Page 92 of Flirty Dancing

“Yes.” Archer nodded without hesitation. “We can do that.”

Mateo’s lips curled. “Okay. That’s the plan.” He whirled. “Dominik, are you good to dance?”

Dominik was at the sink, washing blood off his neck. “I think so? Little lightheaded.”

“Betty?”

“I’m good.” She flashed a thumbs-up from the makeup table. “As long as no one else bleeds.”

“And… Caleb?” Archer asked. Caleb hadn’t moved from the chair. He had stopped sobbing, but his head was bent, rested in his palms. Archer went over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Can you dance?”

Caleb’s laugh was devoid of humor. “It’s all I can do.”

Mateo gave a crisp nod. “I’ll take that as a yes. Time to dance, people. Archer? Let’s figure out what the fuck we’re doing.” Mateo took his hand and pulled him close. But instead of diving into the steps as Archer expected, Mateo stared into his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked in a low murmur.

“Yeah,” Archer said quickly. “I’m fine.” Then he realized his knuckles were white where he gripped Mateo’s hand and every muscle in his body was pulled tighter than a drum.

Mateo squeezed his waist. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

Archer obeyed, inhaling Mateo’s scent, and letting the tension drain from his muscles as he blew it out slowly.

“That’s good,” Mateo rumbled. “Better?”

Archer opened his eyes and met the dark warmth of Mateo’s. “Better.”

“Okay. After we finish here, let’s repeat the first eight bars…” Back to business, he began leading Archer through murmured instructions, in small, half movements, his hand always on Archer’s back or waist. “And then lunge, hold for four, back up slow, three, four, and snap to center, hold my eyes, seven, eight, good.”

His words rippled over Archer’s skin like the heat from a fire, setting an ember inside him aglow. His world was this cocoon with Mateo, hushed, focused, firm touches, soft breaths. He never wanted it to end.

“Do you know the paso?” Mateo asked when they finished working out that part, lips inches from Archer’s.

He willed himself to focus. “I’ve seen it enough, I feel like I do.”

“Okay, let’s try it.”

Mateo led him through, but Archer knew most of it. He was sure they wouldn’t be quite as sharp as the B-Boys, but it would do.

When they hit the final pose, Mateo’s gleaming eyes met his. “Ready to dance?”

Archer nodded.Dance? If you want, I could fly.

When Archer woke up the next morning, the dull ache around his eye was an instant reminder of what had happened last night. For a hot minute under the dazzling stage lights, he had thought they were going to pull it off. The extended tango duet he and Mateo pieced togetherwas flawless… and scorching hot. Then Dominik started bleeding again. Betty fainted. Caleb cried through the samba. Half the routines fell apart as they had to deal with those disasters on the fly. Then Archer blanked on the back half of the paso, so Mateo had to drag him through the steps. The rest of the troupe was either embarrassed or mad or worried throughout, and it did not lead to many smiles. The audience seemed baffled, tittering at first when they thought the goofs were part of the show, then descending into awkward silence, and finally, the worst insult of all, pitying applause.

After the second show, which went marginally better, Archer had looked around for Mateo but there was no sign of him. “Did Mateo leave?” he asked Betty, who was sprawled on a row of chairs with a cold cloth over her eyes.

“Yes, he said he was—and I’m quoting—‘fucking done.’”

Archer’s heart sank with those leaden words.Oh.He had imagined the heat, of course. Mateo was a pro. He had had to find a way for the show to go on, so he did. That was it.

“Fuck,” Archer mumbled, now into his pillow.Such an idiot.ThenFuckagain when he saw he had a text waiting from Mateo. He swiped it open, breath held.

Let me know when you’re up. I’d like to

talk.

His stomach heaved. Was there anything worse thanWe need to talkwithout any context? His brain spun with possibilities, each more outlandish than the last.He blames me for what happened with Ben and Caleb. He needs to explain why he hates me forever. He wants to kick my ass. He’s going to make sure I never get another dancing job as long as I live…

I wanted to say again how sorry I am for what happened,Mateo,he started typing.So, so, so sorry. I understand if you hate me—he stopped, staring at his words.Jesus, Archer.He deleted it all and tried again.Hi, I’m up. When/where do you want to meet?

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