by Tracey Ward
Colt nods to the black pen drive in the middle of the coffee table. “How many episodes did they send you?”
“The letter from the network said it’s all of last season and some highlights from the three seasons before.”
“Ah. Sutton’s run.”
“Is that how long she’s been on there?”
“Four seasons,” Colt replies knowledgably. Lilly, his fiancé, is a huge DNA fan, meaning Colt has had to become at least okay with it. “This is her fifth. I bet you anything the ‘highlights’ are all of her.”
I snort into my beer. One of the many I’ve stolen from him. “Double or nothing she put it together herself.”
“Is she full of herself?”
I glance over at Colt where he’s checking himself out in the mirror by the door. He’s adjusting his hair, fitting it perfectly into place with the kind of care most people would reserve for brain surgery. “Not as much as some people.”
“Fuck you,” he deadpans, not looking away from himself. “I’m pretty but I’m not dumb. I get what you’re saying.”
“A chimp could understand what I’m saying.”
“But does a chimp look this good in a suit?”
“You know they call it a ‘monkey suit’, right?”
“A chimp and a monkey are not the same thing, dumbass.”
“What the hell is the difference?”
He turns to me, giving me his full, undivided attention. “An ape doesn’t have a tail. A monkey does.”
“I thought we were talking about chimps.”
“Chimpanzees are apes.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “That can’t be right.”
“Look it up. We’re apes too.”
“That I believe.”
Colt shakes out his hand to check his watch. “Gotta go. Lilly will be off work soon and I want to surprise her before she leaves the bakery. Enjoy your show. It sucks.”
“Can’t you just tell me what happens so I don’t have to watch?”
“It’s not that kind of show,” he laughs, grabbing a garment bag off the arm of the couch. “And if Lilly made me suffer through it, you have to suffer through it too. Those are the rules.”
I gesture to the TV with disdain. “If she loves this show so much, why aren’t you doing it? I know they asked you.”
“Of course they asked me.”
“And?”
“You know Lil. She hates celebrity shit. The paparazzi will be all over your junk when you’re on this show, and she wouldn’t want anything to do with that. And I’m not looking to stay away from her for ten weeks to keep them off her back. We’ve got a wedding to plan. We don’t have time for that shit.”
“When is that going down?”
He shakes his head helplessly. “I don’t know, man. Every time I talk to her about it she freaks out. I think it’s overwhelming for her so I’m just trying to give her time. She knows I’m not going anywhere. I’ll marry her tonight or ten years from now.”
“You think she’s freaking because of her dad?” I ask carefully.
“Yeah,” he admits. “A lot of it is because of him.”
“That’s a tough situation. I’m sorry, man.”
“It is what it is, you know? We’ll get through it.”
I nod in understanding but it’s not without sympathy. Lilly’s family has it rough. Her dad has been sick for years. Going to the store can be stressful for them, so planning a wedding is turning into a nightmare when it should be fun and exciting. Colt has suggested more than once that they elope in Vegas, but Lilly wants a church wedding. She wants both of their family and friends there, but that brings her back to her dad, and that’s where everything falls apart for them. There’s no good solution. You can’t fix her dad and you can’t exclude him, so what do you do?
You enter into a holding pattern, apparently.
Five minutes later, Colt is gone and I’m alone with my desire to procrastinate. I look at the coffee table where my phone and the pen drive sit side by side. I’m tempted as hell to call someone, anyone, to get out of doing this. I’ve got a roster. I could call a girl and get laid, but I’m not in that kind of headspace. I’m not hard up, I’m just not interested in doing homework. I could call Sam and see what he’s doing. Maybe he’s out at the clubs or chillin’ in a bar. I could join him for a few drinks before coming back home to pass out with a good buzz and a better story than sitting here all night watching people get judged on their two-step.
The more I look at that drive, the less likely it seems like I’m doing this. And why should I? I’ll give it everything I’ve got once I’m in the studio learning from Sutton first hand, but what good is watching a bunch of videos going to do me? Sutton is obviously a Type-A personality. She’ll want to be in control of my education. I’m muddying the waters by watching anyone else. Ditching is doing her a favor. It’s not selfish. It’s altruistic.
It’s decided. I’m ditching. For Sutton’s sake.
My phone rings against my ear as I hurry down the steps away from the loft and my homework. The night is young. It’s barely seven o’clock. Sam shouldn’t be in for the night yet, and if he is, I’m dragging him out. We’re too young and way too sexy to be kept locked up inside tonight.
“I was just about to call you,” Sam laughs over the line. “How the hell do you do that?”
“It’s a superpower. What are you doing?”
“Nothing. You?”
“Nothing. What do you think? The club or the bar?”
“Dinner first. Beer second. I’m starving.”
“I can always eat.”
“Meet me at Beast Burger on Pacific?”
“See you in ten.”
I hang up as I unlock my bright red Jeep with a quick click of my keys. It’s lifted with fat tires meant to climb a mountainside or tear up a beach, because that’s what I do when I’m feeling frustrated. When the cement of this massive city is too dull to deal with and I miss Washington so much I can smell the rain. I can feel wet moss under my fingers and rich, dark earth under my toes. That’s when my Jeep and I make it to the closest piece of nowhere we can find and I lose hours with her.
I could do that tonight. There’s time. But Sam isn’t big on mudding and I’m not in the mood to be alone. I’m blowing off my responsibilities; I know that. I’m not dumb. I see it. I feel it. But it doesn’t stop me. It never has. Clint was at least partially right about me; I like to take the easy way. My path is the one of least resistance. I have a lot of experience taking shortcuts and it’s always worked out for me. I have no reason to think this is going to end up any different.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SUTTON
The Carousel
Los Angeles, CA
“This club is weird as hell!” I shout over the music blaring from every corner of the building. Bright lights in all the colors of the rainbow swirl in dizzying patterns over the black velvet curtains hung on the walls. In the center of the room is a giant carousel. It’s populated with wild colored animals smiling with big, human teeth that freak me out like I wouldn’t think possible. I can’t look away from them or the way they rotate slowly, rising up and down in a hypnotic dance completely out of time with the music.
Everything about this place is an offense to the senses, especially the smell – motor oil and sugary cocktails – but I seem to be the only one who minds. Everyone else is laughing and enjoying themselves. Clara is even riding one of the sheep with green eyes and purple boots on its hooves. She sips a neon drink through a crazy straw while she nods agreeably at whatever the low-budget Johnny Depp next to her is saying.
“I know!” Tina laughs loudly. “Isn’t it a gas?! I love it!”
“What do you love more? The bad music or the lazy Susan nightmare?”
“All of it!”
Tina is a bombshell. She’s tall and curvy with just the right amount of flirt in her smile. Everyone loves her, even the people who should hate her. People like me. She’s my biggest c
ompetition on the show. She has been for the last two years. I’ve tried to hate her but I can’t. She’s just too damn nice to hate with a clean conscience. Luckily, this season she’s been partnered with a football player without an ounce of rhythm so she’s not a big worry for me. She doesn’t care, though. She says he’s fun. She says she’s having fun getting to know him.
Tina is always having fun.
I can never be Tina.
“How’s the guy?!” she shouts to me across the low, glowing table.
I shake my head like I’m not sure because the truth is, I’m not. Shane is talented. He has more skill than I expected, but he’s also abrasive. I’m sure he’d say the same about me.
“He’s okay, I guess!” I answer vaguely.
“He’s hot!”
“I know!”
“I’ll trade you!”
I laugh at the hollow offer. “Not on your life!”
“Oh, keeping the hottie for yourself, huh?! That’s not like you, Sutton! Are you finally going to mix business with pleasure?!”
“No! Your guy has no rhythm! If he can’t get me a win, what do I want him for?!”
“Guys are good for more than winning!” Ana tells me slyly. “Didn’t your mom teach you that?!”
“My mom taught me everything about men! It’s why I try to avoid them!”
Kasian, a handsome dancer imported from Russia, leans in with a sad expression. “I have noticed this, solnyshko. It break my heart.”
I smile at him affectionately. Solnyshko is a Russian term of endearment that means ‘little sun’. He gave it to me when we first met and he ran his fingers through my golden hair. He told me I looked like sunlight and smelled like summer. If I didn’t know better, I probably would have succumbed to his charms a long time ago.
“I have to avoid you, Kaz,” I tell him. “You’d be the death of me. I can see it in your eyes.”
“And in your eyes, I see all of the heavens. It is beautiful.”
“That’s the scary thing about you. You’re a flatterer.”
“What is flatterer?”
“She means you’re a player!” Tina laughs over the rim of her glass.
Kasian nods in somber agreement. “Yes.”
Tina and I giggle at his arrogance. Kasian and I are a lot alike. We’re both blunt. Both proud. Impatient. Passionate. Driven. Aggressive in our desires and stubborn when presented with anything we don’t like. He’s comforting to have around, but this season we’ll be missing him. With all men on the celebrity side, we’ve been forced to recruit some women from the chorus to replace the men we don’t need. It’s made things tenser than ever behind the scenes. Not only are we competing against each other, now we’re competing against newcomers too. Outsiders. I don’t like it, but then I don’t like change.
Kasian stands suddenly. He offers me his hand and a toothy grin. “This is good song. Will you dance with me, Sutton?”
I smile at his broken English and delicate hand. “I’m feeling a little off tonight. Will you go easy on me?”
“Never.”
He gently pulls me to my feet. Tina slaps me playfully on the ass, making me yelp in surprise. I giggle as I lean in close to Kasian’s side, following him willingly to the dance floor.
With the giant carousel in the middle of the club, the only places to dance are on its peripheral. The space is narrow and packed with bodies, forcing Kasian and I close together. The song is slow. The lights are dim and Kaz smells divine. When he puts his long arms loosely around my waist, I feel myself relax. This club is insane and annoying, but Kaz is familiar. Dancing is like breathing. The two together are so easy and comfortable, I feel like I could fall asleep right here in his arms. I’m exhausted for so many reasons, but dancing has always been a break from life. It’s a chance to catch my breath when things are moving too fast to comprehend. That’s what it feels like now; like I’m breathing. Like the wild dogs nipping at my heels have fallen away and all I can hear is the sound of the music and the beat of my heart finding time with it.
“You will miss me this season,” Kasian tells me lightly.
I smile. “You’ll still be around. You’ll be in the group numbers.”
“It will not be the same.”
“No. It won’t. I’ve never done a season with only women pros.”
“No one has. It is strange.”
“It is very strange.”
“You have met your partner?”
“I have. I met him yesterday.”
“He is big?”
“Yes,” I laugh at the understatement. “Yes, he is very big. Too big.”
“You are small. All men feel too large to you.”
“Not you, Kaz. You’re perfect.”
“Yes.”
I chuckle as he turns me, dipping me down until my long hair touches the floor. He snaps me back up again so that my arms go around his neck tightly, pressing our bodies closer together. We move slowly with the music. I’m sure from the outside it looks sensual. Like we’re a couple wrapped up in each other, but that’s the outside. That’s what people who don’t do this professionally are programmed to think. Closeness = intimacy. But they’re wrong. So wrong. I’ve danced a hundred times with men I couldn’t care less about, and even though I adore Kaz, there’s nothing sexual about the way he’s holding me. His hand hovers just above my ass but I trust that he won’t drop it down any lower because I don’t want him to. He knows that. He respects that. That’s what dancing requires – respect. Trust. Faith. It takes time to earn it. It takes only a moment to lose it.
The song changes, turning to something more upbeat. It’s in Spanish. Kasian immediately dives us straight into it. He’s chosen the Samba. A dance like that with a man like Kasian takes skill. You have to keep up with his energy, matching his pace as he spins you around and around, nearly tossing you away before snapping you back. It’s not a beginner’s dance.
Luckily, I am no beginner.
“Oh, we’re doing this?” I laugh at him as he paces around me with rapidly snapping feet.
“Yes, solnyshko. We do this.”
I smile as I tie up my long rays of sunlight in a ponytail. “Alright, Kazy. Let’s show ‘em how it’s done.”
I rise up on my toes as I offer him my hand because on my toes is the only way I’ll survive this dance with him. He twirls me in close, running his hands slowly down the sides of my body before launching me away. This dance is a lot of hips, ass, and sass, so that’s what we give.
Everything.
I leave everything on the floor, no matter where it is. A stage on Broadway. A studio on the KBC lot. A dancefloor in a wild club in the middle of downtown L.A. Dancing is therapy and I don’t care where I attend it.
We’re about halfway through the song when I notice we’ve gathered an audience. It’s not a surprise. We’re pros in a sea of amateurs grinding against each other clumsily. When Kasian spins me so quickly the thin, pink skirt on my dress rises up to my hips to expose my underwear, the crowd cheers loudly. Someone wolf whistles like an animal, but I’m smiling as I come back around to face Kaz.
Kasian dips me low, bending me over his leg in a move that could snap the back of a woman without my flexibility. I hang there, breathing heavily as the crowd applauds us. That sound soothes the burns life has left on my soul. I feel calm as I listen to them. As I drink them in more deeply than the shots Tina has tried to get inside me. Alcohol has never been my friend. Adoration – that’s my drug of choice. This is my high.
When Kasian brings me back to stand with him, he kisses me quickly. It’s on the mouth and it’s firm. It garners us more applause that he disappears into as soon as he releases me. The crowd swallows him, leaving me alone and breathless.
But not for long.
“That was incredible,” Shane’s voice rumbles deeply from behind me.
I spin around to find him looming over me. Even in my heels, he’s so much taller than me it’s unnerving. His chest is all I can see. His
cologne is all I can smell. He floods my senses in a way that sends me back a step to find myself again.
“What are you doing here?” I demand without thinking. It’s a free country. He can be anywhere he wants, but it’s thrown me that he’s here.
I don’t like surprises.
He chuckles, lowering his head so I can hear him better. “I’m getting an education in just how in over my head I am. You and that guy are amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No thanks.”
Shane hesitates before chuckling. “You’re funny, Sutton. I didn’t peg you for funny.”
“And I didn’t peg you for a guy who would go to a gay bar.”
“Is this a gay bar?” he asks in amazement.
“It’s called the Carousel and there’s a guy dressed as Rainbow Bright serving drinks,” I answer without inflection. “Yes, Shane. This is a gay bar.”
He laughs into his fist. “No shit. That’s hilarious.”
“How did you not notice?”
“I don’t know. I just figured it was kinda wild. I’ve seen a lot of dudes but I’ve seen a lot of women too.”
“You’ve seen a lot of lesbians.”
Shane smiles down at me. “Not all of them are lesbians.”
“How do you know I’m not here with my girlfriend?”
“Are you?”
“Maybe.”
