Chapter Thirty-Three
Stone
“Under the spotlight, all the girls wanna fall in line.”
Standing in the wings of Cypress Performing Arts Center while Cameron’s crew performed their samba routine, I snuck a peek at the rows of cushioned seats beyond the curtain. Instantly, I regretted it. The place was packed. While a sold-out auditorium meant money for Ilusiòn, and with any luck, an influx of students, on a personal level? Total nightmare.
The huge stage left nowhere to hide. An array of blinding spotlights made sure of that. This wasn’t Homecoming. There was no crowd to get lost in once I took the stage. Soon, the entire town, whether from their comfy in-house seats or virtually at home through social media, would know their quarterback was, in fact, a secret Twinkle Toes.
It didn’t take a genius to guess what this week’s drive-time gossip would be. For their sake, I hoped the DJs would at least be creative.
My gaze drifted across the tiered seating. Shadowed faces, some I recognized, others I didn’t, swept by in a nauseating rush. In the first row, front and center, were the phys ed teachers for Cypress Elementary, Cypress Junior High, and Brighton High. I’d met with each of them over the last two weeks, armed with research and data from schools who’d implemented successful ballroom dance units into their programs. If all went right today, they’d be announcing plans for similar units in our own schools, taught by Ilusiòn instructors.
When I reached the fourth row, the tips of my ears flushed red. Holy hell. Coach hadn’t been messing with me. He was actually here—and he’d brought what appeared to be half the team with him. Awesome.
“There!” Angéla’s finger shot across my vision. I jerked back, having been almost punched in the face, and my sister rolled her eyes. “I told you she was here.”
“Lily?”
She nodded with a smug smile, and I whipped my head around to follow where she’d pointed.
About three-quarters of the way down the second row, Mr. Bailey sat with his face buried in one of Ma’s programs. Next to him were two empty seats.
My hand fisted in the curtain. When she’d texted Angéla last night, I’d immediately grabbed my phone, too, hoping she’d responded. I wasn’t sure how many texts or calls it took to be a stalker, but I was damn close. I didn’t care. Stopping meant giving up, or worse, letting Lily think I’d given up, and neither was an option. When I’d discovered my messages unanswered and unread, I won’t lie, it crushed me. But I dusted myself off and focused on today. If Lily was dancing, so was I.
“Doesn’t mean she’ll give me a second chance,” I murmured, glancing at Angéla.
Even so, it was a shot of adrenaline.
Ideally, Lily would’ve come backstage from the start, rather than sit in the theater for most of the showcase. We could’ve talked and cleared the air before our performance. But I could be patient. What I couldn’t do was let her walk away again. Not without hearing me out.
Chase clapped me on the back. “Dude, you made a mistake, but you love the girl. You didn’t set out to hurt her. Make her see that.” He squeezed my shoulder, shoving me forward. “Fight for her, man.”
“I’m planning on it,” I said, knocking away his hand. I straightened my shirt, then messed with the buttons on my sleeves. “I just have to figure out how.”
“Guys are useless,” Angéla muttered under her breath, then looped her arm through mine. Tugging me farther into the wings, she said, “Clearly, this situation calls for an epic gesture. You need to sweep Lily off her feet. Seriously, have neither of you watched a rom-com?”
Backstage was a madhouse of costumed dancers, eager instructors, and a few family friends dressed in black who were helping as part of the crew. Chase ducked around Marcus and exaggerated a groan. “Angel, this might come as a shock, but not every situation can be solved by a movie reference.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” She spun to face us and folded her arms with a smug little smile. “Seventeen years of data prove otherwise. It’s simply a matter of finding the right one.”
Narrowing her eyes, her foot tapped out a rhythm as she scrolled through her extensive mental collection of movie titles. Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose, while Chase shook his head. Roughly thirty seconds later, my sister snapped her fingers. “I got it! Dirty Dancing!”
Chase gave her serious side-eye, and I threw my hand in the air. “Uh, isn’t that the one where the minister bans music? What do you want me to do, throw the town a prom?”
“Ohmigod, how did we share a womb?” Angéla smacked a hand to her forehead. “That’s Footloose, dumbass,” she informed me through gritted teeth. “Dirty Dancing is with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. You know, the one where Patrick says, ‘nobody puts Baby in a corner’?”
She lifted her eyebrows and looked at me expectantly, but while I vaguely remembered the line and parts of the plot, I still didn’t see where she was going with it. Mr. Bailey and I were on the same page now. He didn’t hate me, there was no watermelon, and people weren’t even sitting at tables out there.
“Seriously, useless,” she muttered again. “Okay, follow me here. At the end of the movie, Patrick’s character jumps onstage, grabs a mic, and tells everyone how he feels about her.” She glanced between us, circling her hands in the air, like she was waiting for me to extol her awesomeness. “It’s perfect.”
I blinked at my sister, then hoofed it back to the curtain and made a stabbing motion at the packed house. “Have you seen how many people are out there? Your plan has her potentially rejecting me in front of the entire town.”
And she wondered how we’d shared a womb.
Glancing back out at the crowd, I’d have wagered 50 percent already had their phones out. The second I walked on stage, that number would jump to a hundred. I wasn’t being arrogant, either. People came today thanks to the drama from Cameron’s stunt, and pouring my heart out à la Patrick Swayze would only feed the beast. Especially if Lily rejected me.
This wouldn’t be like Cameron’s betrayal last spring. Our relationship had been nothing but lust and ego. Sure, my pride had taken a hit, but in the end, that’s all it was. I was in love with Lily. If she shot me down, I’d be devastated.
With a slow shake of my head, I turned away from the audience.
Chase and Angéla exchanged a look, then he asked, “Is she worth it?”
My response was immediate. “You know she is.”
Angéla started eagerly bouncing on her toes, and I released a sigh. As annoying as my sister could be, she was a girl, which meant she understood a hell of a lot better than I did what other girls liked. If there was even a chance this could work—that Lily would take me back—it meant I had to try.
My shoulders slumped, and I laughed softly as I gave in to the inevitable. Angéla clapped her hands excitedly.
“Good,” Chase said, rocking back on his heels. “Because she’s here.”
Smiling, he looked to his right and lifted his chin in greeting, then thumped my shoulder before heading onstage to introduce the next routine. I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and stared at the scuffed ground, psyching myself up to face her.
For forty-eight hours, all I’d wanted was for us to breathe the same air. I’d wanted to lose myself in Lily’s blue eyes and tell her I loved her. Now that I could, nerves were locking down my muscles and fear was spiking my blood. My jaw flexed in time with the music.
Drawing in a deep, calming breath, I turned around prepared to grovel—and exhaled in an explosive rush. “Damn.”
Lily always looked incredible. Jeans, snarky-ass tees, crazy skirts, or purple sassy underwear, I’d take her any way I could have her. But put her in a dress, and the girl absolutely slayed me. Every time.
The scarlet dress was sleeveless and had a deep, plunging neckline, leaving the pale skin of her throat exposed. The fit was tight, molding to the curve of her hips, and loose tendrils of flashy red sequins skimmed across her thighs as she hesitantly walk
ed toward me, her teeth biting into her plump lower lip. Between the short hem and nude dance heels, her legs looked endless, and it was a toss-up what I wanted to do more—drag her back to my truck or show her off as mine. The wary look in her eyes said neither would be accepted.
“This was Ma’s?” I asked Angéla roughly, conflicted over my body’s reaction.
My sister snorted. “Relax, Romeo. She never wore it.”
Thank God.
Shoving my hands in the pockets of my dance slacks, banking on it keeping me from pulling Lily into my arms, I covered the distance between us. Sydney, who’d walked in with her, frowned.
Turning to Lily, she asked, “Want me to stay?”
She shook her head with a small smile. “Nah, go sit with Dad. He’ll probably need you to hold his hand. I think he’s nervous enough for the both of us.”
Sydney carefully put her arms around Lily’s neck, dodging the artful mess of curls piled on her head, and gave her a hug. “Break a leg, Lil. And make sure those shoes are buckled tight.”
Laughing, Lily shoved her away, and Sydney blew an air-kiss. Then, with a smile for Angéla and conflicted grimace for me, she waltzed back down the darkened hallway leading to the auditorium. Lily twisted back to face us, her fingertips fidgeting with a row of sequins.
I cleared my throat. “You look amazing.”
Her sweet smile seemed pained as she said, “Thanks. You do, too.”
Those pretty eyes swept over the outfit I’d eventually approved of—black dance slacks and a black, long-sleeved button-down with the top two undone. When Lily’s gaze paused on the exposed skin at my throat, a slight blush brightened her cheeks.
My lips twitched, but I withheld a gloating smile. Inwardly, though, I did a fist pump.
Marcus walked up and smiled broadly at Lily. “You look great, kid.” While she ducked her head, smiling awkwardly at the compliment, he consulted his clipboard. “Okay, you two are up next. Once Mary and Dale finish their waltz and Chase does his thing, Viktória wants to say a few words, so she’ll be the one to introduce you. The two of you will close us out.”
As Lily began sharing the raving comments she’d overheard in the audience during the show, I tuned in to the music pouring from the stage. Mrs. Mary and her husband were dancing to “Come Away with Me” by Norah Jones, and they’d just entered the soft instrumental section near the end.
We only had about a minute left to talk.
How could I win her back in sixty seconds? How could I possibly make her understand how much she meant to me—how sorry I was—in less than a commercial break? And how could I even try with Marcus hoarding in on my precious time?
Frustrated, I opened my mouth to urge him along when another crew member called his name.
“Better take care of that,” he muttered, looking suddenly harried. “Good luck, guys.”
While Lily mumbled her thanks, I quickly reached for her hand. Shockingly, she let me take it, and a cautious spark of optimism rippled through me. A spark that grew into an inferno when her right hand closed around the pendant at her throat.
She was wearing my necklace again. That had to mean something. Right?
Raising my eyes, I solemnly asked, “Are we okay?”
Lily’s gaze darted over my face. “Yeah, Stone, we’re good.”
Relief hit fast and hard, and my heart started to race. Other than that she loved me, it was all I wanted to hear, and I was tempted to tug her against me and never let go. However, I sensed a but coming.
She looked away, but not before I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes. “We’re good as dance partners,” she clarified, and any hope I’d built overnight shattered like Ma’s old china.
Out in the auditorium, the crowd cheered, and Mrs. Mary and Mr. Dale jogged past in a blur of elated smiles and muted squeals. As Chase went out to vamp, Ma skipped over to where we stood, Lily wincing at the ground, and me unable to look away from her face, afraid we’d never be this close again.
“Ah, Lily, you look ravishing in red. Like an enchanting rosebud—or maybe a spicy pepper, eh?” Ma wiggled her eyebrows, not picking up on the tension between us…or ignoring it completely. “Everybody ready?”
Lily forced a tight smile, and I nodded distractedly, wishing I could slow down time. Ma headed for the stage, and as I watched her go, Angéla stepped in my sightline with a hand on her hip and a fiery expression. Epic, she mouthed.
I swallowed. “Ma, wait!” Dropping Lily’s hand, I turned to where my mom had stopped in the wings. “You think I can take the mic for a second?”
A look of curiosity crossed my mother’s face, but as always, I had her full support. “Of course, love. They would love to hear from you. Most are here for you two anyway,” she said with a teasing smile. “Just let me introduce you.”
The dying applause from Chase’s antics swelled again as Ma glided across the stage. Lily tilted her head, watching me from beneath her eyelashes. I huffed a laugh as she pursed her lips.
Yeah, good luck guessing what I’m up to, Red. I can’t believe it myself.
“Such lovely friends here today,” Ma said warmly, her voice carrying through the room. “We at Ilusiòn are so grateful you have chosen to spend your morning with us. It is a joy and a privilege to share dance with the community that I love. Before I release you to the delicious hors d’oeuvres and desserts The Baking Room has so generously provided, we’re excited to show you one last routine. This couple is very special to me—I think to many of you, too—and one of them wishes to speak before they perform. As I’m not above a little nepotism, I agreed!”
Ma laughed joyously, and the crowd joined in, the rise of excited murmurs implying several had snuck a peek at their programs. An assumption confirmed when she said, “Won’t you please join me in welcoming the lovely Lily Bailey and her partner, my son, Ágoston ‘Stone’ Torres!”
Whistles, claps, and even a few catcalls—definitely from my teammates—erupted beyond the curtain, and with a tight smile I held out my hand, hoping Lily would take it. When her palm slid against mine, the pressure in my chest eased a fraction. I started leading her to the stage, but when we reached my sister, Lily tugged back on my hand.
“Wait.” Biting her lip, and with a quick glance toward the beckoning stage, she slipped off her glasses and handed them to Angéla. She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t hurt, right?”
I gave her a small smile, then continued forward, eventually leaving her where the spotlight wasn’t focused.
Here went nothing.
Or, well, everything.
Projecting confidence I didn’t feel, I strolled to my mother and accepted the mic with a quick kiss to her cheek. Ma beamed at me before stepping back.
Damn. The audience had multiplied during the short walk from backstage. Though I knew that wasn’t possible, my anxiety didn’t care. Swallowing hard, I glanced to where Chase and Angéla were standing in the wings. My best friend nodded in solidarity, then slid his arm around my sister’s shoulder. A look of surprise—and something else—washed over her face before it went carefully blank, and she sent me a thumbs-up.
“Most of you are probably surprised I’m up here.” The spotlight centered on me, and I squinted in response. Thanks, Dad. “You’re used to me wearing cleats, not dance shoes.” I kicked up a foot, and as everyone chuckled, I forced my shoulders to relax. Focusing on the control booth, I imagined I was speaking to an empty room. “For those of you who didn’t catch it, my mom owns Ilusiòn. Over the last thirteen years, she’s done a lot for this town. The studio has provided space for several school dances, her students have entertained you at countless festivals, and hundreds of you have walked through her door for lessons.”
The side curtain rustled, and I peeked over to see Ma standing next to Angéla. Looking at her, I said, “Dance has the power to change your life. It gives confidence, and through it, you learn teamwork, focus, and discipline. It’s also a great way to stay fit. Tons of athletes include dance in thei
r training, right along with weightlifting and cardio, because it adds flexibility and coordination. Personally, I can attest it relieves tension before and after an intense game.”
Ma clasped her hands against her chest, her eyes soft and grateful. I smiled, then turned my attention to Lily. “Dance also introduced me to someone incredibly special.”
Although she was still in shadow, I felt her surprise. I held a long, nerve-wracking breath, praying like hell I wasn’t about to make this worse, then exhaled into the mic.
“I’ve accomplished a lot in my life. Most of you have witnessed it. But for the first time ever, I’m standing in front of you scared to death—and not just because I hate public speaking, either.” While people laughed in support, my gaze, now adjusted to the bright lights, skimmed across the second row. Mr. Bailey and Sydney were leaning forward, lips parted and eyes wide. “I’m scared because I screwed up. I hurt someone I care about, and while it feels like I’m standing up here naked right now, she needs to hear my apology. And she deserves to hear it in front of all of you.”
Sydney’s mouth twitched in an approving smile, the equivalent of a three-minute cheer for her. My confidence grew, and my frantic grip on the mic eased.
“Over the last six weeks, Lily Bailey has taught me a lot, which is funny, because I was supposed to be teaching her. See, we had this deal…a dare, really. She’d take a few lessons, and I’d show her how to live in the moment. Instead, she taught me to stop fearing the future.”
Somewhere, a phone rang. An agitated chorus of shhh! rang out, and I laughed, a soft chuckle of breath, as it was quickly silenced. Turning back to my partner, I watched as Lily raised her fingers to her lips, her beautiful eyes full of wonder.
“The future scared me because I didn’t have the answers yet. To tell you the truth, I still don’t. But I was so afraid of one day failing, letting down all of you, that I gave up on dreaming. I set my life on cruise control and went through the motions. But Lily…she saw right through me.”
Glancing back at the spellbound audience, I had a feeling my speech was taking longer than Ma had expected, but thankfully, I was almost done. Just a bit more groveling to do.
Eyes on Me Page 30
