Dance All Night: A DANCE OFF HOLIDAY NOVELLA Page 11

Maybe he should have told her, but again, what was the point? She wouldn’t believe him anyway.

  Besides, after so much vulnerability and openness, he was exhausted. He just didn’t have it in him to bare his soul yet again.

  So, they’d packed up, speaking only when necessary, and hit the road.

  They were almost back when Dimitri called. Nik answered via the car’s Bluetooth.

  “Da,” he said, then continued in Russian. “You’re on speakerphone, and she’s in the car with me.”

  He cut a look at Jess, who kept her eyes down, fiddling with her phone. It was the height of rudeness to talk about someone in another language when they were right there and you knew they couldn’t understand, but at the moment, he was too tired to figure out how else to handle what was surely coming.

  “Mama said you’re bringing your girl home for Christmas.”

  Yup, there it was. Nik sighed. “Nyet. And she’s not my girl.”

  There was a long pause on Mitya’s end. “Oh. Well. Sorry, I guess.”

  “Me too.” He switched lanes as they approached the exit to Jess’s neighborhood. “I’ll be home soon.”

  Alone, he wanted to add, but no point heaping his melancholy on Dimitri. Mitya would’ve done it to him, but he was a drama queen. That just wasn’t Nik’s style.

  He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he followed the navigation to Jess’s West Hollywood apartment, reconsidering. He’d never been in love before. If there were ever a time to give moping a try, this was it.

  He pulled up in front of her apartment complex and swung out of the car, heading for the trunk to get her bags. Just because his feelings were hurt wasn’t a reason to drop his manners altogether, and he felt bad about talking about her in Russian with Dimitri while she was still in the car. In hindsight, he could have said he’d call Mitya back. It hadn’t occurred to him at the moment. Lack of sleep, the long drive, and heartache were messing with him. He just wanted to get home—well, to his brother’s house—and climb into bed.

  Yeah, moping sounded pretty damn good.

  Jess was waiting behind him when he turned with her suitcase. He set it beside her.

  “Have fun with your family,” she said, her tone subdued.

  “Thanks.” What else could he say? Have fun with your…Netflix?

  “What day do you get back?”

  “The twenty-eighth.”

  She nodded. “Well, text me when you get back to LA. But I don’t think we should be in contact while you’re gone.”

  He should’ve expected something like this. Still, it was like a kick to the gut, leaving him winded and…hurt. But what could he do?

  He nodded. “Fine.”

  There. She’d said it. The entire ride back, Jess had been trying to think of how to put up some kind of boundary against Nik after he’d so thoroughly demolished her emotional defenses. “No contact” was the best she’d come up with.

  “You should focus on your family,” she added, as if that would soften the blow. She hated hurting him this way, but she was desperate for some space. The cabin trip had been too much, too fast, too deep. She needed distance to sort out her feelings, and three-thousand miles ought to do the job.

  Besides, she could already feel him withdrawing. And that hurt, too.

  Nik turned to get back in the car, then stopped. He spoke with his back to her.

  “Jess, I need you to understand something. I’m leaving to spend the holidays with my family because that’s what I do, and I’m respecting your choice not to do that. You will be alone over Christmas because that was your choice. You’ve sworn up and down that it’s what you want.” He turned, and his eyes roiled with emotion. His body fairly vibrated with it. But what was it? Frustration? Anger? Something else?

  “So, I’ll give that to you,” he continued, slashing a hand through the air. “Even though I wish to god you’d come with me, or let me stay with you, I’m going. Alone. Because that’s what you want.”

  She swallowed hard. He was right. Nothing he’d just said was a lie. So why did it feel so awful? She tried for bravado. “Don’t get it twisted, Nik. You’ve known this about me from the start.”

  “You’re right.” His lips pressed together and his eyes pinched like he was in pain. His voice was tight with emotion, but strong. “But you know what else I know? You mask your feelings with humor. You answer a question with a question. You say you don’t want to get into something serious because people play games, but you’re the one who’s been playing, ever since we started this, because you’re too scared to take it seriously. So you tell yourself that I must be playing, too, when the reality is I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. So ask yourself, Jess, are you taking life seriously, or are you just playing around?”

  She sucked in a breath, stunned silent. Fuuuuck. He’d told her.

  And she couldn’t deny a single word of it. She was still that lonely girl listening to Nina Simone in her tiny bedroom, dreaming of someday making a deeper connection with someone.

  Suddenly, only one thing mattered, and she had to get it out before the tears backed up in her throat let loose.

  “Will I see you at New Year’s?”

  Shit, she’d just answered a question with a question. Again. But as much as she needed space from him now, she also needed to see this through to the end, to see him one last time.

  Even if their midnight kiss would also be a goodbye.

  His shoulders slumped, and he looked absolutely defeated. She’d done this to him. Made this vital, energetic, happy-go-lucky man look so sad and wounded. How had everything gone so wrong?

  “Maybe,” he finally answered, and it was the confirmation of everything she’d feared from the start.

  He wasn’t coming back.

  He must have accepted the tour. But then, why shouldn’t he?

  He’d made her believe. Gotten her feelings involved. And now he was leaving for good. Just as she’d known he would. There had never been a real chance for them.

  She tried to make her voice light and breezy, to belie how much she was hurting inside. “Well, lemme know if you come back. You know where I’ll be. But like I said, I think it’s best if we don’t contact each other over Christmas. See ya.”

  The second she turned around, the tears spilled over, and she hurried into her building’s lobby, dragging her suitcase. Behind her, the car door opened and slammed.

  She took the elevator up to her empty apartment. She’d only been gone one night, but it was like she hadn’t been there in months. Everything seemed strange.

  And then it hit her. No Christmas decorations.

  She took off her shoes and jacket, left the suitcase by the door, and climbed into bed fully dressed.

  Already, she missed him. Would it have been so hard to invite him up instead of sending him away?

  And then the tears really flowed, because if it had been easy for her, she would have done it. But she hadn’t. So, what did that say about her, that she’d run all the way from Chicago to Los Angeles, looking for connection, only to push away the most amazing man she’d ever met?

  Chapter Nine

  December 24th, Christmas Eve

  * * *

  Nik loved Christmas. And he loved his family. It was wonderful to see his parents, to see Natasha and Dimitri celebrate their first Christmas together, to see Alex and Marina so excited about the upcoming birth of their first child. Christmas in the Kovalenko family meant being surrounded by loving couples, people who had happily settled down because it was worth it when you had the person you loved by your side.

  Nik wanted what they had. He’d never noticed the little signs of connection, of love, between the people around him. The way Alex leaped to refill Marina’s water glass before she could get up. How Mitya hung on Tash’s every word. The way his father came up behind his mother in the kitchen to rest his hands on her shoulders and knead her muscles gently.

  Nik wanted all of that and more.

>   With Jess.

  She didn’t want any of it, though. Didn’t want him. She preferred to stay home, alone, whiling away the holidays watching TV. And when he got back?

  Despite her invitation to text her when he returned to LA, he didn’t have high hopes. After all, she’d also said they should have no contact while he was gone. She was probably trying to find a way to let him down gently.

  His uncle flipped channels, landing for a moment on some version of A Christmas Carol.

  It reminded Nik of Jess, his adorable Scrooge. He glowered at his uncle and hefted himself up from the sofa, seeking refuge in the kitchen.

  “Do you need help with anything, mamochka?” he asked his mother, sticking to English because Natasha stood by her side at the stove. Oksana had been cooking for two days, and tonight they’d have Christmas Eve dinner. Tomorrow, they would drive out to New Jersey to Alex’s house for Christmas Day festivities with all the other cousins.

  “Start setting the table,” his mother told him, pointing at the dishes of food on the counter. “Use the Christmas plates.”

  He knew the drill. In the dining room, he opened the lower shelves of the china cabinet and carefully unwrapped the good plates they used for Christmas.

  When they were kids, this had been Dimitri’s job, but early on it became clear that while Nik was a holy terror most of the time, racing up and down the halls in the small apartment they’d shared with his aunt, uncle, and cousins, he took great care with precious items. Slowly and methodically, he set the table the way his mother liked it done, the way she’d taught him so many years before.

  His parents had belonged to the Eastern Orthodox Church before coming to America, which celebrated Christmas on January 7th. They’d tried to keep to their traditions, but the public school holiday schedule had made it difficult. When Nik started school, he’d been upset that the other kids celebrated Christmas before he did, and eventually his parents had shifted to celebrating on December 25th. Still, on January 6th and 7th, his family celebrated again with the traditions of their home country. It had meant two Christmases, so Nik had loved it. They also left their tree up until after both celebrations. He’d had a friend in school, Luis, who was Puerto Rican and celebrated Three Kings Day on January 6th. Sometimes they stopped by each other’s houses to join in on the additional holiday customs, and it had made Nik feel like it was normal to celebrate on an extra day. Plus, his father’s extended family was Jewish, and they had sometimes celebrated Hanukkah with them.

  All of these experiences had reinforced the idea that while people might come from different places, by settling in the same place and bringing their traditions with them, they could all come together in the spirit of celebration, family, and love. For him, that was the true meaning of the Christmas season. It wasn’t about religion, or spending money, or even about the particular holiday of Christmas itself. It was about connection. The days were getting longer again, bit by bit, and Christmas was about opening yourself up to that light and letting people in.

  Through all three dates with Jess, that’s what he’d tried to show her. It was okay to let people in.

  His phone felt heavy in his back pocket, and his fingers itched to text her. But what would he say?

  Let me in. Please.

  He couldn’t. And anyway, he knew what her answer would be.

  When he returned to the kitchen for the food, his mother stopped him and pressed her hands to his cheeks. “Moy mal’chik,” she crooned, then spoke in English. “You are so sad, Kolya. It breaks my heart that you won’t tell me what happened.”

  No one laid on a guilt trip like his mother. She’d even busted out his childhood nickname. He met Natasha’s eyes over Oksana’s head for a brief second. Tash gave a little headshake, which he took to mean his mother had drilled her for info and she hadn’t told.

  He just shrugged and said, “It didn’t work out.”

  It was what he’d said the other twenty times his mother had questioned him since he’d walked in the front door the previous day. If he could go back, he wouldn’t have mentioned Jess at all.

  “I have to put out the food,” he mumbled, slipping away from his mother’s intense gaze. Hefting a large tray of pierogis, he ducked out of the kitchen.

  What was he supposed to say? He’d tried. He’d gone big with Jess, as big as he could go, and then…he’d gone home.

  Not enough.

  The thought made him pause. He set the platter down in the center of the dining room table, then snagged a pierogi off it and nibbled.

  The comforting taste of peppery potato and dough always brought him back to childhood, and the feeling of being home. Yet it did nothing to dispel the sick feeling that everything he’d done, everything he was, wasn’t enough for Jess. He’d laid it all on the line, given her his heart, and it wasn’t enough.

  He gulped down the rest of the pierogi so his mom didn’t catch him snacking before dinner. Another option floated through his mind. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take the Raise Your Voice role, or find another tour contract.

  What would be worse—staying in Los Angeles and feeling like a third wheel in his brother’s house, or returning to work feeling like an absolute failure?

  Neither option appealed. He’d feel like a failure either way.

  He shook it off, tried to paste a smile he didn’t feel to his face, and returned to his mother’s kitchen.

  Chapter Ten

  December 25th, Christmas Day

  Instead of feeling excited to spend some quality “me time” with herself, Jess woke on Christmas Day with a stomachache that had nothing to do with the cookies she’d eaten the night before—leftover from the decorating party at Dimitri’s house—and everything to do with the fact that Nik had been right. She was alone on Christmas because she had chosen to be. She was alone period because she’d chosen to be. And for the first time, she was questioning why that was.

  For that, she needed caffeine.

  She rolled out of bed, made herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and sat down in the front of the TV to drink.

  This had been her plan, after all. Spend the holidays relaxing and catching up on the shows she’d missed while filming The Dance Off. Her poor, neglected DVR was calling her name.

  But something stopped her from turning on the TV. Christmas, something she’d told herself multiple times was just another day in the year, seemed to have some sway over her. And she couldn’t just sit here watching a historical time travel drama like it was any old day. Even if it didn’t mean much to her, personally, Christmas meant something to other people.

  She finished her coffee, took a shower, then looked for something comfortable to wear. She still didn’t own anything Christmas themed, but—no wait, she did! She still had Lorena’s poinsettia earrings and Naomi’s “Lit As a Christmas Tree” t-shirt, which she’d washed but hadn’t yet returned. She paired the borrowed items with dark wash jeans and ankle boots. The weather had finally gotten the memo that it was winter, and the high was only fifty-three degrees. In Southern California, that was wool coat and Uggs weather. She spritzed her hair with water, then sealed it with a coconut hair oil. And since she was adhering to a theme, she applied Holly Jolly Berry to her lips. It had become her new favorite lipstick.

  As she drove, she wondered what Nik was doing with his family. Eating? Opening presents? Singing carols or watching classic Christmas movies? Her own family Christmas traditions involved opening presents during breakfast before a trip to church. Did his family go to church? She hadn’t even asked. It had been years since she’d stepped foot inside one.

  Since it was on her mind, she had the car call her parents’ house phone.

  Her mother’s sweet, resonant voice rang out from the speakers, bright with surprise. “Well, hi, baby!”

  “Hi, Mommy. Merry Christmas.”

  “Thanks, baby. I’m so glad you called.” Then, in a muffled tone, she called out, “Roy, Jess is on the phone. Pick up in the other room.�
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  She’d shown them how to use the speakerphone, but it hadn’t stuck. It hit her then that her parents, for the most part, always called her first. Always said “happy birthday” or “merry Christmas” first. Her childhood hadn’t been easy, certainly, but it hadn’t been all bad, and she knew they loved her.

  New Year’s Resolution #1: Call her parents more often.

  Her dad’s voice jumped in. “Are you doing anything fun today, Jessie?”

  “Hey, Daddy. I’m going to Starlight House to help out.”

  “Oh, that’s a lovely thing to do,” her mom said. “And what about that boy from the dancing video?”

  Jess tried to keep her tone light. “Um, I don’t know what he’s up to. We’re just friends.”

  Were they even that now? And it was a lie—she did know what he was up to. She might not know what he was doing that very moment, but she knew he was celebrating Christmas, surrounded by his family.

  As her mom detailed what she was making for dinner and her dad shared all his thoughts on the latest blockbuster action movie, Jess wondered if maybe she’d been holding onto old anger for a bit too long.

  Her parents were people. People had flaws. They had their own bullshit that got in the way sometimes. But they weren’t evil. Had their flaws affected her childhood? Yes. But how long was she going to make them guilty for that? She was an adult now. It was time she stopped blaming her parents for her own unhappiness.

  And her own poor relationship choices.

  It was too late now, but maybe next year she’d visit them for the holidays.

  For now, she was going to do the next best thing.

  She said goodbye to her parents and parked in the small lot outside Starlight House. From here, she could appreciate the effort they’d made to decorate. Pine boughs and holly outlined the front doors, woven with twinkling white lights. The sky above was overcast, but was due to clear up as the day went on. She swung out of the car and headed for the front doors.