Page 39 of Surviving the Merge
“You ready?”
I tore my attention from the living room window at the sound of Blake’s voice. He descended the stairs tugging at the cuffs of his tuxedo. His already masculine hands gained more masculinity by the ring he wore. A thick, gold band with a gaudy onyx solitaire. Sexy.
He paused at the bottom of the landing. He’d shaved his shadow a bit lower, and the light glinted off his dimples. He knew what he did to me.
Outside a limo waited for us. This was no spur-of-the-moment date.How long had he been planning this?
Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of The Oregon Ballet House. We were there to see the opening night performance ofLa Bayadère. I gazed through the tinted limo window in open surprise. Red carpet, cameras, the who’s-who were piling out of their own limos or fancy cars with names I couldn’t pronounce. Men donned tuxes, and women wore gowns chased by trains.
I slumped further into my seat, the leather screaming its protest. When my stare met Blake’s, he eyed me curiously. I hadn’t forgotten about the show. I just hadn’t planned on going. Not wanting to be reminded of what I gave up. Or feel what I felt at that moment. That I’d made a mistake. That the show went on without me.
“You remembered,” I said with a touch of melancholy.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he asked. “And I know what you’re thinking, but whether you know it or not, you need to be here. This came together because of you, Justin. Your hard work. Hours and months of dedication. You can’t forget that, simply because you made up your mind to take some time off.” He slid closer to me when in answer I turned away. He pulled my chin in his direction.
“This is your night. Michael might have stood in for you as Ballet Master, but what takes place on that stage tonight isbecauseof you. Your love for dance is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Even with all you went through as a child and into adulthood, you still managed to become one of the youngest Principals andtheyoungest Ballet Master. We’re not going to sweep that under the rug, are we?”
Blake held out his hand and gave me a look that said his question wasn’t rhetorical. I took what he offered and squeezed tight. “No, we’re not,” I said.
Not only were we attending the show, we had the best seats in the house.
Michael took to the stage, and after a spotlight was placed on me, he announced my accomplishments and contributions to the performance. He thanked me for giving him the opportunity to fulfill his dreams, claiming he’d learned from the best. His words humbled me.
I stood at his request, turning to take in the faces of everyone on their feet offering me a thunderous round of applause.
Blake was right?again.I needed this. Looking at him, I mouthed,I love you.
His smile touched his eyes, and he continued to clap the loudest.
* * *
Floatingdown the stone theater steps after having slipped backstage to offer my congratulations on a job well done, the corners of my mouth twitched watching Blake lean against the limo parked at the curb, hands in pockets and head tilted up to the darkened sky. “What are you looking for?” I teased.
“I think it’s going to rain,” he said with a dimpled smile, pushing off the bumper to open the door with a sweeping gesture for me to enter.
“A perfect end to a perfect day.”
“Most people pray for sunny days,” he said laughing. “You’re a strange man, Mr. Daniels.”
I kissed him and ducked inside.
It did rain. And I lounged on the couch, watching the treetops make their stand against the deluge and the gale beating down on them. Swaying but refusing to fall. Reminded me of myself in that way.
Blake had long ago fallen asleep, but I sat filled with a nervous energy that kept me from slumber. To be honest, I hoped Damon would show.
My ears registered the faint sound of footsteps behind me. Butterfly wings flapped in my belly, and I launched myself over the sofa-back and ran into him full force, taking us both to the ground.
“Umph,” Damon grunted, his back meeting the unforgiving hardwood floor. I winced.
“Someone missed me,” he said after catching his breath, smiling up at me.
“Did you hear?” I shyly tucked my hair behind my ears, delighting in the feel of Damon roughly kneading my ass through my underwear.
“Yes.” Pulling me down by my nape, he stole my air with a searing hot kiss. Releasing my lips but keeping me close, he whispered, “I wish I could’ve seen it.”
“Me too,” I replied, raising up into a sitting position. Even with his many faults, Damon had never come between me and dance. He always encouraged me and never missed a show.
“Do you miss Elite?”
