Page 104 of The Pucking Wrong Man

“We won’t go out there unless it’s perfect,” he told me, amusement in his gaze at my enthusiasm.

“It will be,” I responded fiercely, already going through the steps in my head.

“We’ll start after lunch. Until the showcase, we’ll be practicing every afternoon session.”

I nodded. It would be intense. Giselle would be my most difficult role thus far. If the Company was performing the whole thing, there was no way I would have gotten the role. It was always awarded to ballerinas at the height of their careers. Not only did Giselle need to be able to act, but there was a controlled technique required that was difficult for any dancer.

I could do this.

“See you after lunch in Studio B,” he commented, his gaze flickering behind me as students were leaving another class.

“Yeah, see you,” I said awkwardly, playing it as cool as I could until he’d turned the corner.

I covered my mouth, and I screamed, shaking a fist in the air because all the excitement had to get out sometime. Pure joy leaked out of my every pore.

I would do this. I would be the best Giselle that ballet had ever seen. It would change everything. I just knew it.

It hit me then.

I could tell Camden about this. I hadn’t had anyone to tell anything...really ever.

Darting into the locker room, I pulled out the phone he was letting me borrow and shot off a text.

Me: You’re never going to believe what just happened.

His response was instant, like he’d been waiting for me to text him.

Camden: Tell me.

I could imagine him saying it in that bossy way of his and I grinned.

Me: I was chosen to perform the Act II pas de deux in Giselle for the Company’s upcoming showcase. I’ll be dancing with the Company’s principal male dancer!

Camden: I’m in awe of you, baby girl.

Sinking to the bench, my insides melted, my eyes growing suspiciously wet. I’d felt those words...everywhere.

Me: Thank you.

Camden: We’ll celebrate on our date tonight.

My smile grew at that reminder. Camden had somehow convinced me to take a week off from Charlie’s—to rest, he’d argued. But he’d also argued that dates were restful and planned one for every night this week that he didn’t have a game.

Me: Can’t wait.

I carefully put the phone back in the locker, and made sure it was locked up tight. I’d never had something so nice before. I was afraid to even touch it.

The Carvers had given me an old flip phone in high school—only because my caseworker had required it. But I’d left it behind when I left.

I wasn’t thinking about them today, though. Today was a day for celebrating.

It was amazing how a few hours could change everything. Rehearsal was going...terrible.

To start with, Dallon had been late. I’d gotten there fifteen minutes early, stretching and bouncing with nervous energy.

And then I waited. And waited some more.

He’d finally rolled in thirty minutes after we were supposed to start, unhurried and making no apologies.

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