only came in here to help.” His lip tipped up, but it wasn’t a smile; more a suggestion of one. “To take care of you.”
It reminded me of my first morning here when he’d made breakfast. Picking the food and cooking. Taking action because I couldn’t. Just like how they’d touched me to heal me.
I was more than happy to let them. I couldn’t remember a time where I felt more secure.
* * *
The crowds grew thicker as we headed down the street. I still wasn’t sure where we were going, but apparently everyone else was going there, too.
“Sorry.” A man grunted as he bumped into me, sending my shoulder into another person. I could smell his expensive aftershave. Feel the heat of a body searing mine.
My chest constricted. Panic flooded my blood. I hadn’t been out like this since coming to stay with the guys. I kept to familiar, controlled places. The club. The community center. A restaurant.
I felt exposed out in the open. How could I be sure Simon wasn’t in this crowd? Waiting to take me again. To hurt me. My family.
Just as my anxiety was reaching a crescendo, a warm palm pressed into my back. Reid’s cologne filled my senses. It calmed my racing heart.
I wanted to lean into him. Wrap an arm around his waist and tuck my head to his chest. But I knew I couldn’t. His hand on my low back was all I got.
“I’m sorry.” He bent down to whisper in my ear, surrounding me. Protecting me from the crowd. “We should’ve come earlier or waited until just before show time.”
“Show time?” I glanced up as we entered a theater.
It was beautiful, with red carpets and wood-paneled walls. Chandeliers hung overhead as we made our way to the stairs. The banister was gold plated; worn in some spots from all the hands that had run over it throughout the years.
I noticed some people nearby weren’t as dressed up. I was thankful for the outfit Reid had picked. Theater was one of the places I still believed you should dress for.
He led me all the way to the top, where an usher opened the door to a private box. The chairs were velvet and from here we had the perfect view of the stage. I wasn’t sure what we were seeing, but now that we were alone, I could relax. My chest rose on a steady breath as I took my seat. I ran my fingers over my silky dress as I watched the crowd file in.
The lights flashed, and conversation died. I looked at the curtains with a quiet excitement. How many times had I stood behind a similar one? My heart racing as I waited to perform.
I still remembered the first time. How I’d rose from the piano bench with an overwhelming feeling of happiness. I was so ecstatic my toes tingled. But then I’d seen my mother’s pinched face in the crowd. My excitement turned into a fizzle. I’d spent the drive home listening to all the things I’d done wrong.
But tonight, I wasn’t performing. And I found that I didn’t miss the jumble of nerves. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed it. I was relaxed in my seat until the announcer introduced the performer.
“Alexandra Auclair.” Her name came out on a breath, and I whipped my head to Reid. But he was focused on the stage.
A woman walked across the wood floor towards a grand piano. She had on a beautiful red ball gown. Her hair was swept over one shoulder.
She was just as wonderful as I’d always imagined. I’d never met her, but I’d followed her career for years. We were the same age.
When I was applying to Julliard, because it was the only acceptable school to my mother, she was their big star that year. I read an article about her in the paper. Envy had burned in my veins as I looked at her proud parents standing by her side as she signed a scholarship.
When I’d found a job playing at a piano bar, she’d signed with the New York Orchestra. And six months ago, a week before I’d been trapped in a closet, she’d started her first solo tour. I’d had tickets to go.
My heart jumped to my throat when I realized this was that concert. The one I’d planned to go to with Simon. Reid had no way of knowing. But the coincidence had my blood pressure rising. My eyes searched the crowd, looking for what, I wasn’t sure.
Before my mind could spiral any further, she started to play. The air stuck in my lungs. My heart settled in my chest again. My gaze went to the stage and her perfect posture.
It was instantaneous. The notes hit my ears, and I was lost to the music. To the thing I’d always loved.
My body swayed to the familiar song. I found myself leaning forward. My elbows rested on the wood banister. I was captivated by the melody.
I felt it in my chest. My heart. In my very bones. Song after song played, and I was transported.
I wasn’t thinking about my life. Instead I focused on the piece of music. On the stories I used to make up to go with each one. I honed in on how they made me feel.
When I listened to music I was outside of time and place. I floated on emotion and beauty.
One song hit me hard. The tone was brutal and sad. My hand reached automatically towards Reid, but when our skin touched, he pulled away.
My eyes flicked to his face. His jaw tightened as he focused on the stage. I didn’t know all of his past, but I knew enough. Knew he’d been hurt. In a weird way, what I was doing with them was healing me. I wished I could help him in return.
He clearly had as many issues as me if he wouldn’t let people touch him. It was strange because he touched me freely. Ordered me around. He needed to be in control. Like I needed to be controlled. Because it was my bad choices that had led me here.
Instead of reaching for him, I flipped my hand up. As the song swelled, he placed his palm in mine. I wasn’t sure if it was the music or him. But I felt warmth spreading all through my body. And for a moment, I was happy.