Page 43 of Flirty Dancing

Mateo looked frozen too, and then he set his scone down. “Thank you.”

“Would it be too much to ask if you signed my Playbill, please?” She held it out to him with a fancy pen.

“Sure,” he said with a tight smile, reaching across the table. “How did this get here?”

“My assistant brought it for me when I saw you that first night.”

“Ah.”

Don’t ask, don’t ask, do not ask what happened,Archer chanted in his head at Eileen as Mateo scrawled his signature next to his face on the front and handed it back to her.

Eileen clutched it to her chest, eyes bright. “Thank you so much, Mateo. I will treasure this.”

Mateo shifted. “You’re welcome.” He picked up his plate again. “This scone looks delicious.”

“I certainly hope so! The oven here is so fussy…”

Archer let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He hoped they could make it through the rest of the tea without Eileen bringing upRobin’s Eggagain, and they did. She asked about Archer’s life, was shocked that he hadn’t had any luck on the audition circuit, and complimented their dancing again.

Archer asked about her background, and she regaled them with stories from her youth about ballroom dance competitions and the time she made it to the final round of auditions for the Rockettes.

Archer kept a nervous eye on Mateo, worried that he would be furious, but he seemed relaxed, eating at least three mini scones and having a refill of tea.

When it was time for them to head back and get ready for that evening’s performance, Eileen waved goodbye from the front porch with the promise to have them back soon.

“I’mso sorry,” Archer said the moment they were back on the path toward the main beach and out of view of hercabin. “I had no idea she knew who you were. I never thought about her wanting your autograph and shit.”

Mateo shrugged. “It’s okay. She’s sweet. And I had a good time, actually. She’s got great stories.”

Relief swept over Archer at Mateo’s reassurance. “That’s good. I did, too. I’m still really sorry, though.” They crossed the grassy flat, watching the families squeezing out the last of their day at the beach before it was time to get ready for dinner. “So… canIhave your autograph?” Archer hedged as the dorm came into view.

Mateo laughed, eyes crinkled against the dipping sun. “No.”

10Sweet as Pie

After the show the next night, on their way to hang out at the cabin for a bit, Caleb pulled Archer into the trees and pushed him up against a maple. “You looked so sexy tonight,” he murmured before leaning in and brushing their lips together.

“Oh, yeah?” Archer asked, responding with a lip brush of his own. “Was it the line dancing that did it for you? Or the Irish step dancing?”

“The line dancing, actually. I have a thing for cowboys…”

Caleb was a good kisser, and a tingle swirled in Archer’s stomach when Caleb’s lower lip settled between his. Caleb pressed up against him, sliding his hands under Archer’s T-shirt.

Archer laughed at the tickle. “Getting frisky in the woods?”

Caleb gave him a look with lidded eyes. “Maybe we go back to the dorm and put a sock on the doorknob?”

“Everyone’s waiting for us,” Archer demurred, softening the no with another kiss. “But… soon.”

“Alright.” Caleb took his hand and pulled him back into the path. “I can wait.”

And Caleb did seem okay with waiting. The days passed, one show blurring into the next, and he hardly left Archer’s side. Week two came to a close, with Drinking UNO for Game Night—much less contentious than Monopoly, although there was a disagreement over whether one had to pick up four if a pick-up-two was placed on a pick-up-two—then week three passed without incident.

Archer barely spoke to Mateo, with Caleb almost always attached to his hand or lips during their free time. When he did try to talk to Mateo, he got brusque replies, although their tango sizzled as usual. Game Night that Saturday was charades. There was no fighting over the rules this time, but Harley got super pissed at Daniella when she didn’t immediately guess Michael Jackson after his moonwalk and crotch grab. Her excuse was that she was laughing too hard, but Harley didn’t take the loss of that point well. It was a long, loud night, and Archer was really looking forward to sleeping in on Sunday when he and Caleb stumbled up the path in the wee hours of the morning. That was why it was extra rude when he woke up on Sunday to Caleb shaking him, much earlier than he would have liked.

“Wha…?” Archer muttered, rolling over and blinking Caleb into focus.

“You want to head into town today?” Caleb sat back on his own bed to put his shoes on.

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