Fallen Angel (Club Burlesque) by Logan Belle

other night, when you invited Violet to dinner, that it was a sign you were getting restless again. I was trying to be a good sport—to not be threatened by your interest in Violet and not to go back to the way things were when I first moved to New York. When you were the adventurous one and I was intimidated by everything.”
    “This always happens: You suspect that I’m interested in someone else; I admit that I fantasize about a three-way or something—just being honest with you because most guys would never admit that to their girlfriends but trust me they all think it—and then while I’m all talk, you are the one who goes out and actually hooks up with people! It happened with Bette, and it happened again tonight. How do you explain that? How do you expect me to feel about it?”
    Mallory didn’t know what to say. He had a point. Was this all her fault? Or was Allison right—the burlesque world, with its focus on the body as art, as a means of expression, where public nudity was no big deal, was skewing their perception of normal. Once Mallory accepted that anything was possible, was anything impossible? And was she using Alec’s curiosity or mild attractions and flirtations with other women as an excuse to explore her own fantasies? She really didn’t know.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, combing back his hair with her fingers. She wanted to lean in and kiss his temple, but she was afraid he would push her away. And she was afraid that the feel of her lips against his skin, or the smell of him, would be her undoing. “I love you. I wish I could take it back. You know I don’t want anyone else—any more than you do.”
    “How can I know that?” he said. And she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was in pain—that he wasn’t just arguing with her as a power play or out of ego. He truly doubted her.
    “Alec, please don’t say that. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone but you. I think this is all just growing pains. We’ve been together a long time.”
    “Maybe too long,” he said.
    She gasped.“What does that mean?”
    “It seems like this trip to LA is good timing. We need to be apart. Let’s not talk until I get back in a week. I need to think, and if you’re honest with yourself, you probably do, too.”
    “You don’t want to talk the entire time you’re away?”
    He shook his head.
    The last thing she needed or wanted was a week of not speaking with him—especially knowing he would be running around LA with Kendall James. This was a disaster. She had tried to make things better and look at what she’d done!
    “I don’t need to think!” she said. “I know how I feel about you. I know I want this relationship.” She reached for his hand, but he stood and walked into the bedroom. She followed him and watched him pull the blanket and a pillow off of their bed.
    “I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” he said.
    “Please don’t,” she said, knowing it was useless to try to change his mind. Alec was very stubborn, and she could tell by the coldness in the way he looked at her that this was beyond anything she could say in the moment. Now she was more than upset: she was scared.
    And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

9
    “H ey there,” Gavin said, walking into her office with his overcoat thrown over his arm.
    Mallory had spent the past two hours burying herself in the mountain of paperwork piled on her desk at the office. It was the only thing to keep her from checking the time, from obsessing, Alec is boarding the plane now. Alec is halfway to LA now. Alec will land in two hours. . . . The thought of going home that night was dreadful. She had packed her ballet clothes so she could go straight from the office to BAE and avoid the empty apartment for as long as possible.
    “Do you have court this morning?” Mallory said.
    Gavin was dressed in a navy blue, pin-striped suit. He looked good in suits, and she thought for the umpteenth time how handsome