by Taylor Hart
Addison rushed to her phone, seeing a bunch of missed texts from Christian. “Okay.”
“But what about the talent showcase tonight?” asked Mr. Baxter. “Who will be in charge?”
Other students shuffled into the dance studio.
“Don’t worry,” Addison said, turning to Boston. “I’ll figure it out.” The trouble was that she wasn’t even sure about the music for all the classes and all the dances.
Out of the blue, Cyree rushed into the studio. “Addison,” she breathed.
Addison nodded. “It’s okay; I can cover for Christian.” Three seasons on national television had prepared her to coordinate the dance numbers tonight.
Cyree snapped her fingers. “Just what I was about to ask you.” She smiled. “But can you also emcee the showcase tonight and give a speech after the dancing? Christian was supposed to do that, too.”
Speech, sure. Emcee the resort-wide showcase? Why had going solo ever sounded like a good idea to her?
The students crowded around, watching and waiting for an answer. Addison felt like she was at the bottom of an avalanche that was slowly closing over her.
Boston took her hand. “I’ll help her. We’ll take care of it.”
Addison knew she was gazing at him like his biggest fan, and if she had a Team Brady shirt, she’d be wearing it proudly right now.
Chapter 15
The showcase turned out to be way bigger than Boston had imagined. A couple hundred people—pretty much every current resident, and plenty of guests—gathered in The Palm’s auditorium.
Cyree and Devon welcomed everyone and then showed the videos of the different lessons that had been going on: surfing, tennis, sand castle building, cooking, and so many things Boston couldn’t believe it. Boston and Addison sat in the front corner with Ty and Luna. Boston had met her once, but he’d slacked off on going to appointments with Ty; Ty hadn’t wanted him to go, and Boston was sufficiently distracted by Addison. It only took seeing them together for about five seconds to see that they had more going on with each other than the friend zone Boston was living in.
When the videos were almost over, Boston and Addison snuck backstage. Cyree called out the emcee for the dancing portion of the evening, Addison Adair.
“Team Adair,” said Boston, giving her a nod as she left the wings to take the microphone. She wore a tight red dress with flattering layers of aqua green. It gave her a sharp look and made her shine like the star she was. She looked every bit the face of Dancing with the Stars.
He’d never seen her look so lovely. Well, except for when she threw her hair back, laughing at the beach. There was also the beauty he’d seen hours into a difficult rehearsal when a smile split her face and she pumped her arms after they nailed a complex move. It didn’t matter if she was stage ready or run-on-the-beach ready; Boston was smitten by this beauty.
After talking for a minute about how proud she was of all the dancers and how much work had gone into their preparations for the night, she gracefully walked offstage. The second she was out of the audience’s view, she grabbed her clipboard from Boston and started directing traffic to make sure the right class went onstage.
Each class performed, with Addison going back and forth between a calm, smiling emcee and a frantic organizer behind the scenes. Boston helped as much as he could, but the woman was a force of nature and she ran everything like a pro.
All the dance classes performed. It was interesting to watch the assorted dances that Boston had no idea were even being taught, including belly dancing and modern dance.
Boston’s class was last, and he wished them all good luck as they took the stage. Then he and Addison snuck to their seats to watch.
Ty and Mrs. Baxter were the most entertaining couple onstage. The funniest part of the whole performance was when Mr. Baxter would glare at Ty every time they danced past him.
Luna didn’t take her eyes off of Ty; her face practically glowed. Boston didn’t miss Ty’s glances at her every chance he could get, and even one wink when he was in the front corner of the stage. It made Boston worry about how that might all turn out, but he didn’t have long to stress: their number ended, and he had to hurry backstage with Addison again.
With poise that didn’t even give a hint of all the behind-the-scenes activity, Addison walked to the mic again. “Thank you all for your amazing performances tonight.” She pointed to all the dancers in the first few rows. “How about another round of applause for our dancers?”
The audience responded with clapping and hooting.
“And I loved all the videos that showcased all your talents tonight!” she added, prompting a round of applause and whistles.
The woman was born for the stage, Boston thought. What a difference from his ex, who had always been trying to get onstage, but it was so contrived. It made him squirm now, thinking of how it had been with Lana.
“I’d like to thank Shelly—she has mad backstage skills. Everyone give her a round of applause.”
More clapping.
“And I’d like to take a special moment to thank the guy who …” She hesitated, and her breath caught.
Boston saw the emotion on her face, and it sparked something inside of him.
“I’d like to thank a guy who stepped up to fill in. Truth be told, the guy has stepped up a lot to help me, personally.” Her eyes met his. “Boston Brady, ladies and gentlemen. He is a lifesaver!”
He stepped onto the stage and waved.
“There is one more performance tonight, ladies and gentlemen. While I am a professional, my partner didn’t know the first step of this dance when he arrived here a couple weeks ago.”
Wait, did that mean …?
She clapped, and the whole room erupted into clapping. Some of the people started chanting, “Surf! Surf! Surf!”
“Front and center, Brady. It’s time for rehearsal.”
He was shocked. He hadn’t expected to perform their dance in the showcase tonight.
“Boston! Boston! Boston!” Ty stood and rallied the crowd.
Boston walked toward the center of the stage. His heart raced and he thought he might be sweating as much as he did before a game.
Addison flashed him a smile. “We need to practice in front of a crowd.”
“You could have warned me.”
She winked at him. “I thought you were born ready?”
He chuckled as they took front and center of the stage and posed.
The music started. Addison’s face was intense, professional; then her lips quirked. “Show off your stuff, football player.”
Their first dance, the merengue, was always intense, but it just might be his favorite dance now. She kicked up, and he ran his hand smoothly down her leg. Then the prance across the floor began. The audience let out whoops, and he grinned, loving the tension he felt between him and Addison. He knew the audience was feeling it, too. It was like fourth and goal at the two-yard line, and it was intoxicating.
Addison was all show and all professional, and she pushed him just as she pushed herself. The meringue gave way to the quick but flowing Viennese waltz, and Addison became a queen in his arms. Leading her around the dance floor was like a dream he didn’t want to end.
The music changed to the cha-cha, and the crowd cheered as they let loose. By the end, Boston felt amazing. They’d never performed it better, and if there was a time for the Pamchenko, it was now, after a nearly flawless performance, and in front of a crowd who was eating this up.
When it came time for Addison to run to the other side of the stage in order to build up speed for the lift, she swung around behind him, and they finished with a straightforward lift where he basically shoulder-pressed her, raising her over his head. It ended with a flip that brought her down in front of him, landing with her in the splits, his hands under her arms.
They nailed it.
The whole place jumped to their feet in applause, and it was silly and stupid and crazy, but he was just as happy at thi
s moment as he was when he busted into the end zone in a big game.
Boston pulled her up and held Addison to him, holding a close ending pose longer than needed.
“You were great,” Addison said, a bit breathlessly.
He wanted so much more than friendship with her. It was all he could do to not take her face in his hands and kiss her. “You were better.”
The applause got louder, and he began to pull back.
“Boston?”
He kept her close. “Yes?”
“I just have one question for you.”
“What’s that?” he asked, not caring that everyone was looking at him. He never wanted this moment to end.
“Can we end the friend zone?”
Fire burned through him. “What about—” He cut himself off; there was no reason to give her any excuses. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He closed his eyes and kissed her. Her lips were soft and accepting, joining with his and pouring gasoline on the fire he’d been feeling for her, sending his head soaring into the clouds. He wrapped her up and lifted her off her feet so she could fly with him as he continued to kiss her.
And even though he wasn’t capturing the moment for Instagram or Facebook, he knew this moment would stay with him the rest of his life.
The crowd was still clapping wildly and now hooting for them as well.
It dawned on him—he loved her. He’d fallen for Addison Adair in a way he’d never fallen for another woman in his whole life.
She giggled. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” He grinned and kissed her again. Finally, he led her offstage as the rest of the room stood and began mingling.
As soon as they were offstage, he stole another kiss, savoring her sweet lips for only a second.
She giggled again, holding to him.
“What happened to not dating the guests?” he asked.
Addison shrugged. “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission. And if they fire me, I know someone who will pay me twice as much.” The mischievous glint in her eye made his heart melt for her all over again.
This true love thing was making him smile wider than he ever remembered. He loved her so much. This glorious, redheaded woman had become so much more to him than just a friend.
She’d become everything.
Chapter 16
Addison sat on the beach next to Boston, their hands interlaced, their feet licked by waves. It was after midnight, but she was still riding the high. “It was so great,” she said again, scooting into him.
He put his arm around her, dripping water all over her, but what did she care? They were sitting on the most perfect beach, and they had it to themselves. No, she wouldn’t complain about him dripping. She wouldn’t complain about the kiss they’d shared onstage, or the public statement that she’d made about their relationship. She couldn’t believe it.
Pressing his lips to her forehead, he murmured, “Wild night tonight.”
They had laughed and partied with the class afterwards, going to the Baxters’ house and having pie. Then they’d gone to his place and changed into their swimsuits.
Now, they sat halfway in, halfway out of the ocean. They had flirted and hugged and even kissed a couple more times. But they hadn’t talked about what was really going on.
She turned and met his eyes. “I loved tonight. I hope the real performance is just as good.”
The side of his lip tugged up. “Wait a sec. Are we talking about the dancing, or the kissing?” Then he quickly leaned in and kissed her.
Instead of pulling back, she held her lips to his. Somehow his kisses were even more electrifying than dancing with him.
Boston turned her, held her closer, and deepened the kiss. Fire burned through her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His solid chest against her sparked crazy thoughts that she hadn’t had in a long, long time.
She couldn’t get enough of the man. She wasn’t sure how long they kissed, but when they separated, they were both out of breath.
He put his forehead to hers. “Let’s slow it up a bit, Adair.”
Addison’s heart raced, and she laughed. “Yes, good idea.”
For a while, they just stayed like that, forehead to forehead, pulling in big breaths.
She’d learned so much about this man over the past week. He cared deeply for his family. He found such joy in learning the skills of the dance and getting them right.
“I want to do this right with you. I want it to be real.”
Her stomach erupted with flutters, sending goose bumps down her arms. That word just stuck in her head. Real.
Was she ready for real yet?
Carefully, she said, “I don’t know what I can do. I mean, I’m confused, because I’m pretty sure I know what I’m feeling, but I don’t know if … if I’m ready for that.”
“Okay.” Boston took in a breath and reached down to take her hands. “Then I’ll just chillax, as Ty says.”
She leaned into his arms. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, unable to explain that even though she wanted to be here, with Boston, she still wasn’t ready to dive deep yet.
“Shh,” he whispered in her ear, holding her close. “I’ll wait, Ads. I’ll wait as long as you need me too.”
Sitting in his arms, bathed in moonlight, Addison knew that if she would ever be ready for more again, it would be with this man.
Boston stood, tugging her to her feet as well. “Then let’s get you home and to bed, and let’s just take it slow this week.”
Chapter 17
Addison walked with Boston out to the little private cabana, lit up with tiki torches that The Palm’s five-star dining restaurant used at night to give privacy to some of their premiere clientele. Boston was definitely considered premiere, and so far, no one had said anything to Addison about dating him.
The only reason she’d agreed to let him buy her dinner here was because he’d lost a bet while they’d been practicing the Pamchenko earlier that day. Although, now that she thought about it, maybe Boston had let her win the bet.
They sat, and the server told them the specials. Once the server left, Addison gripped the menu in front of her, unable to focus. Instead, she stared at the ocean.
Boston tapped the table next to her. “Focus, Adair. Two more days until the tryout. You must have complete focus at all times.”
Turning, she gazed into his aqua eyes and thought about how his blond hair had grown longer since she’d met him. Out of the blue, she leaned into him, cautiously running her hand through his hair.
His eyes widened in surprise. Then he reached up, taking her hand and smiling.
“What?”
He kissed the back of her hand. “Nothing. I’m just happy.”
True to his promise to take it slow, even though they’d spent practically every waking moment together, Boston had held her hand and kissed her over the last few days. And that was it.
Now, his face was serious. “What you thinking, Adair?”
It was cute to her that Boston had started to call her Adair like they were teammates, which she guessed they were. “That you may be a bit too happy I won the bet today.”
He let out a laugh. “No, I’m not.”
She pushed his shoulder. “You let me win so you could take me to dinner.”
“I don’t let people do anything. You won.” His eyes went back to the menu. “What are you getting?”
She let go and scanned the menu. “Lobster, rice, salad.”
The server returned, and they ordered. It wasn’t long until their appetizer arrived.
He lightly picked up a shrimp and dipped it in the butter sauce, then sank his teeth into it. “This is good. You should try it.”
“I don’t like shrimp.”
Boston scoffed. “Why?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Boston dunked another shrimp. “You didn’t think you would like me, and yet here you are.”
She grunted, clampi
ng her mouth shut.
He wagged his eyebrows. “Try the shrimp.” He held his fork out toward her.
She could see from the determined look in his eye that he wouldn’t back down. She nibbled a small bite off. A delicious, buttery explosion melted inside her mouth. “Wow.”
He grinned. “Yes, wow.” He took two and popped them into his mouth.
She laughed, loving that he wasn’t afraid to be himself with her. She picked up another shrimp and mimicked exactly what he’d done. “It is good.” The buttery sauce was tantalizing, and dang, she was hungry. There was no doubt her body was responding to all the exercise she was getting. The constant running with Boston had kicked up her regime a lot, and she felt fitter than she had in years.
It wasn’t just that. Boston was a force of nature, and he would not just practice with her at their nightly practices. Since Christian was gone, he would stop in at the studio, stepping into the classes more and more, and the residents loved it. In fact, he had just as many old people friends as she did now.
“Come back to me, Addison.”
Turning her focus back to him, she grinned. “Sorry.”
“Talk to me.”
She hesitated. “You’re a natural, you know? I can’t believe you just took over for Christian lately. It’s cool.” They’d dressed up a bit, and he wore a blue jacket over a white T-shirt. With his tan skin and white teeth, he looked even yummier than their appetizer.
He swiped another shrimp and plunked it in his mouth, then leaned back, dabbing at his lips with a white napkin. “What else?”
Her heart raced and she felt her palms go sweaty. “I … I don’t know. It’s going to sound stupid.” She couldn’t describe the conflicted feelings to herself; how could she explain them to him?
He cocked an eyebrow. “Try me.”
“You’ll especially think it’s dumb, because you have your two-year on again, off again girlfriend on social media that you cat-fight with all the time.” She’d seen that when he lost the ex, he reveled in it, exploited it for more attention.
