In the Zone (Portland Storm 5) (24 page)

A couple of the drag queens came over. One of them wrapped a feather boa around Babs’s neck. The other put a crown on his head and gave him a kiss on the cheek that left lipstick prints behind.

All of the boys whooped and gave him a hard time, but it was Colesy and Shane that my eyes sought out in all of this. They’d taken seats near the back of our group. Neither looked uncomfortable, for which I sent up silent thanks. They were laughing and enjoying Babs’s embarrassment as much as the rest of us.

A photographer came along and organized us all for a shot with Darcelle, the drag queen who’d started this show decades ago. They sat Babs down on a chair, and Darcelle sat on his knee with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

After that, we all ordered drinks and settled in for the show, feeling a bit looser about it all. Babs leaned over toward me right before the lights went down. “You know I’m going to kill you for this, right?”

“I’d expect no less.” I flashed him a grin.

This time, he cuffed me on the back of the head.

The music started up, bright lights flashed, and the drag queens came out in all their glittery, made-up, fake-eyelashed glory.

Through the whole show, they paid a lot of extra attention to our group. It probably wasn’t every night that they had a big group of muscular, mostly straight men sitting in the front, and they didn’t seem to care about which way any of us swung, anyway. Tonight, we were their captive audience. Babs, in particular, got a ton of attention from the various drag queens as the night went on.

I was a little surprised when, a few numbers in, Jonny reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill, waving it for the performer. The drag queen came down off the stage, sat in his lap, and encouraged Jonny to put the money in his cleavage.

That seemed to be all it took to get the rest of the guys to loosen up completely. This might not be something any of the other guys would have come up with for Babs’s birthday, but they decided to make a fun night out of it. I was glad to see that Babs took it all in stride, too, even taking a few dollar bills from me to offer up on occasion.

I kept checking back over my shoulder to see how Colesy and Shane were reacting, though. It was only when, about halfway through the show, I caught Shane’s eye and he gave me an almost imperceptible nod that I could relax.

It was going to be all right. Somehow, I was going to make it all right.

N
EVER IN MY
life did I think I would end up backstage at a rock concert, let alone backstage with The End of All Things, only one of the biggest bands in the world. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d known that they were based out of Portland, but it wouldn’t have ever crossed my mind that I’d get the chance to meet them. Not until Devin had shown up at our rehearsal this afternoon brandishing a stack of tickets and telling me he’d been offered a chance to work with them.

So here I was, along with Devin, Tanya, and a few of the other dancers involved in the show Devin was putting together, surrounded by the six members of a band I had idolized for more than a decade. I was trying to act cool, calm, and collected, but I was fairly certain it was coming across as boring and intimidated out of my ever-loving mind.

I’d grabbed a bottle of water off the table laden with every type of food and drink imaginable and found a seat off in the corner where hopefully I wouldn’t make a fool out of myself. One of the other dancers, Emily Bergen, had come over to join me about ten minutes ago, and we were keeping up a nice flow of chitchat. She seemed immune to the celebrity we were surrounded by, so I had to wonder if she even had a clue who The End of All Things was. At least talking with her helped me to keep my mind off Keith and the party he was holding at his house tomorrow. I was probably more nervous about going to that than I was about being here around one of the biggest bands in the world, so that was definitely saying something.

I didn’t know how I would react when I saw him again, and I definitely didn’t know how he’d react to me being there. Yes, he’d invited me, but that didn’t mean he really wanted me there. I’d hurt him. There’d been no way to misunderstand the look in his eyes when I’d asked to step back, to only be friends.

He didn’t want to be just friends.

I didn’t particularly want that, either, but I refused to settle for being in a relationship like what we’d been building. It wasn’t enough for me. I needed more than great sex and tell-me-about-your-day conversations.

That, and Tanya’s enthusiasm over the prospect of getting to go out with Devin—even if we would be surrounded by a bunch of other people—was what had convinced me to come along tonight. It was better than sitting at home alone gorging myself on pickles, after all, even if Richie and BC were as sweet as could be.

At the moment, Emily was telling me all about a dance class she’d just taken—Bollywood—when Devin cleared his throat from over her shoulder. I looked up to find he wasn’t alone; flanking him on either side were Kellan Davies and Emery Johnson from the band.

Kellan, with his spiky black hair and gold tips, was the lead singer that every girl I’d gone to high school with had drooled over at night. Emery’s skin looked like smooth, dark coffee and his eyes and dreadlocks matched. He was the guy in the band who played a little bit of everything--keyboards, saxophone, trumpet, guitar, some percussion. Not only that but everyone said he was the genius behind their unique sound, a rocker with so much soul it seemed to ooze out of his fingertips.

“Emily, do you mind if we steal Brie for a few minutes?” Devin asked.

What on earth did they want with me?

“Not at all,” she said, winking at me as though I was in on whatever it was. Apparently
she
knew, even if I was in the dark. “There’s something I need to go tell Tanya, anyway.” She was up and scurrying to the opposite corner of the room before I could object.

Kellan took the seat she’d vacated, making my nerves shoot through the roof, and Emery and Devin sat across from us.

“So there’s not a lot of time before they have to hit the stage,” Devin said, “so I’m going to cut straight to it. You know that the guys asked me to choreograph a routine for their next music video. Kellan and Emery just played the song for me, and the idea that struck me was to do something similar to what you and I are working on already.”

“Devin told us about that,” Emery said. “We want to see it so we can decide if it’s what we’re looking for or if we want him to come up with a different idea.”

To this point, I kept sitting there, nodding as though I understood what was going on, even though it all felt surreal. I still hadn’t adjusted to the fact that I was talking with two of the guys from The End of All Things, never mind what they were saying. I reached for my bottle of water and unscrewed the cap, putting it to my mouth for a sip.

“So will you dance for us?” Kellan asked.

I spluttered and would have spewed my water all over Devin and Emery if not for quickly covering my mouth with my hand, keeping it in. I coughed on it, hard enough that Kellan started pounding on my back, which only made me freak out more because,
Oh my God, Kellan Davies was pounding on my back
.

“Are you all right?” Emery asked, but my eyes were watering and I couldn’t seem to get myself enough air to speak. All I could do was nod as the fit slowly subsided into a random cough here and there. “You’re sure?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I croaked. My voice sounded like sandpaper. Thank goodness I wasn’t a singer because that would be ugly.

Kellan grinned at me when it seemed the worst had passed. “So what does that mean as to whether you’ll dance for us?” he asked.

“I don’t… When?”

“Right now,” Devin said. He stood up and reached out a hand for me.

“But we’re not ready, and I’m not dressed—”

“They want to see it now, and they have to go onstage in a few minutes. It doesn’t have to be perfect. We just need to show them what we’re working on, give them the flavor of it.”

Somehow, I ended up on my feet and following Devin out into the wide, concrete walkway of the arena, with the guys from the band coming along behind me. It wasn’t only Emery and Kellan, though. All six of them came out and one of them pulled out an iPod and some speakers. The next thing I knew, the music to “Love Runs Out” had started, and I was in Devin’s arms and dancing the routine we had been putting together.

I had worn jeans tonight since we were going to a rock concert—the first time in recent memory that I’d gone much of anywhere in pants instead of a long, baggy skirt—and I had on a stretchy, fitted blouse. Definitely not something that felt right for dancing an Argentine tango. I was also wearing one of the new bras. Tanya had been right; they fit me properly, and they made my clothes look better, and I had more self-assurance wearing them. At least I was wearing heels, even if they weren’t proper dance shoes. Still, I didn’t feel even remotely confident about performing in front of The End of All Things dressed like this.

After the first couple of bars of music, Devin pulled me in to a closed hold and he met my eyes. “Breathe,” he said.

I took a breath and held his gaze, and the music and the movement began to take over. Amagues and pasadas, caresses and ganchos, all mixed with the lyrical qualities of Devin’s contemporary phrasing.

My breath caught when he lifted me, and I twined my legs around his waist, my back arching so far it felt as though I would fall at any moment. I didn’t fall, though. He held me the same as he always had in practice, keeping our bodies in perfect balance. When he set me down on my feet again, he swept me away into the next phase of the routine. I felt almost weightless as we moved together, telling a story through movement that could never be expressed in words.

About two-thirds of the way through the song, we came to a stop. That was as far as we’d choreographed at this point, even though our performance was only about two weeks away. Devin still had me in a ballroom hold, and he caught my eyes as we both attempted to catch our breath.

“I’ve got a great idea for what we should do there,” he said, winking. “Remind me to tell you tomorrow.”

I could only nod because the guys from The End of All Things were coming over to us, all of them talking over one another and trying to get our attention. Still trying to remember how to breathe, I only took in two things. One, they loved it. And two, they wanted us to choreograph and dance for their music video.

Us
. Meaning both of us.

Not just Devin.

They wanted me, too.

I doubted I’d ever remember how to breathe again, and all I could think about was how bad I wished I could call Keith and tell him.

“
I
’LL HAVE YOU
know I’ve got the police pre-programmed into my phone so I can issue a noise complaint.” Mrs. Stephenson waved her phone in front of me as though that proved her point. As soon as she’d seen all of the cars coming along the street and parking near my house, she’d stomped over to let me have a piece of her mind. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

As if I would ever doubt it, considering she’d already done exactly that at least three times since the start of the hockey season, and who knew how many times in the previous years. “This isn’t going to be a loud party. It’s only my teammates and their families—wives, girlfriends, kids, parents, you name it—coming for a little Christmas get together.” As though to prove
my
point, Soupy and Rachel pulled up and parked right at that moment, and Rachel’s son Tuck bounded down from the SUV, running straight for me.