Page 8 of Dirty Dancer

“Be careful what you ask for,” Sully warned. “I tend to be a bit of an asshole when I train.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I still like you.”

“Fine, then get into some training gear and warm up. We’re going to do some ground runs before we go aerial.”

We hadn’t even begun the bump in yet. “I thought you’d want to review my current shows first…”

He held up his phone. “Been catching up since you called. I already have some ideas. Now, move your ass. We have a limited amount of time to get you at least one new routine before this series of shows opens. No sense in wasting it.”

My mouth popped open a little. I’d just said I wanted to be pushed, but I hadn’t expected him to take me so literally. Snapping my mouth closed, I glanced at Freddie. I didn’t have a dressing room yet.

“I got you, Boo-Boo.” Then he held out a hand to me. Him asking for contact was always a huge thing. I had my own duffel with practice gear in it so I shifted the weight then slid my grip into his. “We’ll be back in fifteen.”

“Make it ten,” Sully said. The shifting temperature made me bite my lower lip even as I trotted along with Freddie toward the stage itself. The guys would be doing a full sweep, but Freddie would get me a dressing room sorted and guard it so I could change without any concerns.

“You’ll take fifteen,” Freddie said over his shoulder. “Or I’ll make it thirty.” He sounded positively smug about it.

“You’re going to make fetch happen, aren’t you?” At my question, Freddie shot me an amused smile.

“You want fetch to happen, Boo-Boo. Then we’ll damn well make fetch happen.” He was so damn serious, it made me giggle. Once we reached backstage, he shifted his grip from my hand. “You got your gun?” The last bit was asked in a low voice.

I patted the holster on my hip that was hidden by Vaughn’s huge sweatshirt. Liam had been working on getting me a carry license and a concealed carry license in every state I could possibly need it. I wasn’t even sure if Florida was on the list yet, but the guys were firm, I was armed at all times unless I was actually on stage or in practice.

Even then, I always had backup.

“Good. Stay behind me.” He took point. The backstage area was quiet, lights on and while there was a crew who worked at the theater, they weren’t going to be working on my equipment or bump-in. We brought our own people. So unsurprisingly, the backstage was mostly empty.

As quiet as it was and decorated in puddles of light from the overheads, a peace rippled over me. I loved the feeling of a theater at all stages of a performance. From now, when it was in resting mode. Then when activity picked up during bump-in and rehearsals, to the night of performances when the energy thrummed through the building.

Freddie led the way down the hall. He had his phone in one hand, but his attention wasn’t on it so much as the doors along the hall. Without consulting for directions, he led me right to the stairs that took us down to a lower level. A blanket of silence enveloped us as we descended.

The stairs opened out into a wider hallway with signs pointing toward different stage access points, including an elevator that would take me right up to the rafters. Freddie inspected each door along the hall, but he angled to put me closer to the elevator. It meant when I came down or went up, I’d be right here.

I liked that. He did a full scan of the hall before he opened the first of the doors and I moved to put my back to the wall next to the door. It let me watch both ways down the hall. It also meant I could warn him if trouble came looking for us.

In the room, Freddie grunted. At his snort, I suppressed another smile. A long sigh accompanied his reappearance. “Don’t like this one. Next.” Three more rooms were inspected, but it was the fifth one we visited that made him happiest. “C’mon in, Boo-Boo.”

I slipped inside to see what had finally met his requirements. There was a sofa, a makeup counter, a separate bathroom and a closet. Pretty standard, well for the headliners. The chorus performers and the supporting players might have to share a room or they had to use one of the bigger makeup areas. Private room or not, they had communal bathrooms.

That used to never bother me. Just like nudity didn’t bother me. Particularly after Eric though, I liked the ability to lock a door and pee in peace. The guys were even more particular. They didn’t pay a lick of attention to any of the dancers walking around in partially dressed or undressed states. But Vaughn didn’t care for them being able to see me, and for Freddie?

Well, for Freddie it wasn’t even a question. He didn’t want to see them and he didn’t want them seeing me. It was just easier for him all the way around. That was worth more to me than all the rest combined.

“I like it,” I said. “Will you make sure they set up my gear in here?”

“Yep,” he said. “You want me to stay or go while you change?” Normally, in an empty theater, he would just step out without asking. He only asked when others were present in the building.

“You are always welcome,” I assured him as I stripped the sweatshirt off. I’d need to take off my gun and holster. Freddie would take it while I performed until my gun safe was brought in with the rest of my equipment. I had a tank top on under the sweatshirt. “Are you okay with staying?”

He scratched at his jaw, then shoved a hand through his hair. The blond locks were getting longer again and I rather liked the length on it. He hadn’t gotten a haircut since we got on the road. Vaughn had and so had Rome, but not Freddie.

“I want to stay,” he admitted and I locked gazes with him in the mirror. A quick frown tightened his brow. “That’s okay, right?”

“Of course it is,” I said, pivoting to face him. “You just—you never tell me when you want something lately. You always have me choose unless it’s really about security.” In those cases, it was never a question for any of us.

“Maybe it’s time some of that changed,” he said and I couldn’t stop my smile. “I don’t know what it will look like, but I want to find out.” The uncertainty in him was still there and I wanted to…

“Can I hug you?” Contact was still on his terms, period.

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