Chapter 4

After classes I opt out of heading to the pub with the others and instead make my way straight to the dance studio, closing the door firmly behind me and putting on my tap shoes. I don't have anything specific I need to go through, but it's good for getting my frustration out, and getting it out quickly. Tony has this incredible knack of getting me tied up in knots; fucking nightmare to be honest.

Hitting the play button on the stereo I whip my hoody off, tossing it onto a pile of mats and then walk into the centre of the room, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Sometimes I think that he's changed me, too. The old me wouldn't obsess over a single one night stand. The old me wouldn't fantasise about straight boys naked either, at least non-celebrity straight boys anyway. Tony's inside me though, creeping through my veins like poison, consuming me whole and I'm gradually becoming too weak to fight him anymore. That's why I have to keep away from him. I don't want that to happen.

I sigh, beginning to tap the toe of my right foot along to the beat of the music, and then tug the hat I'm wearing from my head, sending it flying across the room like a Frisbee. Fuck, I have to get him out of my head.

Hop spring tap step step. The movements come easily as I push thoughts of Tony to the back of my mind. Shuffle hop spring tap step step. Now this is better, this helps. A small smile graces my lips and I close my eyes, continuing the routine with precision, losing myself to the moment. I haven't done this for a while. I'd neglected my dancing and chosen to spend every waking moment worrying about his lord and master. What a fucking waste of time. Shit, I'm thinking about him again. Get a grip Maxxie. Shuffle ball-change tap step step stamp.

Spinning around to face the back wall and the clock hung up there, I lace my fingers behind my head. It's getting on for five, I only have until six when the women's aerobics class come in and take over the place. Oh well, it'll do me. Perhaps it's about time I found myself another show to audition for, and with that will come a very welcome distraction. If I threw myself into it hard enough, Tony would become a distant memory… for a few weeks at least. Then again, maybe not, I'm not entirely sure a few weeks is long enough.

Shuffle shuffle hop spring step. Facing the mirror once again I end the routine with a hard stamp, the sound echoing around the empty studio, reverberating off the walls. I don't move. I stay put, staring across at my reflection and my flushed cheeks with fierce determination. Several seconds later, the music kicks in again and I flawlessly fall into a new routine, giving it all of my concentration.

A minute or so later, I'm startled out of it as the swing doors behind me bang closed and Tony saunters into view. Shamefully, I end up tripping over my own feet as he catches me unawares. I finally come to a stop facing him, leaning forwards and placing my hands to my legs as I take a moment to get my breath.

'Don't stop on my account,' he says, moving to lean casually against the wall. 'By all means, carry on with what you were doing.'

Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head and then look down at the floor briefly before replying. 'Why are you here Tony?' I question, making my way over to the stereo and turning it off at the wall. The sound of trombones that had so cheerfully filled the room before stops abruptly, to be replaced with the soles of my shoes clacking against the laminate as I walk over toward him. 'Shouldn't you be tucked up in bed or something?'

Tony shrugs, all smiles, although it's clearly forced because he appears so pale and drawn. 'Tried that for a month, soon got boring,' he replies. 'It's a beautiful day, so thought I'd take a walk, and then, somehow, I found myself here. Amazing, isn't it?' He grins again and I feel like punching him.

I wouldn't say it was amazing, planned is what I'd call it. Choosing not to react immediately, I concentrate on gathering my things together again, tossing everything into my bag and putting the stereo away in the cupboard. He infuriates me. And what's more, it only gets worse as the days go by. It makes sense why Michelle forgave him day after day; he has one of those faces.

'What do you want?' The words tumble from my lips venomously and I haphazardly pull my hoody back over my head, blinding myself momentarily as my hair ends up in my eyes. I make a grab for my bag, almost dropping it as I do so and then shove my hat back onto my head. I'm in the process of changing my shoes when he decides to grace me with a reply.

'I was wondering why you seem to have this sudden aversion toward knowing me,' answers Tony, gazing at me with his tired eyes. 'Because, fuck, I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything to piss you off while I was unconscious.' His arms are crossed over his chest now and for the first time since the accident I get a proper look at him in broad daylight. The large bruise that had spanned across his cheekbone last week has faded now, but he still looks so, so tired.

I avoid replying his comment, crossing my arms and mirroring his stance, and then question, 'Have you talked to Michelle yet?'

He chuckles; it's a light merciless laugh, a laugh that doesn't quite register in his pale eyes. 'Will you treat me like a human being if I do?' he questions, moving to stand up straight and then reaching his hand out toward my face. I pull back, subconsciously flinching as his fingertips brush my cheek. 'Guess not.' He lifts his shoulders in a carefree shrug. 'Fucking hell, Max, if you don't want me anymore just say the word and I'll go and play happy families with Michelle.'

Now that is my problem, the way he's quite happy to swap and change without a second thought. He should have learnt his lesson by now. With a frown, I push past him and towards the doors. What's the point anymore? I'm never going to get what I actually want from him, pursuing anything is a waste of my time. But when he reaches out to catch hold of my arm and stop me in my tracks, my breath catches in my throat and I can't lie to myself anymore.

'Six weeks is a long time Maxxie,' he whispers, stepping up against me and then curling his fingers lazily around my throat. If it had been anyone else, I would have found this behaviour threatening, but with Tony it's all part of the game. He offers me a smile and then crushes our lips together without further warning. He's not wrong, six weeks is an awful long time. I feel myself give in, my hand balling into a fist as I latch onto his t-shirt and I lean up into the kiss a little more. It's been a long time coming, but every second of it is mouth-watering. I'm pretty sure if Tony wasn't suffering from a severe case of broken ribs he'd have me up against the wall right now.

Pulling away, breathing hard against his lips, I murmur, 'You should be resting, Tone.'

Tony's taken aback slightly, but then he grins, using my remark to his advantage and grasping hold of my hand. 'OK, you better walk me home then,' he says and tugs me through the doors.