Authors: Jessica Calla
Jenna
Jenna and Scott wanted nothing less than the first place trophy for their tango.
Half of the dance competition took place Friday, the other half on Saturday. On Saturday night, the total scores would be announced and the overall winners crowned. If they won the tango that night, anything they managed to take tomorrow would be icing.
They stood backstage in nervous silence, waiting for their names to be called to perform their tango. They’d stretched, rehearsed, tanned, dressed, and psyched each other up. It all came down to this.
Scott shook his hands around, bouncing on the balls of his feet, expending his nervous energy. Jenna tugged her earlobe and paced.
When their names were announced, Scott took her hands. “Ready, Jen?”
“Yes. Let’s do it,” she said with a smile.
Her legs felt like tree trunks as she moved to center stage. As she took Scott’s hand and lightened her step, she smiled and did what she always did when she danced—clicked off her brain and tuned into her heart. She knew the choreography inside and out, and that the music would turn Scott’s body into an extension of hers.
All she needed to do was feel. Connect the emotion to the music and movement.
About three seconds into the routine, she breathed and that part of her clicked into action. She and Scott were the only two people in the room as they glided along the floor, moving, flirting, feeling, and performing.
When the music came to a dramatic end and applause erupted, Jenna almost burst out laughing. She relaxed when Scott hugged her, and at that point, Jenna didn’t really care what the judges thought. They’d kicked ass and they knew it.
As the applause died down, Jenna curtsied toward the judges and looked into the crowd. She couldn’t see far because of the lights. She spotted a blonde woman with a big camera standing in front of Dylan, who waved.
Clare.
She winked in their direction.
An obnoxious whistle squealed from the opposite side of the room, drawing her attention. “Way to go, Stecs!”
Who the heck is calling me ‘Stecs’?
Scott tugged her hand and nodded her toward the wings. She pranced offstage, and Scott lifted her off the ground in a giant, spinning bear hug. “We did it, Jen! We were awesome!”
“It felt good, didn’t it?”
They paced backstage, unable to watch the remaining dancers. They were the team to beat and didn’t want to second-guess themselves. Again, Scott bounced around and Jenna tugged her earlobe until finally the judges called the dancers to stage to announce the National Tango Champions.
The ten couples stood in a row. Jenna held her breath and Scott’s hand as third place was announced. Not them.
Phew.
Same with second place. When it was time for first place to be announced, Scott squeezed Jenna’s hand so tightly, she felt pins and needles.
When they were declared the first-place winners, crowds of people gathered around. Someone handed her flowers, and the judges shook her hand. Scott held their trophy as Dylan and Clare approached from one side and Alex the other.
Alex!
She jumped into Dylan’s arms first. “Hi, beautiful,” he said. “You were amazing!” She kissed him quickly on the lips and kept hold of him while she turned to find Alex.
At the sight of him, Jenna’s adrenaline drained and the tears fell. He embraced her and whispered in her ear, “You did it, Stecs. All that hard work. I’m so proud of you.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, sniffling.
“I couldn’t miss this. You were perfect.” Alex gave her an extra squeeze, then kissed her cheek and let her go.
She wiped her eyes and turned to Dylan, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I am so happy to see you.”
“Me too,” he said. “You were wonderful.”
She smiled and turned her attention to Clare.
“Congratulations,” Clare said after Dylan introduced her. “Your tango was terrific. Beautiful.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jenna said.
The stage manager ushered them off stage, and they lingered in the wings, talking, laughing, hugging, and admiring the trophy. Finally, Alex said, “Aren’t we in Vegas? Let’s go party!”
“I have to go to the room to change first. Where are we meeting?” Jenna asked.
Scott took her arm. “You aren’t going anywhere,” he said. “You are coming with me, and you are staying with me tonight.”
“But, Scott. Dylan’s here. And Alex. And I have to get to know Clare,” Jenna whined.
“You can do all that tomorrow. You aren’t getting anywhere near
him
,” Scott said, pointing to Dylan. “I won’t see you for days. And
him
?” he said, pointing to Alex, “You stay away from him too.”
“But—”
“No buts. We aren’t going to blow this now. One more day of dancing, then you can partake in all the sex and debauchery Vegas has to offer. Until then, no screwing around.”
Alex came to Jenna’s defense. “Geez, Scott, give her a break. What if we forbid her from drinking and pry her away from Dylan at the end of the night?”
“No way, Alex. Tomorrow night you can have her all you want. Tonight she’s mine. We’re going to drink tea and order a movie and go to bed early,” Scott said.
Jenna crossed her arms and pouted. “Can I at least have a minute with my boyfriend before I’m locked in, Dad?”
“Yes. Meet me upstairs in five minutes. And Jenna?” Scott asked.
She pouted as he smiled at her.
“I love you.”
She pecked his cheek.
“I love you too. You stupid meanie.”
When Scott left, she turned to the group.
“My Lord, that Scott is one tough customer,” Clare said.
“Yeah, he’s pretty serious about this competition,” Jenna said. “He’s suffered some injuries, so it may be our last. It’s extra special to him.”
“That makes sense. Listen, maybe we can hang out tomorrow? Dylan’s told me a lot about you,” Clare said.
“Aw, he’s sweet.” She caught Dylan’s eye and tried to perfect the look that drove him crazy. “Yes, tomorrow. When Scott releases me, we’ll all hang out.”
Alex hugged Jenna from behind. “Tonight, though, I get D-Barnes and Clare all to myself. We have to find you a nickname, Clare.”
“Nebraska,” Dylan said. “I call her Nebraska.”
“I like it. You,” Alex said to Jenna, “were incredible tonight. I want to talk to you about everything, but since Scott’s in prick mode, it will have to wait.”
Jenna smiled as Alex kissed her cheek.
“All right, D-Barnes, say good-bye to your girl—”
“Girl?” Jenna asked.
“—and meet us outside. Come on, Nebraska. Let’s check this place out. I’m dying to get to the tables.” Alex grabbed Clare’s hand, and they shuffled down the hallway.
Dylan spun Jenna around and kissed her. “There’s no way I’m not seeing you tonight, you know that, right?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she murmured. “I knew you’d have a plan.”
Dylan ran his hands over her sequined dance costume. “Wear this for me later?”
Jenna gasped. “No way. I can’t wait to get out of it,” she said, looking up at him through her fake eyelashes.
He kissed her again. “Okay, plan. What’s the plan?” he asked, more to himself than her. “Wait ’til Scott’s snoring, text me, and I’ll come rescue you. Then we’ll set the alarm and sneak you back in the morning.” He buried his face in her neck.
She ran her hands through his hair and said, “That won’t work.”
“Yeah, probably not. But let’s do it anyway, okay?”
She smiled, dizzy from his touch.
“’kay.”
“Give him an Ambien or something.”
Jenna scoffed. “Good idea.”
She blew him a kiss as he walked away, and then went to her room to spend a quiet evening with Scott, hoping he’d fall asleep soon. Having Dylan in the same city but not with her was torture, and she couldn’t wait to see Alex.
Still, she dragged, tired from the excitement. Scott must be right—she needed rest. Now that her adrenaline had subsided, she could barely keep her eyes open. Maybe she was coming down with something. The only other possible explanation made her too nervous to think about.
Jenna used her key and entered the room Scott insisted they share for the night. He lay on the bed, flipping through the Pay-Per-View menu. “So what’s it going to be, Jen? Rom-com? Action?”
“I don’t care,” she said, turning her back to him so he could help her out of her costume. “Is Dylan in anything?”
Scott unzipped and unclipped as Jenna wiggled out of her getup. “Won’t you see enough of him this weekend?”
“Not with you patrolling,” she said as he followed her into the bathroom. “And really, who could ever see enough of him? I get to see all of him too.” She turned on the hot water for the shower.
“Braggart,” Scott sneered. He didn’t leave when Jenna stepped in. “What’d you think of Clare?”
She sighed as the hot water ran over her body, remembering her shower with Dylan after their first night together. “She seemed nice. What did you think?”
“She’s prettier than I thought she’d be,” Scott said. “She has those eyes with the points on the outsides, and they’re green in the same way Alex’s are blue.”
Jenna snapped open the curtain and peeked out. “You want to date her or something?”
“No, I’m just saying.”
“Spill, Scott. What’s the issue?”
“How about I put it this way?” he started. “She looks at Dylan and he looks at her the way you and Alex look at each other.”
“Oh, and which way is that?” Jenna asked. She reached around to wash her back as Scott slid the curtain open farther. He took the washcloth and rubbed her shoulders with it. Jenna almost passed out from the sheer pleasure.
“Like there’s some big secret between you that nobody else knows. Like you can talk without words.” He moved the washcloth down her back and continued. “Intimacy has nothing to do with sex. To me, it’s being able to see into someone’s heart. You, with Alex, you look at each other like you can see into each other’s hearts.”
Jenna kept her back to Scott as tears filled her eyes. “And Clare?” she asked carefully.
“Look for yourself. Maybe it’s the eyes throwing me off, but there’s something there,” Scott said.
“Are you trying to freak me out?” Jenna asked. “Because I thought tonight was about relaxation and rest and celebration, not confusion and sadness and doubt.”
Jenna shut the water off, and Scott held out a towel for her. She walked into it and let him wrap it around her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re right. I don’t mean to upset you, especially with you getting sick.” He kissed her nose and rubbed her arms, helping her wiggle into her nightshirt.
“I’m not getting sick. I’m just tired and you’re stressing me out.”
Please let that be it. Tired, stress…
“Sorry, Princess. I’ll be good. But Dylan’s supposed to be the prince. If he breaks your heart, I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
Jenna laughed. “You and what army?” Scott was strong, but there was no possible way he could beat anyone up, especially Dylan the gladiator.
“Alex, your teal-eyed knight in shining armor,” Scott said. “I can’t believe he showed up for you.”
Jenna smiled and flopped onto the bed.
He showed up. For me.
“I don’t know how he did it, Jen, but he gets major prince points for that. At least in my book.”
“In mine too, Scotty. Too bad he doesn’t want to be in the running.” She hugged the pillow to her chest and grabbed the remote. “Let’s watch a movie.”
Scott yawned. “Okay.”
Jenna estimated he’d be asleep in minutes and sooner rather than later, she’d be with Dylan. She fought sleep so she could have her time with her lover.
Maybe her last time.
Alex
Alex, Dylan, and Clare walked up and down the Strip, checking out club after club. Women of all shapes and sizes hounded Dylan. Some recognized him, some didn’t, but they all vied for his attention.
“This happens all the time,” Clare told Alex as Dylan chatted nearby with some ladies at the bar in a club at the newest hotel in Vegas. “We can’t go anywhere without him causing a stir.”
“Clare, it’s been happening since we were twelve,” Alex said. “Let’s dance.”
Clare shrugged and took his hand. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, and he thought her freckles were cute. Her blonde hair was more yellow than white, and her skin somehow managed to look healthy despite her paleness. Her tight shirt highlighted the curviness of her tiny frame, causing more than a few heads to turn as she walked with him through the club.
Alex and Clare danced and drank, goofing around until Dylan eventually joined them. He yelled over the music, “Sorry about that.”
Clare nodded and tried to engage him in a dance. She and Alex sandwiched him and moved to the beat, but he stood checking his phone. “Jenna called. It’s safe for me to return.” He turned to Clare. “Are you going to be okay?”
She yelled over the music, “Yeah, of course.” She started dancing again, twirling and sipping her drink.
Dylan turned to Alex and leaned toward his ear. “Do you mind taking care of Clare? Don’t leave her, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
“We’re fine. She’s cool. We’re hanging,” Alex yelled.
Dylan yelled back, “I mean it, Pops. She’s in a strange city, she’s drinking. You can’t abandon her. If you can’t promise, tell me now and I’ll stay. Can you get her to her room later?”
Alex grimaced at him. “Chill out, Dyl. She’ll be fine. I’m not going to leave her. Why would I?” He winked.
“Get that look out of your eye. She’s off limits.”
“D-Barnes,” Alex shouted over the beat. “Why do you get to monopolize all the women?”
“Not all. Just two. Seriously, stay away. She’s engaged,” Dylan said.
Screwing with Dylan was so easy, Alex couldn’t resist. “I don’t see a ring. I think she’s into me.”
“Fuck you, Alex. I’m going. See you tomorrow.”
Dylan said something to Clare, then kissed her cheek. He patted Alex’s arm as he walked away.
An hour or so later, Clare and Alex entered their hotel, exhausted, and made their way through the busy casino.
“There are so many people here,” Clare said. “Nobody sleeps in this town?”
“Too much to do,” Alex said. “The night is young, Clare from Nebraska.”
“Well, let’s go explore, Alex from Brooklyn.”
After a quick stop in the hotel room to grab Clare’s camera and supplies from the minibar, they walked the Strip with the thousands of happy tourists.
The lights and sounds of Sin City provided the backdrop for their conversation. They talked about Nebraska, baseball, and Los Angeles. They talked about photography, horses, and Vegas. Finally, Clare stopped walking and spun around. “What do you think?” she asked, pointing behind him. “Possible photo?”
Alex followed her gaze. The Strip stretched before them, glowing. Almost every hotel could be seen. “Perfect.”
“I wish I wasn’t so gosh-darned short, though,” she said. “Hey, give me a boost.”
“A boost? I’m way too drunk to boost anything right now.”
“Come on, don’t be a baby. Just squat down and I’ll hop on your shoulders.”
Alex hesitated.
“Are all you New York people so boring? You have the same look on your face that Dylan gets when I ask him to do something for me. Let’s go. Squat.”
Well, okay.
He squatted, and Clare hiked up her skirt and hopped onto his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his neck.
“Now stand,” she said.
Alex got his bearings and carefully stood with Clare on his shoulders. His cheek rested on her thigh, and he felt her smooth skin. “Your thigh smells like soap,” he said.
“Soap’s a good smell, right?” she asked, wiggling around with the camera.
“It’s not bad. I’m sort of getting turned on right now.”
“Well, turn off. Dylan warned me about you. I hear a cool breeze can turn you on.” She steadied, and the camera clicked.
“That son of a bitch,” Alex said. “Fucking Barnes.”
After Clare snapped a couple of pictures, Alex helped her climb off. “So, how long have you been in love with him?” He sat down on the side of the street and pulled out the minibar bottles from Clare’s camera case.
“Excuse me?”
“Come on. You can be honest with me. It’s pretty obvious.”
Clare blushed as she sat next to him and took a bottle.
“I am not in love with Dylan. We’re—”
“Just friends,” Alex finished. “Um-hmm, right.”
“He told me you had an obnoxious streak,” she said, twisting open her tiny bottle.
They sat on the ground at the very beginning, or end, of the Strip, downing their drinks. Clare fooled around with her camera. “How long have you been in love with Jenna?” She picked it up and snapped his picture.
Alex thought about lying or making a smartass comment but knew he didn’t have to. “Since about five minutes after I met her.”
“That long? I think that’s a record from what I hear from Dylan.”
Alex smiled and Clare stared into the sky. “Gosh, aren’t they just so perfect for each other?” she said.
“It’s fucking annoying, right?” Alex tried to look at the sky too, ignoring his spinning head.
“Why does she have to be so tall?” Clare asked, more to herself than him.
“Yeah, and he’s so…”
“Gosh-darned amazing,” Clare finished.
“That’s what I was going to say. Gosh-darned amazing.”
He offered her his hands and pulled her up until she was in his arms, then danced with her on the sidewalk. “You sure are cute, Clare from Nebraska. I think you’d be really easy to love,” he said, checking her out as they swayed together. “I could show you a good time.”
Clare laughed. “Alex from Brooklyn, I do appreciate the offer. You look very yummy yourself, but unfortunately I have too many man problems to add a drunken romp with you to the list.”
“It’s probably better that way. Dylan said he’d murder me if I touched you.”
“Great,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Not only is he clogging my emotional progress, he’s literally cockblocking me too.”
“You said ‘cock’!” Alex teased.
“Vegas. This city does crazy things to people, huh?” Clare joked.
They danced for a while, then started walking again. Eventually they found their way back to the hotel, and Alex invited her to his room. They sat on the bed and ordered room service.
Clare flipped through the channels. “This whole Jenna-Dylan thing is your fault,” she said. “You should be with her by now. What’s the holdup?”
“Me? If you had gone to the premiere in New York, he’d never have hooked up with Jenna.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“He thinks you’re engaged.”
“It’s complicated,” Clare said. “What’s your excuse?”
“Fear of commitment. Messed-up childhood. The usual. Basically scared to death.”
“Ah,” she said. “Letting the past control your present and future.”
Alex didn’t feel like psychoanalyzing himself. He kissed Clare on the top of the head and showered. By the time he finished, room service had arrived and Clare was asleep on his bed. He took off her shoes and tucked her in, then ate and watched television next to her.
In the middle of the night, Clare woke, startled to see she was with Alex. “Can I stay here?” she asked, exhausted.
He offered her one of his T-shirts, and she went to the bathroom, washed her face, and changed.
“Of course. I’ll be good. I promise,” he said.
“I’m not worried,” Clare said. “I like you, Alex Popovich. You’re an okay guy.”
“Thanks, Clare from Nebraska. I like you too. Now go to sleep.”
Alex shut off the television, and he and Clare got under the covers and fell into a sound sleep.
***
Dylan
“So fucking awesome,” Dylan said as Jenna woke him up by nibbling his earlobe. She’d been too tired to do anything but sleep last night, which suited Dylan. They’d made small talk and then fallen asleep within minutes. Now, though, Jenna’s tongue tickling his neck woke up every part of him.
Unfortunately, she pulled away. “We slept through the alarm. If I don’t get back to Scott’s room, he’s going to kill me. Walk me to the elevator?”
“Can I convince you to stay?” he asked before kissing her neck. Dylan sat on the side of the bed and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He watched Jenna dress in her pajamas, her hair falling over her back as she stretched her arms into her tank top. “Jen?”
She turned and smiled.
“Where’s this going?” Although he hadn’t formulated a formal speech, his heart found a way to say the words.
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “You’ve asked me that before,” she said. “I don’t know.”
She moved toward him and grabbed his hand. “Does it have to go somewhere?”
Yes.
He wanted a relationship that went somewhere. Maybe he didn’t the night he saw Jenna on the dance floor, but he did now. He wanted what his parents had and what Maggie couldn’t give him. Commitment.
But she had to dance today.
I’m an asshole for doing this now.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not the right time. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Jenna led him into the hallway and to the elevator. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?” She kissed him and pressed the Up button.
Nearby, a door clicked open. Dylan did a double take when Clare walked out of Alex’s room in Alex’s T-shirt and shorts, carrying her clothes. A sleepy Alex followed with her camera and gear.
When she saw Dylan, her eyes popped. “Oh, hey guys,” she said, her voice husky from sleep. “Where are you going?”
“I have to sneak back before Scott misses me,” Jenna said.
Dylan looked to Alex, who looked to Jenna, who looked to Clare.
“You missed a fun time last night,” Clare said, taking the camera equipment from Alex. “You’ll come out with us tonight, right, Jenna? You are going to do great today. Dylan, wanna get breakfast later? I need another hour or two of sleep.”
Clare yawned, and Dylan stood speechless, wanting to kill Alex. Strangle him right there for taking advantage of Clare. He held it together for Jenna’s sake. “Yeah, of course. Breakfast.”
The elevator dinged, and the girls stepped on. Dylan put his hand out to block Alex from joining them. “I’m going to talk to Alex for a minute. Jen, I’ll see you later?” He leaned in and kissed her. “You’re going to be fantastic.” He smiled and touched her cheek, then glared at Clare as the doors shut.
“What’s up?” Alex asked.
Dylan rubbed his face to wake himself up. “I told you, hands off Clare.”
“Relax, Dylan,” Alex said, scowling. “And fuck you, asshole. You just spent the night with your girlfriend. What do you care?”
“I asked you to stay away from her and get her back to her room, and you did neither.”
“You sound like her father chastising me like we missed curfew,” Alex said, walking away. Dylan followed as Alex stopped at his room and put the key card into the lock. “Clare’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. Maybe you should figure out why you’re so riled up about this,” he added as he shut the door and disappeared.
Dylan cursed Alex as he made his way back to his own room and plopped onto the bed, exhausted. His phone rang with a group text from Clare to him and Alex.
Clare: Breakfast at 9. Pool?
He ignored the message and shut his eyes. Nine meant he had three hours to sleep. Then he would go to breakfast and deal with whatever the hell was going on between Alex and Clare.
***
Dylan sat in the restaurant alone until Alex and Clare walked in together, smiling and talking. They slid into the same side of the booth across from him, and Dylan grimaced.
“Whoa,” Clare said. “What’s up, Lusty? You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“Lusty?” Alex asked.
“It’s my nickname for him,” Clare said. “It’s innocent.”
“I’m fine,” Dylan mumbled. “Let’s order.”
They ate pancakes, eggs, bacon, and potatoes as if they hadn’t eaten in a week, drank a pot of coffee, and then headed to the pool. Although it was only ten in the morning, the temperature in Vegas was a solid eighty-two degrees and the sun was shining.