LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) (12 page)

I grabbed a liter bottle of water and chugged it in one go. I needed to stay hydrated or I’d be getting cramps in my muscles.

Alice came and sat with me, wide-eyed and trying not to panic.

I put my arm around her and she leaned into me as we iced our sore muscles and tired feet. I discreetly placed another ice-pack on my crotch.

“Do you want to walk through the third number again?” I offered. “Help you get it straight in your mind?”

“Oh my God, would you?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, deciding that an extra rehearsal would be the quickest way to keep my balls long term.

Ninety minutes before the curtain was to go up, the leads arrived and started their vocal warmups. You never know with the leads if you’re going to get a diva or someone really nice. When I worked with Kelly Clarkson, I was expecting a bitch on wheels, but she was awesome, hard-working and down to earth, really friendly, and just hung out with everyone.

Martin, the lead guy, shook my hand and kissed Alice on her cheek, but didn’t seem all that interested. Beverley, who played the Whitney Houston role, was warmer, but kind of distracted, although she did welcome us to the family, which I thought was a nice touch.

The chorus guys’ changing room was in the basement of the theater, so we had to run up the stairs to the backstage area between a couple of the quick costume changes. But waiting in the wings, you could
feel
the audience just behind the heavy curtain, their excitement spilling over.

I hadn’t talked to Alice again, but I could see her on the other side of the stage. She looked like she was going to be sick. I hoped not—it’s no fun slipping in vomit, especially someone else’s.

From a corner in the wings, I could see the audience, actually see all their faces, right to the back of the Upper Circle. Alice’s expression was frozen, and I knew she was thinking, ‘Oh my God, what am I doing here?’

But I wasn’t worried, even though she was shaking. Because we all feel like that. When the music starts, you switch on, and you do it. Jesus, the buzz—it’s the biggest feeling.

The lights dimmed and the music pounded out, the ten guys and girl in the orchestra sounding much bigger in the vast theater.

Beverly’s voice was huge, blasting out through the speakers. I didn’t have time to think about it anymore, and my body knew what to do. Plus, the other guys were totally professional, and if I missed a cue, I only had to look at them to know where I was and what steps I should be doing. I didn’t expect to need their help, but it’s good to know that the other dancers have your back—everyone wants a good show.

And I was flying, electricity flowing through my veins, spinning me around, reaching for the stars in those white-hot spotlights.

Magical.

We were just coming to the intermission when it happened.

It was watching a train wreck. In slow motion. You’re screaming inside, but like one of those dreams where you’re trying to run through quicksand, I couldn’t get there in time.

Alice took off on the wrong foot in the wrong direction, heading into the dancers coming from the opposite direction. The first two managed to dodge her, but the third, a really big guy, crashed into her, sending her sprawling across the stage, nearly tripping Beverley who was trying to perform her show-stopping solo at the end of the first act.

Alice landed on her ass, center stage, and I heard a ripple of shock and then amusement rise up from the audience. I waited for her to get up and out of the way, move, anything! But she just sat there, an expression of horror frozen on her face.

In my head I was screaming at her.
Move!
The first rule of dance, the first rule of theater,
the show must go on
. It doesn’t matter what happens on the stage, you keep going, but Alice had frozen. Not only had she caused a crash, but she was about to cause a pile-up as the dancers coming from the wings hadn’t seen what happened, and would be running onstage and tripping over her.

I had to get her off the stage. There was no time to do anything else, so I ran forward, doing a knee-slide, so I was beneath Beverley’s eye-line, then I scooped Alice into my arms and ran offstage.

I carried her right up to the women’s changing room. By then the shock was wearing off and when I dumped her into a chair, she wrapped her arms around her knees and started rocking.

“
Ohmygodohgmygodohmygod!
” Then she looked up at me, tears staining her cheeks. “I’m so going to get fired.”

That was my thought, too. It just depended on how good her contacts really were.

Gretchen came bustling in followed by a glowering Kathryn.

“Worse things happen at sea,
liebchen
. You must not worry.” She patted my arm. “You are a nice boy.”

I think she would have said more, but Kathryn was steaming.

“Luka, would you give us a moment?”

Alice shot me a panicked look.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said reluctantly, heading back to the basement.

The yelling started right away, and I had a feeling Alice wouldn’t be dancing in the second half.

I didn’t see Alice leave the theater, but I heard she was in tears. Kathryn was furious, and we were all keeping our heads down.

She wasn’t fired even though Kathryn wanted to.

“Luka,” she snapped, striding toward me. “You’re freestyling the sections you’d have danced with that idiot. And for God’s sake get Bev’s airplane lift right and the overhead one.”

When your D.C. talks to you like that, there’s only one answer.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The second half went okay, I wouldn’t say any more than that. If I’d been D.C. on the show, I’d have pulled my role completely, even though I was the guy doing the airplane lift with Bev. It was putting a lot of trust in someone on their first night, especially after what had happened. I appreciated the vote of confidence, but everyone was slightly on edge, and we all lost our groove, just a little.

I don’t think the audience noticed, or if they did, it didn’t stop them cheering at the end. Felt good.

I took my time showering and getting changed. I was tired, not having slept much the night before, but a good kind of tired—which meant I’d sleep really well tonight. Although the thought of going back to an empty apartment didn’t hold much appeal.

Seth had been sending me texts all day, but we hadn’t arranged to meet. Maybe tomorrow, after I’d . . .

“Hey, handsome.”

Seth was leaning against the wall next to the artists’ entrance, a huge smile on his face. He was wearing a suit, so he must have come from work. His hours were crazier than mine.

“I couldn’t wait to see you again,” he said. “I plan on becoming your new favorite stalker.”

“You know, you’re kind of crazy.”

“In a good way?”

I laughed. “Works for me!”

“Oh, that’s a relief. Look, I don’t know if you fancy it, but a friend texted me to say they’re all meeting up at
The Yard
.”

“I’m pretty tired . . .”

“It hasn’t got a late license, so they’re only open till midnight, but they serve food. Besides, you have to eat. Let me feed you, baby. And we have to celebrate your opening night. I would have come, but work . . . how’d it go?”

He raised his hand to stroke my cheek gently, dropping it when some of the musicians walked past, giving me a wave as their eyes skated over Seth.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

“I’m fine with you touching me, Seth,” I said, pulling on the lapels of his jacket and kissing the shit out of him.

I heard the theater door open a couple of times, but I ignored it.

When we pulled apart, he was grinning.

“Still sorry?” I asked him.

“Absolutely not. Best idea ever. I am a genius.”

“Are you going to get bigheaded?”

“Nope. My head is of perfect proportions, much like your arse.”

“You’re an ass man.”

“You noticed.”

We walked through the busy streets, people enjoying the warm summer night, sitting at tables drinking wine or sipping coffee. I love that about cities—you can feel companionship with strangers.

Or it can feel like the loneliest place on earth. Perspective is everything.

The Yard
was a non-descript building decorated with hanging baskets and arranged on three floors. But best of all, it had an outdoor area that was lit with tiny strings of lights, and had a chill vibe.

Seth waved at a small group of guys who were sitting around a wooden table with garden furniture.

“
Finally
, Mr. Wanker Banker!” said the one wearing jeans so tight they’d obviously cut off the blood supply to his brain.
What a tool.

Seth rolled his eyes at the dickhead.

“If that’s what you call working overtime,” said another, his eyes darting to me as he smiled at Seth, “you can count me in.”

He stood up and shook hands with Seth then gave him a quick hug.

“Guys, this is my friend Luka, and these losers are Edwin, Jeff, Chris and Julian.”

“You didn’t need to dress up for us,” sneered the one named Julian, eyeing my tired sweats and washed-out t-shirt.

I shrugged and scanned his crotch-crippling jeans and expensive leather jacket. “I didn’t know we were grading on a curve.”

The others laughed and Julian threw me an annoyed glance.

“Luka came straight from work.”

“Oh, please don’t say the word ‘straight’! It gives me hives.”

Seth groaned but didn’t answer. Then he passed me a menu and I decided on a club sandwich with fries.

Edwin whistled, his face a picture of jealousy.

“I wish I could eat like that and keep my figure. What’s your secret? Gym bunny?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Luka’s a dancer,” said Seth, pride in his voice.

“Oh? Like Sarah?” asked Edwin. “I adore your sister, Seth.”

“Yes,” answered Seth, his shoulders tightening a fraction at the mention of her name.

I kept quiet—if he didn’t want to talk about his sister, that was fine by me. I didn’t want another awkward evening.

“Yummy accent. Where are you from, Luka?”

We talked about Slovenia for a while. Although none of them had been there, they’d been to a lot of places in Europe that I knew or had worked in.

With the exception of Julian, I liked Seth’s friends. I tended to be cautious around new people, especially when I was dating a guy and . . .

The thought brought me to a halt. Is that what this was? Dating? I glanced across at Seth and he smiled at me happily, reaching out to put his arm around my shoulders.

Working in dance, or any creative area, people are more open about their sexuality and generally more accepting. But in the normal world, not so much.

And it was different for Seth, especially from what he’d said about his work, so I was careful with his friends and I followed his cues on how much touching was allowed. I thought about his small freak-out when he’d touched my cheek outside the theater. He was much more at ease with his gay friends.

I finished my food, sharing my fries with Seth. Everything was so easy with him. Just . . . right.

“Will you come home with me tonight?” he whispered into my neck.

“I really need to get some sleep,” I said, arching one eyebrow. “And you look trashed. You’ve been yawning for the last hour.”

He waved a hand. “I’ll have a lie-in on Saturday. Please, Luka. Don’t make me beg.”

“But I like it when you beg. A lot.”

“Fine. Pleeeeease come home with me tonight. Pleeeeeeeeeeeease.”

I laughed at how ridiculous he was being. And very cute. I couldn’t resist his pleading eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go home with you!”

Seth leaned back in his seat, looking very pleased with himself.

“That was easier than I expected.”

“Yeah, I’m totally hot to see Michael.”

Seth cocked his head to one side. “I was right about the ears, wasn’t I?”

“You are so fucking adorable,” I said, kissing him hard.

Then I laughed out loud, lighter and happier than I’d felt in years.

It seemed like a summer of possibilities, but I didn’t want to think what it would mean when the summer was over.

“DON’T TELL THEM
you’re bi.”

I stared at Seth, my forehead creasing in a frown as he cringed and looked away from my stunned expression.

He was hosting a dinner party on Monday evening, my day off, and had invited several of his friends. I got the impression that it was a big deal for him, although he hadn’t admitted as much.

I was still staring at him, wondering if I’d heard right.

“What? Why not?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet, watching me from the corner of his eye.

“They won’t understand.”

I could feel a hot burn of anger in the pit of my stomach.

“Seriously? At a dinner with gay guys, I have to hide my sexuality?”

Seth flushed, looking upset.

“Luka . . .”

“No.”

I said it quietly, but there was no doubt he heard me.

“Please.”

I blew out a calming breath, trying not to over-react, but I was pissed.

“I can’t believe that you’re asking me to do this, to lie to your friends. Fuck’s sake! You of all people know what that means.”