You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This (7 page)

They didn’t leave the studio until nine that night. During the entire time, they focused only on dancing, to Erin’s mingled relief and disappointment. Touching Stefan, moving so easily with him, aroused her more than foreplay would have done. At the studio, she didn’t quite dare to make a move on him. He didn’t invite her back to his place, so they parted ways with an agreement to meet again the next afternoon and Erin went home to take care of herself.

Sunday, and again Monday after work, they met at the studio to practice. Each time, Stefan left her with a kiss and a murmured, “I love you.” Nothing more. If they hadn’t talked on Saturday, Erin would have wondered whether he remained angry with her.

Tuesday morning, she woke with the sudden realization that Stefan hadn’t given her any invitation or made any moves because he was waiting for a signal from her that she was ready for a move to be made. They had, after all, agreed that he would give her time. If she’d tried to seduce him in the studio or had asked to go to his place, he would have agreed.

She almost picked up the phone to call him and tell him she’d figured out his plan, then decided eight o’clock in the morning wouldn’t be the best time for that conversation. I’ll talk to him at class tonight.

Her work day dragged. Very few customers entered the store, and those who did mostly just browsed. Finally five o’clock rolled around, and Erin headed directly for the studio, stopping along the way to pick up something to eat. She’d brought the soft-soled shoes she usually wore for class with her that morning, so had no reason to go home. Since Stefan almost always arrived at the studio before her, she hoped that going earlier than usual would give her more time to talk to him.

When she drove into the parking lot, his car sat in its usual space beside the door. She parked next to it and hurried up to their room.

Stefan stood at the window, looking out at the pond. He didn’t turn when she entered the room. “Stefan?” she said softly.

“Hi.”

That single word held so much pain her heart ached for him. She set her things down by the laptop and walked over to touch his arm. Without a word, he turned to her, wrapped his arms around her, and sobbed into her shoulder.

What happened?
She didn’t ask the question aloud. Whatever had upset him this much, he needed time to settle himself before he talked. Not knowing what else to do, she gently rubbed his back and murmured soothing noises at him.

After only a moment, he quieted and held her more tightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She ran her hand through his hair. “What’s going on?”

“Got some bad news on the way over.” He stepped back from her and wiped his eyes with his hand. “A girl I know. Louisa. She and Emma became friends during one of Em’s treatment courses. Louisa had leukemia, and she and Emma bonded because they both loved dance. After we lost Em, Louisa helped me organize the first charity event to honor Emma’s memory.”

Erin’s heart sank. Without even asking, she knew what had happened, and seeing how much the news had hurt Stefan, she wanted to cry too. Instead she said, “Was she working on this year’s event?”

Stefan nodded. “Well, sort of. She’d taken a bad turn and had been in the hospital for a couple months. They thought she might be improving. I met with her a couple times a week every week.” His voice caught. “She said—she said I was the only person who visited who didn’t treat her like she was sick.”

“When did you see her last?”

“Friday night.” He sniffed. “I would have gone tonight after class, probably. Usually I go on Mondays. Last night you and I practiced, and by the time we finished, visiting hours had ended.”

A pang of guilt struck Erin, even though she hadn’t known he’d had plans. He hadn’t said anything. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” He took her hand. “You know, you have a very expressive face? Don’t feel bad about me staying here to practice with you. I wanted to. I’d told Louisa I have a new partner this year, and she wanted me to video our numbers to show her. So we had to make it good.”

She smiled. “That would have been nice for her to see. I wish I’d been able to meet her.”

“So do I.” He turned back to the window. “She passed away this morning. I called her last night to let her know I wouldn’t be there, so I didn’t really bail on her. I feel like I did, though. Like I let her down by not sticking to our usual plan.”

“Do you want to go home?” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I can probably handle class myself tonight. Or maybe Brian or Doug can come over to help.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be okay. Thanks. After I finished talking to Louisa’s mom, I considered staying home tonight. I think Louisa would want me here, not sitting there crying over her. I’m going to miss her, because we’d become good friends.” Tears trickled down his cheeks, and he brushed them away. “I want to be here tonight. Maybe after class, you and I can practice for this weekend. The competition this year won’t only be in honor of Emma, it’ll be in honor of Louisa too, and I want everything to be amazing.”

“If you’re sure you want to be here, I’m glad.” She hugged him. “If you need a break, let me know. I’m here for you.”

“I’m glad you are.”

She didn’t feel like she’d done enough for him, but she didn’t know what else to do. Offer her sympathy and her shoulder, and be his assistant and dance partner. His lover, she added. I can be that for him too.

They went over the music for class, just as they always did. Two couples arrived earlier than usual for class, one of them the couple who had asked about the charity competition. “We heard the event this weekend is canceled,” the wife said. “Something about one of the organizers?”

“It isn’t canceled,” Stefan replied firmly. “Who did you hear that from?”

“The woman who signed us up called us a little while ago,” the husband replied. “She said that—Are you all right?”

Erin put her hand on Stefan’s arm. He put his own hand over it. “I’m fine,” he said. “I lost someone close to me this morning. She helped organize that competition, which I’m sure is why you received that call. However, everything’s proceeding as planned. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.” He pulled away from Erin and walked out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” the other woman said. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“He was already upset,” Erin replied. “I think there’s just a misunderstanding about how they’re going to proceed with the event now. I wouldn’t worry.”

She did worry fifteen minutes later, when all the students had arrived and Stefan hadn’t returned.

She muddled through class without him, choosing one of the male regulars to help her demonstrate steps and making corrections to the students’ dancing as best she could. As part of preparing to instruct, she’d learned to lead as well as follow, so she was able to teach the class without Stefan. She just didn’t like having to, especially since he’d insisted he would stay.

At the end of class, she brushed off students’ attempts at chatting and questions and hurried down to the parking lot. Stefan’s car was gone.

“Erin?” The man who’d helped her in class came outside. “Do you need help packing up upstairs? Stefan doesn’t usually leave the laptop here, does he?”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll take care of it, thanks. Have fun with the social dancing. You are staying, right?”

“Right.” He studied her. “And you aren’t.”

“I’m going to take Stefan’s stuff to his place.” She went past him back into the studio. “Thanks.”

He smiled. “Have a good night.”

Back upstairs, Erin packed up everything she knew Stefan usually took home with him, then tried calling him. His cell went straight to voice mail. She took everything down to her car then dialed his number again, with the same result.

“If you’re home crying, you’re going to have company,” she said out loud as she got into her car. “And if you aren’t, Gorilla and I’ll wait up for you.” Of course she wouldn’t be able to enter the house if Stefan wasn’t there. If she had to, she would wait in her car in front of his house until he returned.

His car sat in his driveway, and a single lamp illuminated the front window of his house. Carrying the laptop, Erin went to the back door and knocked. The inside door swung open abruptly, banging the wall behind it. Stefan stood there, puffy-eyed. After staring at her for a second, he opened the screen door. “I’m sorry I took off on you.”

“It’s okay.” She pushed past him and set the laptop on the island. “I managed. I told you I would. Knowing that I had to might have been nice, though. For a few minutes there I didn’t know whether to start without you or not.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He sat on one of the stools, hands over his face. “I called the other organizers. They think we should cancel the event. Think going on with it would be disrespectful to Louisa’s family. Not that they’ve talked to her family. They’re just assuming.” He cleared his throat. “The competition isn’t even about Louisa! It’s about Emma. Louisa helped organize it, yes, but it isn’t in her honor.”

“Sure it is.” She sat beside him and rested her hand on his leg. “Louisa and Emma were friends, and they both loved to dance. You told me that earlier. You started the competition to raise money for cancer research in Emma’s honor. Emma isn’t the only person who’s ever had cancer, so in a way the event is in honor of everyone who’s ever had it. Including Louisa.”

He glared at her. “So you’re on their side?”

“No,” she said firmly. “I think the event should happen as scheduled. Because of Louisa. Because now cancer took someone else, which is all the more reason to raise money to find a cure. You said the people who want to cancel the event haven’t talked to Louisa’s family yet. Have you?”

“Not since they called to break the news.” His voice broke on a sob, and he swallowed hard. Erin took his hand, hoping to give him some comfort, and his mouth quirked into something that didn’t quite count as a smile. “I should call. Find out what the plans are as far as a memorial service, and also ask them about the competition. Shouldn’t I?”

“I will if you don’t want to,” she offered. “I think someone should. You said she helped organize this thing every year. That means her family knows about it. Shouldn’t they be the ones to say whether losing her should mean canceling?”

“Yeah. I’ll call.” He took his cell from his pocket and stared at the display. “You called. Twice.”

“After class. I wanted to find out whether you’d come home and if you were all right.” She tapped the display. “You didn’t answer.”

“I had it on vibrate.” He flipped open the phone and dialed a number. “I’m going to the bedroom. I think this would be better in private.”

“Sure.” She slid off her stool. “I’ll find myself something to drink, and have you walked Gorilla lately?”

“He’s hiding. Call him, if you don’t mind taking him out.” Stefan paused. “Hello, Mrs. Golding? It’s Stefan Webber.” He walked down the hall.

As soon as he closed the bedroom door, Gorilla trotted out of the spare room and walked up to Erin to sniff her foot. She laughed. “I’m sure my shoe smells very interesting. Want a walk?”

The dog looked up, perking his ears. Grinning, Erin found his leash, hooked it to his collar, and took him outside.

They walked up and down the street a few times, since she didn’t know the neighborhood well enough to take him anywhere else. Each time they passed Stefan’s house again, she looked to see whether he’d shut off the bedroom light. Each time, the light still shone from the bedroom window, which she assumed meant Stefan hadn’t yet finished his phone call. She didn’t want to interrupt his call, and Gorilla seemed perfectly content to keep walking, so they did. 

On their sixth trip past the house, Stefan opened the front door and waved. “What the heck are you doing?”

Against Gorilla’s will, Erin dragged the dog up the walk. “Giving you some privacy. Can we come back inside now?”

“Bring him in the back door, please.” Stefan nodded toward the side of the house. “I don’t want him thinking he’s people or something and has front door privileges.”

“Good point.” Erin bent and scratched behind the dog’s ears. Gorilla looked up at her with a tongue-lolling grin. “I think he already thinks he’s people.”

Stefan smiled. “Quite possibly. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Erin took Gorilla to the other door and brought him inside. He trotted off down the hall to the spare room without waiting for anyone to remove the leash. “He’ll ask for it to be taken off eventually,” Stefan said, leaning against the counter.

“Ask?” Erin raised an eyebrow. “Seems like you think he’s human too.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” He rubbed his forehead. “Sometimes I wish he was. Living in my own home is nice. I’d like it even better if I had a companion I could actually have a conversation with.”

Erin chose not to respond to that comment. “How did your phone call go?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied slowly. “Well, half not sure. The call with Mrs. Golding went great. She said she and the rest of Louisa’s family really like the idea of making the competition in honor of Louisa this year, and that Louisa told her the other day that she wants the event to go on no matter what.” He sniffled, and Erin handed him a piece of paper towel. “Thanks. I, um, I’m not doing too well, I guess.” He wiped his nose and eyes.

“You lost a friend.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know how it feels. Do you want to be alone, or should I stay?”

“Stay for a while, if you don’t mind.” He blotted his eyes with a dry corner of the paper towel. “I know you’ll want to go home, and that’s fine. I just kind of want someone here for a little longer.”

I’ll stay the night if you want.
Erin didn’t allow herself to say the words out loud. If she spent the night, she’d be doing so out of sympathy, and she didn’t believe that to be a good enough reason.

She went to the fridge and took out two cans of diet soda. “Mind if I help myself?” She held out a can to Stefan. “And of course, since it’s yours, you’re welcome to a can.”

He managed a faint smile. “Thanks. I’d rather have water. You can always help yourself when you’re here.”