Smooth: The Sons of Victor Black: A BWWM Romance

by Cassie Verano

  Everything ceased to exist at the moment, except her and me. She was an elegant picture of art and beauty as she danced her solo. I was proud of her, the hard work and discipline she exerted through the years had brought her a long way. It had brought her to this moment on this stage.

  How had I not known she would be here tonight? What part of the conversation had I missed, where she revealed she would be dancing this solo at my mother’s birthday celebration? I wracked my brain but couldn’t recall one iota of that particular conversation.

  And when it all came to an end, painfully too soon, I was the first to stand, giving her an ovation—honoring her brilliance for how she honed her craft. Everyone in the hall was participating in the standing ovation, but I didn’t see them or even feel their presence pressed all around me. The only one I saw was the woman that stood on the stage, with those sad, puppy dog eyes gazing out lovingly onto her adoring crowd.

  I wondered if she noticed me, if she sensed my presence out there.

  “Wow, you seem to have come alive in the last half an hour,” Emma noted with a smirk as the applause died down, and we gathered our things to go.

  “No, that’s how he always acts at the end. His standing ovation was because it’s finally over,” Greyson commented drily.

  “It might have been more than that tonight,” my mother said knowingly with a brief smile of her own.

  “Come on; we’ll be late for our reservations. Our car is waiting out front,” my father said.

  Everyone hustled out behind him as I glanced back at the stage.

  “Grey and I’ll stay behind and give Madi a ride over to the restaurant,” Nicole spoke up.

  “No, need, sweetie. I’ve ordered a car for her, too,” my mother said.

  My heart throbbed wildly in my chest. Why hadn’t she mentioned any of this to me? The beautiful ballerina who would be joining us for dinner tonight was none other than my best friend, and Nicole’s little sister, Madison Cabot.

  It had been three long months since we’d spoken. She’d been avoiding my phone calls, and her text messages were brief if she responded at all.

  After our kiss at the wedding, she’d made it her business to stay as far away from me. And Nicole had aided in that little venture.

  “Um, if you don’t mind, I’d like to say hello. I’ll be right back,” I called, rushing away from Emma’s side.

  I had to speak with her privately before my family or her sister surrounded us.

  “Kent! Wait!” Emma called.

  I paused briefly and then turned back.

  “I’d like to get to the restaurant with your family right now,” Emma said. “Besides, I plan on calling it an early night because I have plans.”

  “I’m only going to be a minute,” I explained.

  “Please,” she said.

  Nodding my head, I turned to my mother. “Mom, if you don’t mind, you all can go ahead without me. I’ll be right there. Can Emma join you guys in the car, also?”

  My mother pressed her lips in a firm line of disapproval and gave a single nod of her head. “Of course, Emma is welcome to ride with us. Don’t take long, Kent.”

  I watched as my mother looped her arm through Emma’s, patted her hand, and they walked out of the theatre with the rest of the family.

  I quickly made my way backstage, pressing through the crowd of dancers and family who had gone back to see their loved ones. I hung around against the wall as I waited patiently. Half an hour passed before she emerged from her dressing room, her head bent, and a bag slung over her shoulder.

  “Mads,” I called out.

  Her head jerked up at the sound of her name. With wide eyes and lips parted, she gave me a hesitant, wary smile. “KB, what’re you doing here?” Madison asked, staring at me, nervously.

  I wondered why did she look uncomfortable. I’d never known her to be uneasy about anything in all the years we’d been friends. But I pushed the thought to the back of my mind to address another concern.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were performing tonight?”

  Her perfect sienna skin took on a deeper, more vibrant hue, and her lips turned up in a bashful smile, exposing that slight overbite. Dark brown eyes glazed, looking sheepishly away from me.

  “I don’t know. I’ve just been so busy.”

  “You knew my mom was coming, though, right?”

  “Uh, yeah, but...I guess I didn’t realize you’d be here, too.”

  I had never seen Madison perform before.

  “You were amazing on stage. I never knew.”

  “That’s because you never cared enough to come out and see me perform when you were in the city.”

  For a brief moment, the nervousness disappeared.

  “I cared,” I disputed.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I forgot it’s not ‘your thing.’”

  She glanced away from me, but I knew she wasn’t offended by the fact that it wasn’t my thing. It was something we’d joked about in the past.

  “Mads, about the wedding.”

  She slanted a harsh glance at me, the nervousness instantly reappearing. Shaking her head, she said, “It didn’t happen.”

  “Come on, Mads. I’m not telling anyone, but we have to talk about this. We can’t let that be a nonfactor for us. You and I go back, and we’re deeper than this. We used to talk every other day, and now I barely hear from you,” I complained.

  She shook her head. “I told you...I’ve been busy, Kent. I need to go.”

  I reached out and grasped the fingers of her right hand, lightly holding onto the tips. I was about to step closer when a voice interrupted us.

  “Madison! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” a blonde-haired guy wearing a blue suit and red tie stepped forward from another hallway.

  Wireless glasses framed curious blue eyes as he looked between Madison and me.

  “Oh, Steve. There you are. Steve, this is Kent Black, my uh...my friend, and my sister’s brother-in-law. And Kent, this is Steve Cross, my fiancé.”

  There was that nervousness again.

  Careful, Mads, you just might give yourself away, I thought.

  If he knew her the way I did, surely he would know something was up with her reaction. She was all off-kilter.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her in closer and kissed her lips. Then he turned to acknowledge me.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kent, finally. How’d you meet my girl?”

  This dude was an idiot. Didn’t he just hear her say I was her sister’s brother-in-law?

  “Family,” I replied solemnly, tucking my fists into my pockets.

  I noticed three things at once, like a punch to the gut.

  One, I didn’t like Steve.

  Two, I was crazy as hell about Madison.

  “You’re with the Black Hospitality Group, right?”

  I hated when people associated me with my father’s business as though I were a piece of his property. Not a human being with my own life. And I hated when assholes tried to kiss up to me, because of who they thought I was, or what I might be able to do for them.

  “No, I’m not with them. But, yes, that is my father’s company.”

  I turned my gaze back to Madison.

  “I’m heading over to the restaurant. Mom said she sent a car over for you.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “Yes, I know. Thanks. Um, are you riding with us?”

  “Ah, no. I drove here, so I’ll be driving to the restaurant.”

  “Well...I guess Steve and I will see you there,” she said, bestowing a relieved smile my way.

  I watched as they walked away, a strange feeling washing over me.

  And the third thing?

  I wouldn’t rest until she was mine.

  CHAPTER 5 – MADISON

  My body ached and sweat dripped from my face as I prepared to run through the routine one final time. It was etched in my mind and my limbs. Yet, I had to work twice as hard to p
rove this choreography was worthy of being performed.

  Although I was new to the Complexions Contemporary Ballet Group, I was already making great strides. But that didn’t mean everyone readily embraced me, nor my ideas with open arms.

  But it felt good being back home in the south after spending so many years in New York. I loved being close to my family and spending more time with them. And living in Atlanta afforded me that.

  “All right, ladies, one last time from the top,” I said, as I queued the music up again.

  An old classic, Tiny Dancer, by Elton John, performed by Lisa Harris poured through the speakers.

  Taking my position at the front of the room, I began to run through the routine once more with my dancers before they moved back. I closed my eyes as I launched into my solo, allowing the music to become one with my body, transforming every plié, arabesque, battement tendu, sauté, and pirouette, an extension of the musical note playing out from the computer.

  The rhythm I created with my arms, legs, and head was a symphony of its own. I moved through a series of pirouettes before my arms lightly lifted against the breeze coming through the window, before performing a grand jeté.

  When the dance ended, I grabbed my towel. I bent and turned off the music as everyone began to leave for the evening.

  Loud applause over the excited chatter of my dance mates drew my attention away from packing.

  “How did I miss this over the last couple of years?”

  I turned around, caught off guard by Kent’s long frame standing in the doorway.

  It wasn’t an altogether unwelcome surprise. Or it wouldn’t have been in the past, before that kiss.

  But the way he stood watching me with a lazy grin on his face as if the cat had just swallowed the canary had me swallowing over a lump in my throat.

  I couldn’t help but blush underneath his attentive gaze. It pained me the way I was so transparent about my feelings around him, but he was the only one that never noticed.

  Our friendship had always been easy going, since the day we met. I recalled those simpler times when we were paired to walk down the aisle together. The two of us had pulled practical jokes and participated in shenanigans all weekend long. We were the only two who found our jokes funny. That bond that weekend had led to us becoming inseparable in some ways ever since.

  Until the kiss.

  The ease with which we called each other up was gone.

  Dropping our plans to spend time together when we were in the same city, had always been a no-brainer. When I’d lived in New York, if he were in town, we made plans to spend time together. Or if I happened to be in Atlanta visiting my family, he’d drop all his plans to drive from Savannah to Atlanta to spend time with me. Whether we were catching a movie, attending a sporting event, grabbing a bite to eat at some hole in the wall, or chilling at a club, we got along remarkably well.

  Or rather we had.

  Kissing one another at the wedding had changed all of that; for me. The last month was strained, and it had been easy for me to ignore Kent’s calls and text messages. Because it was harder hearing his voice and reading his messages and not analyzing every pitch of his voice and every word he typed.

  They all made me wonder what he meant. And it was even harder to ignore my feelings now. Deep feelings for a man I couldn’t have because I was pledged to another, and because the man I wanted to be with was no good for me.

  Our friendship had worked because Kent understood the sacrifice, which my career as a ballerina required. The long, exhausting hours to the exclusion of all else never appeared to bother him. Whenever he was in town, he would make himself available to hang out with me in the late-night hours when everyone else headed for bed or home.

  I smiled nervously up at him now as he walked into the room and grabbed my bag from my shoulder.

  “You know how you missed it,” I said, looking up at him with a teasing grin.

  “I mean, yeah, I get it’s not my thing, but I’ve been so into everything you do. I know all the moves and the names by heart. I listen to your concerns and worries about your latest performance, but damn. How’d I never catch one?”

  I shrugged. “Look, man, you’re not usually around when I have a performance. It just so happens that the other night you were.”

  “I need to make it my business to be around to catch a few more,” he said offhandedly, grabbing my hand in his.

  Even something as simple as this drove me crazy now. We’d always held hands in the past, and it meant nothing at all. We were cool as shit.

  My face warmed at the thought of Kent, making time to catch my performances. I tried to ignore the heat growing through my body, as our fingers interlaced and hoped we could find our flow again. If he was willing to, then I was okay with that.

  Because anything less, I couldn’t accept it.

  “So, what’re you doing here tonight?” I asked as we walked out to the parking lot.

  “We didn’t get a chance to talk the other night. I mean, with everyone around and celebrating mom’s birthday and all. There wasn’t much time for you and me to hang. And then you were with old boy,” he said.

  “And you were with old girl,” I teased, laughing.

  He shook his head. “Emma’s...she’s not a thing. She’s one of those people my parents expect me to escort to those events. You know?”

  I nodded my head slowly. I knew what he meant. The Blacks had expectations for their sons about whom they were to marry. Nicole had shared with me the debacle that occurred over the most recent wedding in their family.

  Mr. Black wasn’t too fond of Alexandra Pena-Black, the most recent daughter-in-law. There was a bit of a strain on the relationship between the elder Black and his firstborn son, Grant.

  Luckily, my sister had eased into the family catching everyone off-guard. The elder Blacks had just been excited Greyson had found love again after his disastrous first marriage. They hadn’t made an issue of the fact my sister was not only African-American but not from their socioeconomic status.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, returning to the conversation at hand.

  “But she’s cool with it because Emma isn’t into me like that either. She’s got someone her family wouldn’t approve of, so we use each other when we need to,” he shared.

  “Use each other,” I muttered.

  “Yeah. So, that’s the clown you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with?” Kent asked, changing the subject.

  “Clown?” I asked, widening my eyes and punching him in the right shoulder.

  “Yeah, you heard me. I don’t see Steve as a good fit for you.”

  “Oh, and you would know who’s a good fit for me. Right?”

  “Exactly. I know your type,” Kent said, winking at me.

  “You know nothing of the sort.”

  Kent leaned against his car. Pearl grey with black leather interior, his Maserati Gran Turismo MC was his baby. He adored her more than anything else in the world, aside from his family. She was one of three land vehicles he owned. Two being sports cars and one was a motorcycle. Kent also had a helicopter.

  When I asked him why he shared that it was the best mode of transportation. Traveling from a photoshoot in NYC for his casual clothing line XClusive to a photoshoot in Florida for his watch line, Black Chrome in one day could be hectic.

  I dropped his hand as he crossed his legs at the ankle. Quickly I averted my eyes from the way his arms and chest bulged in the t-shirt he wore.

  Dancing in those arms, not to mention being held by those arms, while he was kissing me, had evoked lots of hot dreams. Not to mention, I was finding it hard to keep my eyes from dipping down to his crotch. Shit, why’d he have to cross his legs that way? His meat bulged in those jeans, and all I could think of was kneeling and biting it with my teeth.

  Fuck! I shook my head, ridding myself of those unfaithful thoughts. This was why I’d been avoiding him.

  Kent uncrossed his legs, lifted my hand in his aga
in, and pulled me into the V of his legs.

  “Mads, I miss you. I miss our friendship. Don’t kick me out.”

  His words pained me. What bothered me was looking into those beautiful light green eyes and seeing the sincerity resting there.

  “I need my friend back.”

  I smiled crookedly up at him. “I missed you too, man.”

  He blew out a breath and laughed.

  “Whew! Damn, it feels good to be off the chopping block.”

  “Chopping block, KB?”

  “Yeah, I thought I was getting the ax. You’ve been avoiding my calls. That’s not like you. No matter how busy you get, you’ve never avoided me. I admit I was wrong. I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

  “You’re right; you shouldn’t have,” I agreed.

  “Hey, you know I don’t trust anybody but you. I wanted to focus on building a world where I can have the one person who always has my back as the center of that world.”

  “KB...bullshit. I’ll call it every time,” I said as I shook my head.

  He smirked and winked at me again as I pulled my hand free from his. There was no reason I should be playing with fire.

  “So, what’re you about to get into?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Well, I was kinda hoping we could go grab a bite to eat and hang for a while.”

  “Sounds cool. How long are you in town?” I asked as he held the door for me.

  “A couple of days.”

  I waited until he went around the car and hopped in on the other side. “Then it’s back to the grind, right?”

  I saw something flicker in his eyes, and I couldn’t put a name to it. Working his jaw, Kent pulled his hand down his face.

  “Talk to me, Kent. What’s going on?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about doing something a bit different. Moving up here for a while to focus on a few things.”

  “Your condo project?”

  “Among other things.”

  “What’re the other things?” I prodded, as I turned on his system.

  Twenty-one pilots, Heathens, played softly in the background as a cover for our conversation.