Free First Position by Melody Grace Page B

dangerously sensual.
Raphael’s lips are cool on mine, slow and bold. His tongue
slides into my mouth, exploring, probing, and all the while his hands
stroke across my back, bringing me closer to the heat of his solid,
muscular body.
    I lose track of time, of the world, of my very name. All that matters
is the taste of him, the relentless seduction of his mouth, and the
slow-burn fire snaking through my veins. I kiss him back, hesitant at
first, but then bolder: reaching my hands to run them through his
hair, nibbling gently on his lower lip. Raphael lets out a low groan
at the pressure, then pulls away, leaving a shock of cool air where
his body was pressed against me.
    I blink back to reality, breathless and undone.
    “I...” I blink, my head spinning. “I really have to
go.” I turn to check the street, the entrance to the dorms just
down the block, and then I freeze.
    Mademoiselle. And half the troupe, gathered out front, about to leave
for dinner.
    About to catch me in the act.

Fourteen.
     
     
    I reel back, grabbing Raphael’s hand and dragging him around
the corner. My heart pounds with panic. Did anyone see us? What if
somebody looked? Oh God ... I picture what I must have looked
like on the corner just now, making out with Raphael like the world
was about to end.
    “What is it?” Raphael asks. “What’s wrong?
You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    I peer around the corner, but the group isn’t moving. “My
company,” I explain. “I can’t be seen with you.”
    “You aren’t allowed to date?” Raphael stops. “But
you’re an adult, surely they can’t say.”
    “No! I mean, yes,” I admit, still panicking. “But
not me, not right now. Look, it’s complicated, I’ll
explain later. I just need to get back inside without anyone seeing
me.”
    Raphael doesn’t seem reassured, but he thinks for a moment. “Is
there a back entrance, any way in from the street?”
    My mind races. “The balcony!” I exclaim. “We’re
on the first floor, maybe there’s a fire escape.”
    “Come on.” Raphael takes my hand, and leads me down the
back alleyway behind the building. I’ve only ever seen it from
above, the view from our room, but now I look up, searching the
windows and small ledges until I find our balcony: Rosalie’s
delicate nightgowns hanging from the railing to dry.
    “Up there,” I point. “But there’s no way up.”
    “There’s always a way.” Raphael strides forwards
and pulls on the trellis that’s fixed to the wall. Vines and
flowers twist up the side of the building, threading in and out of
the thick wooden frame. “Here, this is solid, it goes right to
your room.”
    “I can’t climb that!” I yelp.
    Raphael takes my hand, giving me a cocky, devil-may-care grin. “Sure
you can. I’ll give you a leg up.”
    I pause. It’s clear he’s done this a dozen
times—scrambling places he’s not supposed to go, on some
reckless adventure. But me? There’s nothing reckless about my
life.
    Then my phone buzzes with a text. Karla.
    We’re all waiting. Where r u?
    I look up at the trellis again and gulp. “OK.”
    Raphael puts his hands together to make a step. I use his shoulders
as leverage and clamber up. He lifts me higher, effortlessly, like I
weigh nothing at all, until I’m gripping hold of the trellis.
“You got it?” Raphael checks.
    “Uh huh.” I find a foothold, and cautiously climb higher.
It’s not so far, I see: only a few feet now between me and
safety. I draw level with the balcony, and reach out, stretching with
one hand to grasp a hold of the railing. I feel the solid iron under
my fingertips and relax. Home free.
    Suddenly, the trellis gives way, slipping several inches under my
weight. My body lurches down, my foot still trapped in the frame. A
stab of pain shoots up through my ankle, and I let out a cry.
    “Annalise?” Raphael calls. “Hold on!”
    The pain in my ankle throbs, white-hot. I gasp for air, tears
stinging in my eyes. But there’s