Anything He wants

All absorbed in their own little worlds.

I lean back in my seat and relax. A smile spread across my face when I look out the window and see New York City shimmering like a flicker of light in the water.

As we fly closer and closer, the scintillating cityscape comes into view. My jaw drops at the lofty skyscrapers, the glistening windows and metal siding of the buildings, the twisting streets that traverse the bustling metropolis below.

I feel a flutter of nervous excitement. It’s all coming together! My dreams of making it in the world of gymnastics and dance, of becoming a real star, it’s so close I can almost taste it.

After years of hard work, I’m finally going to train with the best of the best, a talent scout and former athlete-turned-coach named Nick Thomson.

He’s world-famous, ridiculously successful, and well-connected.

He’s worked with the best of the best, and he knows the industry backward and forward. I’ve never met him, never even seen the guy, but I remember his name.

He’s the guy all my idols have worked with. He’s the one who catapults potential into stardom. And now it’s my turn to gain from his power.

As the plane descends for landing, my excitement shoots through the roof. By the time we’re disembarking, I’m so giddy I nearly forget all my luggage. I’m grinning ear to ear as I roll my carry-on through the bustling NYC airport.

Everywhere I look, people are moving at top speed, all on a mission. Back home in Ohio, it’s a slower pace of life. I’ve always been the odd one out, the girl who tries too hard and won’t take time off. But here, everyone seems to be that way.

City folks walk with a purpose, and I do my best to join them. My heart is soaring as I go to baggage claim, grab my pink suitcase, and keep it moving.

I can see all around me people are reuniting with each other. Family members cheer and hug each other. Couples run to each other’s arms and catch up in a passionate kiss.

It’s a beautiful sight to behold, but it gives me a little twinge of homesickness. There’s no family, friend, or lover waiting to scoop me up. I left everything and everyone I know back home.

But when I see a sign with my name, Carly Kittredge, emblazoned across it, I light up. Holding the sign is a man so startlingly handsome, I do a double take.

He’s tall, built like a powerful athlete, and dressed like a stylish New Yorker. He’s also nearly old enough to be my father, a fact which definitely draws me in.

I’ve always preferred older guys, and this one is a perfect specimen.

He has dark hair streaked with glimmering silver, green eyes that enchant me from a distance, and a calm assuredness about him. I instantly feel a connection with him.

The fact that he really resembles the literal man of my dreams isn’t lost on me. But could it be– this is the Nick Thomson? How did I not realize how gorgeous he is?From NôvelDrama.Org.

I walk up to him with a shy wave. “Mr. Thomson?” I pipe up. He nods. “Miss Kittredge?” “That’s me!” I chirp back.

He smiles at me, and I melt at his dimples and the soft crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He offers a handshake, but being a nice Midwestern girl, I instinctively go in for a hug. Instead of making it weird, he embraces me fully. From the second my cheek touches his strong chest, I’m a goner.

There’s a connection between us that is instantaneous. Suddenly, I don’t feel so homesick. His warmth, his strength, his demeanor– everything makes me want to be close to him. Always.

Oh god. One second in, and I’m already falling for my coach.

“It’s good to finally meet you. We’re going to do great work together, I can tell,” he assures me in a voice velvety smooth and deep. “You can call me Nick. Or even Coach.”

I hope there aren’t actual hearts coming out of my eyes.

“I’m so excited to be here. It’s truly an honor,” I reply breathlessly.

“Thank you. The feeling is mutual,” Coach Nick remarks. “Come on, let’s get out of this stuffy airport. The city awaits.”

He offers me his arm and I happily take it. He grabs my suitcase with the other arm and leads me through the crowded airport to the gleaming exit. We step out into the free air and a sleek, very expensive, black luxury sedan rolls up to the curb.

“Is that your car?” I ask, shocked.

“Yes,” he answers.

“Then who’s driving it?” I ask.

He chuckles. “My chauffeur. Louis.”

Coach opens the back passenger door for me and I slide in while he puts my suitcase in the back. Louis, a jolly-looking man with wispy white mutton chops, smiles at me in the overhead mirror. I smile back bashfully.

Coach slides in next to me and closes the door. The car pulls away from the airport pickup and out onto the road.

“It’s about an hour or so drive with traffic,” Coach points out. “You can get comfortable, even rest your eyes if you’d like. I know you’ve been training hard, and we’re going to work even harder together.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could keep my eyes closed when there’s so much to take in,” I gush.

“In that case, Louis, turn on some music,” Coach Nick requests.

I’m on cloud nine as I watch the landscape changing outside the window. Even the view from the highway is intriguing to me. I’ve never been far from home.

The farthest I’ve gone before now was Chicago one time for my sixteenth birthday.

Sinatra’s silky vocals and brass set the mood while we drive through the city to the Brooklyn Bridge. I am fascinated by the world outside. I can’t get enough of the architecture, the fashion, even the grunge and grime of the city enchants me.

It’s a whole different world from the suburban life I’ve been living.

As we cross into Manhattan, I’m awash in noise and color. Everything is teeming with life, from the gigantic billboards, the honking cars, the traffic lights, people laughing and shouting, music blasting from windows and cars.

It’s a smorgasbord of sensory overload and I love being drenched in it all.

I shake my head with amazement as I stare out the window.

“I can’t believe this is my real life,” I murmur.

“Believe it. You’re really here,” Coach says warmly.

I turn to look at him, happy tears in my eyes. “I’ve worked so hard for this. It’s like a dream come true,” I confess.

“Your audition tapes were very impressive. You beat out hundreds of other top-notch candidates to win this partnership with me. You deserve to be here, Carly,” Coach Nick insists. His green eyes are bright with passion.

“Thank you, sir. I intend to prove it every day!” I assert.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, we only have a few short weeks together. But you are already so advanced, we’ll have no problem getting you ready for the upcoming season of competitions and auditions. You’ll be perfectly positioned to sweep the field, be a real contender on the international stage,” Coach Nick explains.

“I’m ready to work,” I assure him.

He smiles and nudges my shoulder with his. “I believe it.”

After a long, exciting ride through the city, we arrive at a luxurious apartment building that stretches way up into the sky. Louis pulls to the curb and retrieves my luggage while Coach and I step out onto the sidewalk.

“Thanks, Louis. I’ll take it from here,” Coach Nick says, taking my suitcase.

Louis leaves to park the car, and Coach leads me into the building, past a smiling doorman. The interior of the building is even more beautiful than the outside somehow. Everything is bright white and modern, slick fixtures and clean lines everywhere I look. We take the elevator up to the top floor-the penthouse suite. My heart is hammering like crazy as Coach leads me into his apartment.

“Holy cow,” I breathe, looking around at the impressive space.

“So, this is my home. You’ll be staying with me, since our work will involve early mornings and late nights. In order to reach maximum potential, we’ll have to keep close. This is an intense partnership, but I think you already understand the value of hard work and dedication,” he explains as he leads me on a tour of the place.

Every room is more luxe and elegant than the former. A full chef’s kitchen. A lofty living room with vaulted ceilings and wide, bright windows. Two full bathrooms with incredible golden fixtures, clawfoot tubs, rain showers, the works. He shows me a private gymnastics and dance studio tricked out with everything we could possibly need.

“Wow. An in-home studio,” I gasp.

“Of course. My home also comes with access to the gym, pool, spa, and sauna on-site,” Coach says. “And here is your bedroom.”

He opens the door to a gorgeous, neat room with a queen-sized bed and a lovely sitting area. There’s a walk-in closet and a bay window overlooking the city.

“It’s beautiful,” I exclaim.

“It’s yours for the time being,” he says. “My room is on the other side of that wall, so I’m close by in case you need anything.”

I’m suddenly intensely aware that we’re just two good-looking, athletic, passionate adults standing in a romantic bedroom. Alone together. With that unmistakable connection crackling between us like a live wire. I can feel his body heat. I can smell his manly scent. His presence is doing strange, wicked things to my own body. I wonder if he can tell. But before the tension reaches a screaming peak, he steps away with a glance at his watch.

“My apologies, Carly. I hate to leave you so soon after your arrival, but I have a meeting with an important corporate sponsor in about half an hour across town,” he says.

“I’ll be fine! I’m just going to unpack and relax a little bit,” I assure him.

“Perfect. Make yourself at home, help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen. I will be back sometime tonight. If the meeting runs late, don’t feel obligated to wait up for me,” Coach says. “Again, it’s wonderful to meet you, Carly.”

He slips away, leaving me to wander around the penthouse in a giddy daze. I unpack, I explore a little more, I make myself a sandwich made of the most upscale ingredients I’ve ever seen outside of a fancy restaurant. I take a long, leisurely soak in a clawfoot tub while listening to music. I take my time drying off and lounging around in a fluffy white robe provided for me. After a while, I video-call my family back home. I have a great time catching up with my mom, dad, and two older sisters. I walk around and show them some of the penthouse, which they all find deeply impressive. My sisters, both athletes in their own right, are excited for me but a little bit jealous. My mom reminds me to be careful, my dad tells me to work hard and do what Coach Nick says. I’ll have no problem doing that– in fact, I would do just about anything Coach wants. In or out of the studio.