Page 32 of Siren's Game

I thanked Josh but rejected his proposal immediately, warranting him to send me a crying face emoji. What an idiot.

"There you are," Naroa suddenly appears in front of us. She doesn’t meet my eyes and she also never mentioned our call.

In fact, she hasn’t talked to me about Asher at all, which is great but also a bit suspicious.

"Mike is waiting for you outside. You're going through your choreography on the field today to get a better understanding of the size of your stage."

"Alright," we say in unison and turn on our heels to change directions from toward the dance studio to the field.

I stop in my tracks when I realize the guys are training outside as well and swallow an annoyed groan. I'm not even sure what they are doing, but it involves throwing a football and running.

For a moment, Millie and I freeze, watching them appreciatively.

My eyes are immediately drawn to Asher and I hate myself for it. He’s running over the field, shorts revealing his muscular thighs and his bicep almost bursting the snug sleeves of his shirt.

His long hair is in a bun that sits surprisingly well considering how much he's moving. I would have already lost my hair tie, I just know it. Fuck him and his long, luscious and healthy hair.

I lift my arms to gather my own at my neck, twisting it around a hair tie until it's in a secure, low ponytail as I turn around and walk over to where Mike is waiting for us.

He's been our dance instructor since forever and even though he regularly tortures us, I really like him. He's one of the few people in the industry who are not afraid to tell us when we're fucking up, which I appreciate.

Because if he didn't, we'd make a fool of ourselves in front of our audience and I can't have that. It also keeps us humble. I can’t imagine having only yes-men and -women around me; that sounds like such a horrible prospect. It’s more common in the entertainment industry than one would think, though.

I know Millie hates dancing, but Mike is even patient enough to get her to a point where she doesn't look like she hates dancing. And that takes some serious skill.

"Good morning, you two," he greets us and cocks his hip. "I'd love to get started but I did not expect half of the field to be taken today," he grumbles and rolls his eyes. "But we'll make do. You need to practice taking the whole space, not only what we have available in the studio."

Millie giggles beside me and even I grin. Mike has already mapped out where everything is going to be with barely visible chalk on the ground: the stage, our way to the stage, the cameras. Then he hands us headphones, pulls us after him to our starting points and then begins counting down for us to start the choreography.

Mike really wasn't kidding. Doing our whole routine out here is so much more exhausting than doing it in the studio. Granted, the studio is maybe a third of the whole stage and it has air conditioning, but I vastly underestimated just how different it would be to practice on the full-size stage.

After our second run-through, I'm out of breath and sweating like a pig, and Millie is already lying on the ground, her torso heaving as she's trying to catch her breath.

"Mercy," she begs Mike between heaving breaths, but he only chuckles at our antics.

"Looks like we need to add more cardio to your training plan."

I bow down to reach for my empty water bottle and throw it into his general direction. I can't even manage to turn around to look at him; I just chuck it where I think his voice is coming from.

"Love you too, Kayla." He laughs and I raise my middle finger at him. Good thing that he's a good sport about foolery like this. Phones are the only thing where he draws the line.

"You do it three times back to back," Millie gasps and reaches for another water bottle. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Right, Mike. Show us how it’s done,” I tease him, making him shake his head.

"Why would I? I'm not the one who has to perform it in front of millions of people," Mike retorts with a chuckle. "Catch a quick break, you two, I'll get you some more water."

I groan as soon as he's out of earshot. "Does that mean what I think it does? We have to do it again?"

"I fear so," Millie grumbles and rolls on the ground until she's lying on her stomach, looking towards the guys. "Careful, boyfriend approaching."

She continues to roll somewhere, giggling to herself, and I wonder what the hell is going on with her. Is she delusional? A heatstroke? Didn’t sleep enough? On drugs? The only other time I've heard her giggle this much is when she's drunk. And I doubt she had a cocktail before our training.

"Hi, Sweetheart."

I stiffen, all of my muscles tensing, before I whirl around and shoot Asher a glare.

No matter how often I tell him, he just won't fucking stop using that godawful nickname. If it were just the nickname, fine, but he says it in such an overly affectionate way that it makes my toenails curl and the hair on my neck stand up. I hate it.

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