If Ever(32)

"Spare me. I'm not in the mood." I stare out the window and wish for a second cup of coffee.

"Chin up. We've got a great number for this week, and after our scores, we may finally be gaining the momentum we need."

After a couple hours of plugging through the steps, I admit the number does seem fun in a playful, quirky way. But I can't shake the feeling of how a couple days with Tom has changed my whole outlook. How have I done the show all these weeks without his fun distraction? And now that he's gone, how am I supposed to go back to the status quo?

After a short break, I'm on the floor stretching again. My bruised muscles are still rebelling from yesterday's nasty fall.

Dominic checks his phone, looks up at me, and grins.

"What?" I snap and immediately regret being bitchy.

"Someone just asked for your number.”

My body hums on high alert. He had better not be teasing me. "Who?" I act like we both don't know it's Tom. Dominic aims his phone at me and takes a picture.

"What are you doing?" I cover my face too late.

Dominic laughs and sends off a message. "You'll see."

But I don't. It had to be Tom. I'm sure of it. For the next hour I'm desperate to hear my phone ping, but nothing. I check the ringer, it's on high, but no missed calls or texts. By the time I leave the rehearsal hall at five o'clock, I'm all crabby pants again, not to mention hangry.

Back at my apartment, I realize I should have grabbed something on my way home. I find a half-eaten bag of Cheetos and hope it'll tide me over until I have enough energy to go out. Maybe I'll just order pizza instead.

A couple hours later, I'm about to give up on ever hearing from Tom and grab a shower when my phone rings. I freeze and am hit with an adrenaline rush. I scramble to look at the screen. It's an area code and number I don't recognize. It keeps ringing. My heart pounds double time.

What if it's not him? What if I'm disappointed? What if it's a telemarketer trying to sell me lawn service?

It rings again. Who am I kidding? I snatch it up and blow out my breath and answer as nonchalantly as possible. "Hello?"

"How's your shiner?" a delicious British voice asks.

I laugh and hope it doesn't sound like a high-pitched giggle. "Pretty bad. I don't think it's going to be gone by next week's show."

"Send me a proper picture, would you? I couldn't get a good look at it in the shot Dominic sent."

"Absolutely not!"

His laugh is a low rumble that reminds me of when I danced with him. "Why not?"

"Because it's hideous. You'll have to wait to see it like the rest of the country when they air it on Monday night."

"It was a pretty spectacular crash."

I sit on the couch and play with the fringe of a throw pillow. "I'm sure you'll be replaying it all night once they play the video." We laugh and I wish so badly he were here with me.

"How was your flight home?" I ask, because I have no idea what else to say. I want to ask him everything, and yet it all seems too personal, or stupid, or inappropriate.

"I couldn't sleep. Honestly though, I haven't slept much since I met you."

"Really?" A jolt of happiness reaches down to my toes

"Mm hmm." His voice lowers. "I had a lovely time with you in L.A. I've never not wanted to get back to work until now."

I can't believe he's telling me this. "That's really sweet, but I find it hard to believe."

"It's true. I keep thinking of this bossy blonde girl from Iowa trying to give me vocal direction."

I bury my face in the pillow. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"And then I watched her dance. It was so beautiful, I nearly wept." His voice is deep and kind. I was lost in the experience and it felt good. Better than anything has in a long time. That is until him. Now I don't know what to do with myself. I start pacing. "How is New York?"

"You're changing the subject, love."

I grin at the endearment. "Is the city as exciting as it sounds?"

"I like it. There's always something happening. You'll get to see it soon."

"Every week I think I'll be seeing New York, but then I sneak through by the skin of my teeth." In the bedroom, I sit on the bed.

"When you do get to New York, I want to see you."

My heart skips a beat. I stare at the ugly bruise in the mirror and wonder why me? He must have tons of options out there.

"That is if you're interested," he adds as if I wouldn't jump at the offer.

"Of course I'd love to see you."

"Good. Now I might have to rethink my voting methods to get you out here sooner."

"I don't think I should share that strategy with Dominic."

"Probably not."

"I just realized that I know very little about you, and you've been watching the show all season, so you probably know way more about me."

"I'm a boring bloke," he says, his voice laid back and relaxed. I picture him in faded jeans, a T-shirt, and no shoes, lying on his couch. I want to stretch out next to him.

"I don't believe that for a second. When we get off the phone, I'm going to Google you and search out your deep dark secrets. Unless, of course, you want to tell me some."