Page 72 of Flirty Dancing

Ben and Beau stood in the door. Holding hands.

Archer’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah…” Ben said. “We’re back together.”

Beau grimaced. “Sorry.”

There was a thump as Mateo dropped a box of medical tape. “Are you f—” he started.

“We know,” Ben said sheepishly. “We are so sorry for all the drama.”

Beau slid his arm around Ben’s waist. “We had a good talk and worked some things out. And we’rereallysorry.”

There was a beat of shocked silence, then another.

“Excellent!” Stewart said. “Well, we have things figured out for the next time you break up, don’t we? Mateo, did you write down our plan? In the meantime”—he breezed right over Ben and Beau’s protests—“let’s run through tonight’s show, shall we? From the top!”

16Rainy Day

Archer woke on the second Sunday of July to the gentle drumming of rain on the window. He wiggled back under his blanket with a contented sigh, letting the sound lull him back to sleep. Or rather, that was the plan, but the staccato whispers of Beau and Ben sniping at each other drowned out the raindrop patter. Archer pressed his pillow over his ear and swallowed a groan.

It was wonderful that they got back together, of course—all Mateo and Stewart’s frantic work to rearrange the partnerships aside. With things patched up between the B-Boys, and everyone on their best behavior, Stewart had tightened up their shows with a few long days of rehearsal. Everything seemed to be back in order before he left again, citing Judy’s upcoming birthday celebrations and all the work there was to be done in advance—especially because the caterers didn’t understand Judy’s specific dietary needs.

But now… Archer peeked out from under his pillow. TheLIFE IS SWEETpie magnet Mateo had given him forhis birthday caught his eye. It was stuck to the base of his bedside lamp, and it was the first thing he saw every morning. He looked past that to Caleb’s empty bed—gone already, as usual. The man was religious about his workout regime. Ben and Beau’s whispers grew more frantic as Archer rolled over.

“I’m awake,” Archer mumbled. “You can stop whispering.”

“Sorry, Archer.” Ben sighed.

“What, so it’s all my fault?” Beau glared daggers at Ben.

Archer sat up, raking his fingers through his hair. “Don’t mind me. I’ll get out of your way.” He collected a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from the floor and pulled them on, ignoring their feeble protests. On a whim, he grabbed his new copy ofThe Hobbitand tucked it under his shirt, pulled up his hood, and ventured out into the rain. It was a welcome relief from the heat of July, and he took deep, moss-scented breaths on his way up the path.

He stopped by the dining hall for a late coffee and a breakfast sandwich, then, instead of heading back to the dorm, took the other path that went down to the center green. He was certainly not going to wade back into the hostile waters of his room, and he didn’t want to go down to the cabin, knowing all of the off-duty staff would be packed in there.

Archer stood under a tree and took in the scope of the resort laid out before him. Shady Queens was quiet on rainy days. The beach was deserted, the volleyball courts empty. Some guests would stay in their cabins for a cozy day of reading or board games, and the rest would head up to the main building for a craft or movie.

He was thinking about finding a sheltered bench somewhere when it hit him—the theater. The covered porchhad padded seating, and no one would be there this far before showtime. He ducked his head and hustled over the slick grass. Shaking drops of water from his hood, Archer clambered up the theater stairs and pulled his book from his sweater. He came up short when he saw another figure who had had the same thought curled up on a bench with a view of the rippled lake.

“Oh. Hi.” Archer stopped, feeling like a big fat intruder.

Mateo looked up. “Hi.” His face was soft, no sign of irritation at being interrupted.

“Sorry, I—”

“Don’t be sorry.” Mateo nodded at Archer’s book. “Looks like we had the same idea.”

“I can find somewhere else…”

“Archer. It’s fine. There’s lots of room here.”

Archer hesitated a split second before he took the bench next to Mateo with the same view of the lake and sat facing him. “You needed to escape, too?”

Mateo grimaced. “Yeah, there was a beer pong tournament in the cabin. You can imagine the noise.”

“I sure can. What are you reading?”

Mateo held up the Tolkien translation ofBeowulfthat Archer had seen on his bedside table. “I reread Beowulf every few years.”

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