Page 22 of Loan Wolf
When he closed up the shop promptly at five, he took the box of condoms and tossed it into the passenger seat of his truck. He had to drive past the theatre to get home anyway, so he pulled into the parking lot and sat there for a long moment, reading the text that he hadn’t replied to several times.
Finally, he got out of the truck and went into the unlocked lobby.
No one was around and the box office was empty, but Gabe could hear voices from the theatre itself. He let himself quietly into the back, making sure the door closed silently behind him. There were a few people scattered through the house. He recognized Linda’s styled hair, and her assistant sat beside her taking copious notes. Clara’s mother was sitting near the front, and Gabe’s wolf rose up and growled in his chest to see Trevor and Aaron in the front row.
But then he saw Clara and everyone else went away.
Gabe had never seen Clara dance before.
He knew, because everyone in Green Valley knew, that she was a remarkable talent and a dedicated dancer, but he never looked at the YouTubes or TikToks that everyone gushed over. He’d seen her posters, her classic beauty in classic poses, wearing a classic tutu with her toes in unnatural points.
But posters couldn’t capture her grace, and Gabe had to suck in his breath when she came onto the stage.
She stepped out confidently, gliding into place as the light crew got her spots set up. Her hair was haloed gold, like an angel. It was pulled back tight in a bun that wouldn’t have fit under a bike helmet, every shining strand in place. She was dressed in leggings and a tank top that managed to be modest and yet not leave a single line of her figure to the imagination.
Someone unseen at a soundboard started the Nutcracker, and Clara flowed into motion so fluid and perfect that Gabe forgot to breathe.
“Stop!”
The moment was shattered by a sharp voice and Twiller came out on the side of the stage. “Move the light to the left!” she called into the house. She turned to Clara with a tsk. “This is a smaller stage than you’re used to, you must have tighter movements and that was too sloppy. What are you doing with that noodle arm? Crisp motion! Deliberate shape!”
Protect her, his wolf growled. Don’t let that woman speak to her that way.
It took all of Gabe’s willpower not to charge down the aisle and get between them as Twiller yanked Clara’s arm into form. He made himself sit in the back row and clutch the arm rests.
“Again!”
Twiller and Clara moved off to the side of the stage as the music was stopped and restarted.
Gabe didn’t see any difference at all as Clara came dancing out; she was just as beautiful and perfect as the first time.
“Stop!”
Clara obediently froze in place.
“What, what is that footwork? If you are going to practice, you have to do it with your whole attention or you are just wasting our time. Strong steps, but gentle. Clara is an innocent young woman, we aren’t stomping onto the stage!”
Even from this distance, Gabe could see Clara set her jaw. “Yes, Madam Twiller,” she said tightly.
“What is that?” Twiller demanded, coming closer to peer at Clara closely, and Gabe rose up from his seat with his hands balled in fists at his side.
“What?” Clara said in alarm, touching her hair like she was expecting a spider there.
“Is that a hickey?”
Clara’s face went scarlet and she put her hand over her neck. “I…ah…of course not.”
Gabe felt a mixture of pride and guilt. He vaguely remembered kissing her there, perhaps a little harder than he ought to.
Twiller frowned, like she didn’t quite believe Clara. “Well, cover it with make-up, dear! People will assume you are being loose and a reputation isn’t something you can just repair. Let’s go again. Try not to shame me.”
Clara stalked back to the wings, still rubbing her neck as if she could erase the mark, and Gabe couldn’t stay to watch her being berated a third time.
He didn’t try to close the door quietly behind him this time, but it had a hydraulic closure and he was robbed of the opportunity to slam it behind him.
20
CLARA
