A Rehearsal for Love Read online

  Her face scrunched with a look of disgust as she said, “Who, Todd? Of course. Why would you ask that?”

  I shrugged, pushing her hair behind her ear as I answered, “I don’t like the way he was looking at you, Malia. Wanting to go out for drinks and shit. What’s up with that?”

  Instead of taking me serious, she only laughed in my face. “Someone sounds jealous.”

  “Nah, there’s nothing about that clown that could make me jealous.”

  Subpar dancer, limited charming features, no muscles; definitely not jealous.

  “But now he’s a clown. Hmm… sure sounds like jealousy,” she teased, making me question if her claims were true. I mean, just seeing her give him a hug had me ready to beat his ass.

  “Alright, fine. Maybe I am a little jealous that someone other than me gets to dance with your fine ass onstage.” Most of the steps were pretty harmless, but there were a few that made me cringe knowing how heated Malia could get in the act of dance.

  Or maybe that only happens when she dances with me...

  She jabbed a finger at my chest with a silly smile as she suggested, “Well maybe it’s time for you to come out of retirement.”

  Now I was the one laughing. “I’m not that damn jealous.”

  And she jabbed me again before I added, “But seriously, Malia. Be careful with him. He looks like trouble.” I couldn’t put my finger on anything in particular about him, but the way he was snooping around Malia made me mad suspicious.

  Of course, Malia didn’t seem fazed at all as she replied with a still-excited smile, “Blaise, you have nothing to be worried about. Now… do you wanna take me for a celebratory drink or do I have to go accept Todd’s?”

  I knew she was only teasing, but I still told her, “Pretty, don’t play with me. Go get dressed. I’m gonna go catch up with Amerie for a minute, then I’ll meet you back here.”

  &

  “So… you’re tellin’ me you flew all this way, pulled all these strings, and blew my phone the hell up just to see your protégé perform? Or are you finally ready to tell me the truth?”

  The twinkle in Amerie’s eyes let me know there was no talking myself out of her suspicion. So instead, I just kept it real when I answered, “Malia and I are… seeing each other.”

  Her eyebrow piqued as she cocked her head to the side with a smirk. “How much of each other, exactly?”

  I ran a hand along the back of my neck, knowing the answer to that was a little more complicated. “She’s uh… she’s living with me. Temporarily.” Malia and I still hadn’t talked about her plans post-tour. But in the back of my head, I hoped she planned to stay permanently.

  Amerie looked shocked, tossing her head back with a little laugh. “Damn, Blaise! That’s… wow. Never thought I’d see the day where you actually take something other than dance this seriously.”

  I brushed her off. “Amerie, you’re actin’ like I wasn’t just in a pretty lengthy relationship with Charlotte.”

  She only rolled her eyes as she added, “Which I never understood. But anyways, Malia is a good look for you, B. You seem… happy.”

  There was no denying that one. I mean, I was happy about a lot of stuff; mainly the studio doing well and Malia - the student - now thriving in her career as a professional dancer. But Malia the woman was certainly the brightest spot on the list, so I had no problem agreeing with her. “I am happy. And you could be too if…”

  She cut me off before I could even say his name. “Nope. Nope. Nope. I’ll save you from telling a lie. Did you know he had the nerve to send a Hello through Malia of all people? Like… how dare he prey on the innocent like that?”

  I sighed, shaking my head as I reasoned, “Amerie, he just wants to talk to you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, rocking back and forth on her heels for a moment before deciding, “Well I’m not interested, Blaise. You know what he did to me. You know how he is. Which by the way, I should still hate your ass for siding with him in the first place.”

  I knew it probably looked bad to side with Knox after the way he treated Amerie, but I had a reasonable explanation. “Amerie, you’re like a sister to me. But Knox is like a brother. And brothers always stick together.”

  Instead of getting mad, she fired back, “And so do sisters. So you better be good to my little sister-in-dance Malia.”

  Before I could respond, I heard Malia’s voice from behind me. “Yeah, Blaise. You better be good to me.”

  I turned around, licking my lips at how good she looked in her regular clothes, as Amerie chimed in, “Malia, you killed it tonight. The crowd absolutely loved you.”

  I smiled proudly at the compliment as if she was talking to me, while Malia offered her a simple, “Thank you, Amerie.”

  “Now you two be good tonight. I can’t have my top dancer on wobbly legs next show,” Amerie said with a wink before she strolled away. And while I was ready to laugh, Malia looked mortified though I couldn’t figure out why.

  “Malia, relax. Amerie’s cool. You know that.”

  “Yeah, she’s cool with you cause you’re her friend. But she’s technically my boss.”

  I hadn’t even thought about it like that, but I still found it irrelevant as I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a reassuring kiss on the top of her head.

  “Pretty, I promise you it’s all good. Now let’s get going so I can give you some wobbly legs.”

  Malia only laughed as she replied, “I’m pretty sure Amerie said she doesn’t want me on wobbly legs, Blaise.”

  “And I can almost guarantee she’ll understand. Now come on. Watching you dance tonight has me ready to show you a few things,” I told her, as I leaned down to nip at her ear while we strolled down the hallway.

  She flinched away, giggling as she teased, “Oh really? What kind of things? New choreography perhaps?”

  I nodded with a smirk. “Something like that. Exclusive shit though. Which means it can’t leave the bedroom.”

  “Hmm… sounds interesting enough,” she replied with a smirk of her own.

  Usually it was her biting her lip, but this time it was me as I thought about all the ways I planned on taking advantage of the penthouse suite I had booked for the night. I knew Malia would be taking off for the next city and I’d be heading back home first thing in the morning.

  But tonight…

  Tonight my pretty little dancer was gettin’ noodles for legs.

  Malia

  “Malia! Malia, eight minutes ‘til show time!”

  “I… I’ll be ready,” I replied through the bathroom door before I rinsed my mouth out in the sink.

  I had been sick all day, and all night for that matter. And while I initially chalked it up to nerves of tonight being the final show of the tour, something about these nerves felt different. I mean, it was my fourth performance, so I was incredibly comfortable with the routine. But I suppose being on a new stage, in front of a new crowd, was still a little intimidating.

  That makes sense, right?

  “Of course it does,” I answered myself aloud as I wiped my mouth with a paper towel before opening the door to a panicky Amerie.

  She released a heavy breath of relief as she said, “Oh my God. I thought you’d never come out! I was about ready to slip into a costume myself.”

  I laughed the little that I could as I told her, “I’m sorry, Amerie. I’ve just been feeling a little… under the weather.”

  She nodded, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and guiding me towards the door. “Yeah, I can see it in your face. Are you sure you’re okay to dance? Can’t have you throwing up on the crowd.”

  Even though I wasn’t quite sure myself, the last thing I wanted was for her to be worried. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Just need some… water,” I pushed out before running back into the bathroom to get rid of a new load.

  Amerie was at my side, holding my hair with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. Her voice was a mix of sympathy and disappo
intment as she said, “Oh, Malia. Don’t tell me you have a surprise.”

  I turned away from the toilet just enough to see her face as I asked, “A surprise?”

  “Yeah, a surprise. I mean, you aren’t coughing or sneezing. And you probably haven’t even eaten all day, which means you’re throwing up for one reason and one reason only.”

  I still wasn’t catching her drift, so she sighed before adding, “You’re pregnant.”

  I felt more alert than I had been all day as I popped up from the floor in a frenzy. “Pregnant? There’s no way! No way. I… I’m on the pill.” I couldn’t believe I was disclosing this information to my damn boss, but I had to defend myself. I was an adult, I was responsible, and...

  “The pill only works if you’re perfectly consistent. Have you been perfectly consistent?”

  “Of course I…”

  Oh shit!

  I was crushed as I thought about the only day I had gotten off track. The day my mother kicked me out with absolutely nothing, including my birth control pills. It was only one day, but of course that was all it took considering Blaise and I had never used condoms.

  “Malia, just relax for a minute. We don’t know anything for sure, so there’s no reason to panic yet. Let’s just… make it through this show, then we can run to the drug store and get you a pregnancy test. Okay?”

  I nodded though I wasn’t exactly sure about the whole “making it through this show” thing. I mean, how could I remember choreography with flashes of a baby bump, and breastfeeding in my head?

  And did I even want a child right now?

  Everything in my life was just beginning to fall into place. I had a career that I loved, a comfortable place to stay, a man who adored me. For anyone else, a baby probably fit perfectly in that picture. But for me, it was bad timing on so many levels. The career that I loved required a body that could be pushed to the limit and fit into costumes night after night. The place that I was staying at was only supposed to be a temporary solution. And the man that adored me… I wasn’t even sure if he wanted kids, let alone if he planned on keeping me around for the long haul.

  I could already imagine my mother laughing her ass off, calling me stupid and irresponsible for getting in this situation all over again. Not that I planned on telling her anything; she didn’t deserve to know. But just the thought of her opinion had me…

  “Malia! We have to go! Come on!”

  I tried my best to pull it together as I followed Amerie out of the dressing room through the backstage area and got in position to hit the stage next to Todd.

  “Malia, you good?” he asked, just as the crowd roared with excitement from the lights turning off in the arena.

  I peeked up at him, knowing my face probably told the story my lips refused to tell even through the shadows. And it was obvious he had picked up on it, his head tilting with concern as if he was asking what’s wrong.

  But I couldn’t say anything.

  If I opened my mouth, I’d be forced to face the truth. If I opened my mouth, it would come with emotions I wasn’t ready to express. If I opened my mouth, I would probably throw up again.

  So instead, I forced a smile and was thankfully saved by the music starting.

  &

  “Welcome home, superstar.”

  I tried to match Blaise’s enthusiasm as he pulled me into an embrace, though I couldn’t help but flinch as our abdomens pressed together. While his was cut, lean, carved to perfection, mine would soon be bulging for reasons that I couldn’t tell him just yet.

  After the show, Amerie had practically dragged me to the drug store, only to confirm her suspicions the second we got back to the hotel.

  And I cried hard. Chubby, salty tears streaming down my face until my eyes swelled; part of the reason I was wearing sunglasses now even though it was a whole day later and cloudier than not outside.

  Blaise hadn’t questioned it since he probably did the same thing to prevent being recognized and hassled in the airports by fans. But I still felt guilty as hell as I bit my lip to prevent myself from blurting out the life-changing information that was weighing heavy on my tongue.

  I had to tell him.

  I knew I had to tell him.

  I just didn’t know how, didn’t know when, didn’t know where it would be most appropriate. I mean, what kind of protocol did women usually follow with stuff like this?

  With my ex, it had been different. To be quite honest, even though we were considered “young and dumb”, we knew exactly what we were doing, understood the possibility, and had already established ourselves as serious enough to tell each other anything. The only problem was, while I was sharing news of my pregnancy, something that I thought he’d be excited about, he was sharing news that crushed me to the core; that he had been cheating on me for God knows how long.

  By the time I called my mom, I had already come to the conclusion that I would drop out, get a job, and raise the child alone. But somehow I let her manipulate me, talk me into having an abortion so I wouldn’t be bringing another fatherless child into the world. The more she spoke, the more logical it felt. But thinking back on it, I wondered how much purpose that baby would’ve given me at the time. Maybe that child would’ve been the force to push me to greater heights, to catapult me towards my dreams so that I could’ve provided a better life for him or her than the one I had myself.

  But now…

  Now it felt like having a baby would only be doing the exact opposite.

  “Malia, are you alright?”

  Damnit.

  I peeked over to Blaise through my shades, forcing a smile as I told him, “Yeah. I’m just… happy to be back.”

  He quickly brushed me off, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he guided me to where his car was parked outside of the airport. “I don’t believe that for a second, pretty. I’m sure your phone has already been blowing up with audition invitations. You know Knox is holding one in the studio this weekend.”

  Auditions; number two on my list of immediate concerns, number one being Blaise’s reaction whenever I worked up the nerve to tell him about the pregnancy.

  But he was right.

  I had been receiving texts and emails from choreographers all over the country, including the other lead choreographer for the audition he had mentioned. But I hadn’t actually replied to any of them. I mean, how could I audition for shows with a baby growing inside of me? Was that type of vigorous movement even safe?

  And was I really planning on keeping it? Did I want to put my career on hold at the same moment it was finally taking off?

  Of course, I dreamed of being a mother; having a real family to call my own. But I also dreamed of being a professional dancer, touring the world and taking the stage night after night. Somehow my two dreams had collided and turned themselves into a nightmare. And while I honestly shouldn’t have even been surprised considering how things usually went in my life, a fresh tear still managed to slip out from under my shades before I could catch it.

  Blaise peeked over to me once, then a second time once he realized what had happened.

  His face was tight with concern as he asked, “Malia, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted out just loud enough for him to hear me.

  And I knew he did, his body tensing up and his eyebrow raising as he asked, “You’re what?”

  A new wave of tears rushed out as I forced myself to repeat, “I’m… pregnant, Blaise.”

  He stared at me for what felt like forever, and I could only stand there and cry like some foolish ass little girl.

  But instead of hitting me with the bomb of disapproval that I was bracing myself for, he pulled me into an embrace, whispering, “Shhh… it’s okay, Malia. We’re gonna be okay, pretty.”

  The word “we’re” was like music to my ears, giving me an ounce of hope that I wouldn’t have to deal with the situation alone. He easily could’ve clammed up, pulled back, began to question if I w
as worth the trouble, question if the baby was actually his like any other man probably would’ve done.

  But he wasn’t any other man.

  So instead of doing all of the terrible things I imagined, he was rocking away my tears as people passed us, dragging their suitcases against the pavement.

  “Pretty, let’s get home and then we can chat, alright?”

  I only nodded in response, a little sad when he let me go so that we could get in the car. Thankfully his presence wasn’t gone too long as he held my hand the whole drive back to his apartment. And just that simple act was enough to make me feel like everything really could be okay.

  Blaise

  I was trying my hardest to do everything right.

  Be supportive, be sympathetic, don’t jump to any conclusions or place any blame.

  But every second I spent just holding Malia in bed, that task became harder and harder.

  It didn’t make any sense. Well… it did make sense. I knew how this shit worked. But I didn’t understand how Malia was on birth control, and we had somehow still managed to run into this situation.

  Was it a trap?

  Had she done it on purpose?

  Was she one of those girls that thought she could keep a man if she just got pregnant by him?

  Malia was supposedly a fan of mine long before she was my client plus more, so the angle wasn’t that…

  Cut that shit out, B.

  This whole situation clearly had me buggin’. And as much as I just wanted to be the comforting… boyfriend, I needed answers.

  So I held her close, continuing to play my role as I asked, “Malia, what happened?”

  She tensed up a little, adjusting in my hold before finally replying, “What do you mean, what happened?”

  I sighed, knowing I had to choose my words carefully so that I wouldn’t come off as an asshole. “How did this happen? I mean, you’ve been on birth control, right?”

  She nodded. “Yes. But…”

  “But what?”

  She let out a sigh of her own, sitting up completely so that she could look at me when she responded, “When my mom kicked me out, I didn’t have it. So I... missed a few days and…”