Amila froze in mid-turn. Her breathing halted as her heartbeats began to race and her mind started to grow frantic. She went to bed alone and now the faint breathing of another being was emitting from behind. The alarm drained all the sleep from her eyes as she scanned the nightstand for something that could be used as a weapon but the drab light that leaked through the cracks in the blinds didn't aid in her search. She knew her phone was close and there was a lamp but by the time she reached any of those things, the person would've throttled already.

Wait. Her chest fell releasing the breath she was holding letting the sensual, exotic scent of cardamom, vevrier, and rose wood whirled up her olfactory and her nerves unbundled. A washed over her like a wave during low tide; slow and calming. She knew who was in her bed and the thought of him filled her with subtle contentment as she flipped over to find him facing her; sound asleep.

She studied his face; the gingerbread skin that invoked her with a strong urge to quell her appetite for a taste and the beard covering his jawline that made her hand itch to touch and rub it. His plumped lips call her to lean in a taste and his long eyelashes had her entertaining a thought about a future mixture of them. She clenched her teeth cursing herself for thinking about a future with him when her own life wasn't in order. 

She didn't know what she wanted to do in the future and being his hired girlfriend wasn't a career she could sustain until fifty-five and it sure didn't have a retirement plan. She needed to craft a plan for her life before she started conjuring up ideas of spending her future with someone. Plus, her heart was too bruised to love or even strongly adore another human.

"I feel your eyes." Dominic sounded with sleep deepening his voice as he kept his head snuggled in the pillow. He opened one of his eyes and tried hard to keep the other closed but the little smile that formed on her face made him give her all his attention. "Are you being a stalker?"

She tsked twisting her face, disagreeing with his words, "You're in my bed, buddy."

"Buddy." He said the word as if it was offensive but the hint of a smile implied he liked it. "This is our bed." His arm scavenged underneath the covers until it found her waist and pulled her towards him. "Ours."

She gave in willingly to the power of his grasp missing the warmth of his body against hers.

"But I've been in it longer than you." She added, letting her finger slide over the trail of his one of the veins protruding along his hand like it was a road to his arm. "So, I have seniority."

He nodded agreeing with her then faintly shrugged then a moment of quiet fell over them as he let his eyes do the same thing hers did while he was closed. He studied her face as if he was trying to recommit it to memory then he took a breath letting his chest fall slowly as if being in her presence grounded him. Steady him. Pleased him.

"Did you miss me?" He asked, erasing the silence.

Amila quirked her head to the side as if she hadn't checked her phone every so often looking for a text or call from him; or that when a random sedan pulled into the driveway her heart swelled with joy only to crash when it just someone that was lost.

"Maybe a little." She told him with a smirk.

He pulled his head back in shock. "Well, then." He chuckled. "I guess I'm not that special."

"Nope." She nodded her head against the pillow. Her words called his eyes back to her. "Not at all."

His sight drunk in her big smile and the playfulness in her eyes. "You're lying." He rocked her. "You missed me a lot."

She laughed. Not wanting to admit the truth; she missed him too much for one person who had only known another person for only a month could miss someone. Maybe it was the fact that her heart was still sore from losing people she loved that it was eager to find the same love again. There wasn't love between them it was just ink and lust; money and sex. And maybe some good conversation and experiences along the way. But it wasn't love and he was her soulmate. He was just Dominic James; a man with too much going on in his professional life to get a real girlfriend and had settled for her. She was well aware of her place.

"Dominic. Dominic. Dominic." She sang his name as if it was a nursery rhyme. "Why do you ask me questions if you think you know the answers to them? It's a wasteful task."

"I don't think." He said, beginning to snake his hand up her torso. "I know you missed me." His hand slipped under her shirt to discover a little secret of hers. Her back arched when his fingers grazed her nipple.

"Fine." She breathed out as her leg instinctively went over his. "I missed you."

"Good." He squeezed her breast. "I missed you too."

His hand moved back to her waist and she immediately wanted to put it back.

He yawned as he stroked his thumb across her skin like it was a consoling task. "How was your day yesterday? I didn't get to call you."

She grinned at his words. He didn't call her a lot of the days he'd been gone. Some days he texted but usually after she replied to him it took hours for him to reply back. But she wasn't going to bring that up or stress over it. It was one of the reasons for their partnership. He didn't have the time to uphold the requirements of a regular relationship. So, she didn't dwell on it. She was going to do what was contractually required of her; be his girlfriend when he was present. Since he was in her bed, she was going to do just that.

"It was okay." She wrinkled her nose.

His head lifted from the stack of pillows, "What's that look for?"

"I um...okay..." She dropped her back against the bed and peered up at the ceiling. "I did something that I shouldn't have. Or maybe I should've..." She let out a breath of frustration. "It's complicated."

"Explain it to me." He said, sitting up and giving her a full-length view of his muscled chest and ripped abs. "Maybe I can help you uncomplicate it."

She looked at him pointedly and once he gestured for her to go on she took in a breath and began speaking.

"I went to a barre class." She started, shifting her gaze back to the ceiling. "There was a free class from one of my...our neighbors that also owes it and while I was at the barre... let my hand rest on it... I don't know." She paused to shrug as an overwhelming sense of delight filled her. "It felt like being home which was different from the last time I was next to one."

"How did you feel that last time?" He asked as if he was genuinely interested.

The look on his face made her continue with a very personal memory. "After winter break I tried to go back to my routine, and went back to school. I held it all together...after crying in the elevator but I got it together and made it down the hallway, did my stretches, and listened to the instructor's greeting and plans for the new semester. But when it was time to stand at the barre, I—" Her mouth opened but no words came out.

He claimed her hand in his and kissed her back. "It's okay." He held her hand as if his touch gave her strength.

She gave him a small smile then nodded to herself and continued. "I broke down. Wailed in front of the entire class. On the floor crying. My hand clinging to the barre. Thankfully, Deja was still in the city she came and got me. I couldn't pull it together."

She shook her head feeling tears prick the back of her eyes. She didn't know why she'd just shared that with him but then again there was something about him that made her feel comfortable around him; it was why on their first date she told him her dreams, hopes, and wishes. He relaxed her and made her open up.

"You know what this means." His voice wrapped around her like a hot tea on a cold day.

"What?"

"You're healing." He nodded and she did the same. "You were by a barre. You finished a class. You're healing."

"Maybe." She whispered feeling a little bittersweet about healing. She hoped healing didn't mean forgetting. She didn't want to forget her family. Forget her parents. Forget her twin. But she did want to get back some things she missed. She inhaled deeply to gather the courage to admit something that filled her after leaving the class. "I miss it."

"Miss what?'

"Ballet." She breathed out the word as if it was a weight bearing down on her chest and the truth had lifted it. "I miss it."

"Then get it back."

She shook her head, almost disturbing her headscarf. "It's not easy."

"If you love something it never is." He placed another kiss on her lips. "But it'll be worth it."

She nodded then grinned. "Dominic. I'm starving."

"Me too." He replied matching her smile. He leaned into her and kissed her as if it was something they'd been doing for years. They fell quickly into the rhythm they mastered the last time they were in bed together then he separated their lips. "But I'm not cooking. We're going out."

"Okay," She pulled off her headscarf and then hopped out of the bed. "But first, a shower."

She gathered the hem of the oversize sleepshirt and pulled it over her head as she walked to the bathroom and turned around giving him a full view of her naked body. "Are you coming?"

"Yes." He said hurrying out the bed. "Hell yes."

She laughed loudly as he tripped over the sheet and didn't want to let his leg go and when he hoisted her over his shoulder it morphed into a giggle. As she sat on the counter with him kissing her neck as they waited for the water to get warm she knew he was right; she was healing and she wondered if some of the healing was because of him. 

Do you think some of her healing is because of Dominic? 

Why do you think Dominic insisted on saying it was 'our bed'?

Do you think Dominic's advice about going after what you love was just advice about ballet or something deeper?

Do you think Amila is right; that the only thing between them is 'Ink and Lust = Money and Sex'?