I raise my brows. “Do you?”
She shakes her head.
I cup the side of her face and angle it up to mine to brush my lips over hers. “Good. Because I think we need to keep practicing.” I pull back a little to give her a wink. “You know, I think we’re pretty good together.”
She blinks at me. For some reason, I think she’s holding her breath.
Did I make it sound too serious? I tried to keep it just about sex–about our agreement.
She seems to shake herself. “Yes. Lots of practice.” Does she sound overly bright? Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Anyway, she’s coming home with me, and that’s what really matters.
CHAPTER 12
Nadia
Three weeks later, I’m in the wings at Rue’s with butterflies in my belly.
“You look incredible.” Flynn strokes his hands down my sides.
I’m shivering with nerves in a blue-black bustier and full length skirt with petticoats underneath. A masquerade-style lace mask is over my eyes, and I’m wearing elbow-length black satin gloves. Tonight will be my first performance with Black Velvet Burlesque–just a small, group part, but I’m beyond excited.
“Thank you. I’m nervous.”
Flynn has taken me to rehearsals twice a week with Black Velvet Burlesque, not just dropping me off, but sitting to watch them in their entirety, as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. He’s also brought me to their performances every week. There was tension the first rehearsal between me and Flynn’s past lovers, but fortunately, it wore off quickly.
I’m the new fixture at the Storyteller’s rehearsals and shows, joining Oleg as part of their crew and unofficial videographer. The income from online sales of their album has tripled this month, which has everything to do with their viral Tiktok presence.
“Do you want me backstage or down in front?”
Flynn. My heart squeezes at how thoughtful he is.
He’s incredible, and I’m terrified of losing him. We’ve plowed forward, becoming an integral part of each other’s lives without ever addressing our relationship status.
I’m too afraid to talk to him about being more than his friend with benefits. Every time I think about it, I convince myself it’s not necessary. We’re already more than that. Flynn couldn’t possibly act like more of a boyfriend to me than he already does. We’re not dating other people. We don’t talk about dating other people.
The only thing we don’t have is a firm commitment, which at our age, isn’t really necessary. I mean, it’s not like I want to get married tomorrow.
So what’s the point of addressing it?
Especially because my fear is that having a conversation about where we stand will be the thing that actually pushes him away. He doesn’t like things to be intense or girls to be clingy.
“Go down in front,” I say.
“Okay, I’m going to go stake out Oleg’s spot right by the stage.” He gives me that pirate smile and a panty-melting wink.
I nod. My hands are clammy, but I’m more excited than afraid. I’m in the opening number– an ensemble piece that sets the mood for the show.
As soon as Flynn disappears, Amy, one of the girls he’s hooked up with before comes over.
“Flynn seems serious about you.”
“What? Oh, no.” I shake my head in protest. “We’re…” I can’t bring myself to say just friends. Even knowing it could get back to Flynn if I say otherwise.
“Yeah. I’ve known him a long time. He’s different with you. Way different.”
A flush of heat runs through me, warming my cold fingers, spreading from chest to belly.
I knew it. I knew I was special. I mean, I wanted to believe it. Now someone else is saying it might be true.
A minute ago, I was slightly threatened by Amy, but she’s now my best friend. I pull her into a quick happy hug.
She laughs. “Are you nervous?”
I nod. “A little. But excited. So excited.”
“You’re going to be great.” Danica strides by in stilettos and a skirt that swishes like tail feathers. She’s the absolute coolest.
“Thank you so much for letting me join you.”
“We’re glad to have you,” she says.
I’ve been working on the new costumes for the company, and they’re almost done. Hopefully next week, I can bring them to rehearsal. I haven’t told her–or anyone in the company–about my panic attacks. I’m praying they’ll be a non-issue, and I wanted them to at least give me a chance.
I haven’t had one in weeks, and Flynn and I go out in public more and more often.
Of course, I still haven’t dared go anywhere without him, but I feel like I maybe could. And he’ll be right there in front tonight. Almost like he’s right beside me.
“I’m going out,” Danica says, stepping onto the stage.
The crowd is much smaller than what the Storytellers draw. People are sitting at tables talking and drinking. There’s room to breathe. Nothing to set me off.