This was totally inconvenient because:
1) He was my best friend’s brother. I knew Kyle wouldn’t appreciate me crushing on his twin. It’d be weird for him, and he’d already warned me off once before.
2) I was beginning to realize this was so much more than a crush. I could tell it was more because…even when I’d thought I was in love with Kyle, it never felt like this. When I thought of Colton, something inside my chest would ache then start to soar like a bird terrified of flying but unable to cage itself. I couldn’t stop my feelings for him any more than I could make my heart stop beating.
3) Colton was my coach. He was supposed to be guiding the whole life makeover, helping me complete my list—which meant there was no way I could avoid him without it looking totally suspicious.
4) He was only helping me to win the bet and beat Kyle.
5) I was totally aware of this fact, and it still didn’t stop me from falling for the guy.
6) There was no way Colton felt the same. He’d probably just grin and shake his head if I told him—which I’d never have the lady balls to do anyway.
7) I had no idea how to hide my feelings.
And that was the real problem.
Unrequited love was nothing new for me (sad but true). With Kyle, disguising my feelings had been easy. He’d never suspected a thing, and maybe part of it was that while I loved Kyle, I’d never really been in love with him.
But I was at least a little bit in love with Colton.
I’d just have to fake it, I thought. Shouldn’t be hard, right? If he noticed anything, I could pretend it was all in his head. It was the best plan I had. Colton’s quarantine was ending today, and Kyle had texted to let me know they were on their way over to the studio. They’d be here any minute.
At five o’clock on the dot, the twins sauntered into Corner Street Ballroom.
“Hi guys,” I said, acting as if everything was normal while trying not to look at Colton. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” Kyle said. He tilted his head toward his brother. “Busted this guy out of the house, and he’s eager to do some dancing. Isn’t that right, Colt?”
Colton shrugged. “Eager might be a stretch, but I am feeling a hell of a lot better.”
“You are?” I said, still avoiding eye contact. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I had a good nurse,” he said.
I nodded. “Your mom is pretty awesome.”
“She is, but I didn’t mean her.”
I looked at him then. How could I not? Colton was staring back at me, his eyes clear, lip piercing glinting as his mouth tilted up in a grin. Colton looked good, better than anyone recovering from the flu had a right to. My eyes ate him up like they were starved, savoring the sight of him. But after a moment, I forced myself to look away.
“Well, the flu is no joke. Be sure to take all your medicine, and don’t overexert yourself.” Looking to Kyle, I pushed my hands into my pockets. He was my buffer, and I locked my eyes on him like a lifeline. “There’s a lot of work to do on the dance. The deadline’s coming up.”
Kyle nodded. “I know.”
“Do you remember the choreography?”
“Of course,” Kyle said.
“Does he?” I asked.
Colton frowned then stepped forward. “He is standing right here. And yeah, I remember the choreography. I was only sick for a few days, Sadie.”
“Awesome,” I said, turning away, trying to hide the thrill I’d felt when he said my name. “Let’s get to work then. I’ll start reviewing with Kyle and—”
“Actually,” Kyle said, “I’ve got to go meet Zayne.”
Whipping around to face him, I caught his gaze. My buffer was trying to abandon me? This would not do.
“But…we’ve got practice,” I said.
“I figured you and Colt would need to work alone, one-on-one like we did.”
“Well…”
“It really helped, Sadie. Plus, like I said, I know my part.” Kyle suddenly struck a pose, a dramatic one from the dance. He threw a glance at his brother. “It’s this slacker who needs the work.”
Colton rolled his eyes. “Please,” he said. “I’ll be caught up in an hour.”
“Then I’ll be back in an hour,” Kyle said.
“But Kyle,” I said desperately, “the dance, our deadline, we—”
He cut me off, placing a hand on my arm. “I’m coming back. Just work with him and see what happens. It won’t be that bad.”
“Won’t it?” I muttered, but no one seemed to hear.
Before I could argue, Colton said, “There are some things me and Sadie need to talk about anyway. Later, Kyle.”
Kyle winked at me and left. I didn’t know what the wink meant, couldn’t tell whether he was just being cute or if he suspected something, but that was beside the point. He was gone, and now I was alone with his brother. And all my freaking feelings for said brother were struggling to break free. I could feel Colton staring even as I avoided his gaze.
“So, what’d you want to talk about?” I asked.
Colton was silent a moment. Then, “Your list. I am your coach, and by my count, we still have three more items to go.”
“Two,” I said automatically.
“Two?” Colton said.
“Yeah, I didn’t know how long you’d be out, so I did one while you were gone.” My cheeks flamed. “Plus, we crossed off number 22.”
“Ah yes,” Colton said, “how could I forget? Number 22, one of my favorites on the naughty list.”
Mine, too, I thought but didn’t say.
22) Sleep with a guy (Just. Sleep!)
It was something I could hardly believe I’d done, but the memory was imprinted on my mind. Surprisingly, Colton had behaved like a perfect gentleman the whole time I’d been in his bed. I frowned. I wasn’t sure if I was happy or disappointed by this fact.
“Sadly, I don’t remember much,” he said.
My eyes snapped to his. “Really? You don’t remember?”
You don’t remember asking me to stay or encouraging me to dance—or saying I was beautiful? You don’t remember sleeping with me snugly fitted to your chest, your arm hugging my waist, the same position I woke up in before I snuck out early the next morning?
“It’s all hazy,” Colton said. “But what’d you expect? I was out of it from the medicine, delirious with fever.”
My chest deflated. Oh well, I thought, I guess it was good that he didn’t remember. Maybe it would make dancing together less awkward. For him anyway. I still remembered everything with perfect clarity.
Colton crossed his arms. “What other one did you do?”
My entire body heated this time, part embarrassment, part something else entirely. I so didn’t want to talk about this with Colton, but he was my coach so… “I ordered some lingerie the other day online,” I said. “It’s a corset. I was thinking I could use it as part of my costume.”
“What color?” he asked.
“Red.”
“I’ll need to see that.”
“What?” I asked, my gaze returning to his. “Is that really necessary?”
Colton’s face was impassive. “You heard me. As your coach, I’ll need to see this so-called lingerie. It’s important that I be included in all aspects of your naughty list.”
“Okaaay,” I said slowly. “But for the hundredth time, it’s not a naughty list. And I definitely picked out something nice.”
“I’m sure you did.”
There was something in his voice, in the way he was staring that made my throat go dry.
“So that just leaves Dancer’s Edge and the tattoo, right?” he said. “You decide what to do about that?”
I shook my head. I’d actually thought about this one a lot. “I did some research, and it takes a while for tattoos to heal. Almost two weeks, right? For the dance, we’ll have to touch each other a lot, and I wanted it on my wrist—plus, to be honest, I’m not
even sure I want a tattoo anymore.” A shiver went down my spine. “I’ve read so many horror stories about pain and infection. Not proud of it, but Google may have officially scared me off.”
“Never fear,” Colton said, pulling something out of his pocket. “I’ve got you covered.”
Looking at the small paper squares in his hand, I noticed a dragon, daisy, and what looked like some words in cursive. My heart warmed. It was number seven on my list.
7) Get a tattoo (daisy, dragon, lyrics/book quote?)
“See,” Colton said, holding them up, “even though I was sick I was still being an awesome coach.”
“I see,” I swallowed, hoping I could control myself and not just tackle him right then and there.
“Which one do you want?”
Clearing my throat, I said, “What’s the last one say?”
Colton grinned. “It says: I love Mr. Darcy. You know, from that dumb show you made me watch?”
“Pride and Prejudice?”
“Yeah, that one,” he said. “I finished it and a ton of other movies while Mom kept me hostage in the house—which included A Walk to Remember, have to give them props for the tattoo idea, but seriously? That movie is sad as hell. By the way, back to Pride and Prejudice, I knew I didn’t trust Wickham. Darcy turned out to be pretty decent though.”
I nodded unable to speak.
“So?” he said again. “Which do you want?”
“The daisy,” I said. Because although I did love Mr. Darcy, he was a fictional character. The guy in front of me, on the other hand, the one who was gently applying the daisy tattoo to the inside of my wrist, brows furrowed in concentration? He was all real. Colton was more real than anyone I’d ever met, and I knew that although I’d never have him, although he didn’t feel the same, my love for him was real, too.
Colton straightened after applying the tattoo and caught me staring.
“What?” he said.
“Hmm?”
“Why are you looking at me like that, Sadie?”
I blinked. “Practicing for the dance,” I lied. “Remember when I told you how you guys have to look at me? Well, I have to look at you…like I want you. More than anything.”
Colton nodded slowly. “You’re doing a damn good job. With the hearts in your eyes, even I’d believe you.”
“Thanks,” I said, shaking myself out of it, and then I took a deep breath. “Ready to get started?”
“Yeah,” Colton said. “Let’s do this.”
With that, we got down to business. Even though I was lovestruck and trying my best to hide it, Colton picked up the choreography so fast, faster even than Kyle, and he had “the look” down pat. Every time his eyes caught mine, I felt something spark inside me. Colton definitely didn’t need to work on his smolder. The way he looked at me…the way it made me feel…I had to keep reminding myself this was pretend. I wasn’t his type. It was all for the bet. Still… His hands molded to my curves, and Colton wasn’t afraid to pull me in close, move with me. The chemistry was undeniable. It was just like when we’d danced at the club multiplied by a thousand, and my heart was trying to beat a hole in my chest.
By the time Kyle came back, we’d gone over Colton’s part several times and had everything but the last bit of choreo perfected. The only thing left to do was put it all together and hope like heck it worked.
And miracle of miracles, after two more hours, it did. Kyle really had been practicing; I could tell. When we added him to the mix, everything was amplified, and the heat level couldn’t have been higher. The movements really brought out the tug of war between the two guys, and I was able to play off of them, telling the story of passion, desire and power I’d wanted to tell all along.
We agreed to meet again tomorrow night to practice, but before I said goodbye to the Bishop brothers, I laid out my plan.
“So, I’m going to try for the million views,” I said.
Colton and Kyle both stared at me.
“I thought it was your dream to be on the Dancer’s Edge site,” Kyle said, looking confused.
“It was,” I said—then amended, “I mean, it is. But if Dancer’s Edge doesn’t want to give the dance their stamp of approval, I don’t want to wait for it. I’m putting work out there that I’m proud of. I love it, and that’s all that matters.”
Colton was smiling a bit, and Kyle looked stunned.
“Good for you,” my best friend said. “What made you decide to go for it?”
Glancing to Colton then away, I shrugged. “Took some good advice.”
“Sounds like a smart guy,” Colton said. “And how do you plan on getting a million views?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure yet,” I admitted, “but I’m working on it.”
Kyle smiled and pulled me in for a hug. “Gah, I’m so proud of you right now.”
“Don’t be too proud.” Colton shook his head, tongue flicking his lip ring. “If we get that million, you’re that much closer to losing the bet.”
“Yeah whatever,” Kyle said, “maybe it’ll happen. Maybe it won’t, but man, I love that she’s trying. Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, my friend, and I will,” I laughed. “I’m sure I’ll need all the help I can get. By the way, Betty’s coming in to do our makeup—which is awesome because she used to do makeup for the stars—and Tim said he’d drive down to film the dance for us on Saturday.”
Colton nodded but said nothing. As he stared at me, and I tried but failed to read his mind, one thought ran through my head like a record on repeat.
After we did this last thing, whether it succeeded or failed, Colton would no longer be my coach. The end of the month was in 12 days, and coincidentally so was the deadline for Dancer’s Edge. That meant the end of the bet, the end of our time together, the end of my time with Colton. I felt my eyes misting and looked away. Strange, I’d always thought finishing my list would make me happy.
But I was already missing Colton even though he was right here in front of me.
The next few days flew by.
Colton, Kyle and I practiced every night—and I noticed Colton was never late even though he was still working long hours at the garage. He and Kyle seemed determined to make the dance the best it could be, making every correction, running the piece as many times as necessary, and I couldn’t have been more thankful.
I soaked up those practices, memorizing the feel of Colton’s broad shoulders, his closeness.
Every time Colton noticed something like a fluttering pulse (how could my pulse not flutter when he trailed his hand slowly down my neck?) or a gasp (because his hand on my lower back felt freaking amazing), I deflected like a pro.
“Oh that,” I’d said. “It’s just part of the dance.”
“It sure felt real,” Colton had grumbled.
“That’s the whole point. We want people to believe this”—I’d gestured between the three of us—”is all genuine, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Colton had said. “If this whole dancing thing doesn’t pan out, maybe you should try acting. You’re really good at it.”
“Thanks, you are, too.”
And he was. Although Colton had definitely caught me staring at his lip ring on more than one occasion, I’d noticed him staring at me as well. There were times when we’d hit a pose or come out of a lift, dip or spin, and I totally thought he was going to make a move, was sure he was going to kiss me. But then Colton would blink and back off, once again becoming his normal cool, unaffected self. It was wishful thinking, but if I hadn’t known better, I definitely would’ve thought he felt something for me, too.
If I was a good actor, his performance was Oscar-worthy.
Saturday came, and before I knew it, Betty was doing my makeup, getting me ready to do this dance that I loved with the two guys that I loved.
“This is so exciting,” Betty said, adding something called contouring to my face. “You look fabulous, dear, just
fabulous. After I finish, you’ll be ready to make your grand debut.”
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Betty,” I said, but she shushed me.
“Oh, hush now,” she said. “I already told you. It’s my pleasure. Eyes closed, please.”
I did as she asked and felt my eyelids getting the same treatment as the rest of my face.
“Those twins sure are gorgeous,” she commented. “Kyle’s a peach, and Colton sure seems to be smitten if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“He’s not,” I said, lips turning down. “He’s doing this to win a bet.”
I couldn’t see it, but I heard Betty sigh and knew she was shaking her head. “Oh Sadie, you really are blind if you can’t see his feelings for you.”
“It’s fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. “It’s not like I’m smitten with him either.”
“Now, you know I’m far too smart to believe that big of a fib,” Betty said which made me blush. “But think about it, Sadie. Why would Colton agree to do the life makeover? Why would he do this dance when, as you’ve mentioned, he hates dancing? Why would he ask me…”
“Ask you what?” I said when she’d been silent too long. Silence was not one of Betty’s strong suits. I was immediately suspicious.
“Never mind,” she said. “It’s not important. Now, open those beautiful eyes, so I can do your mascara. Has he seen you yet? In costume, I mean?”
I was still suspicious but decided to let it go. If Betty didn’t want to talk about something, it was like pulling teeth trying to get it out of her. “Not yet,” I said, though I had texted Colton a picture of my corset the other day. I’d laid it out on my bed all nice and proper, snapped the pic and sent it his way.
His reaction had been underwhelmed.
I could see that he’d read the text. The little dots that let me know he was typing appeared then disappeared. This went on for a few minutes before I finally got his response.
The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad Page 21
