Why don't you Stay ... Forever - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,4

there.

Erin and Dean move together fluidly, her smaller frame inside his big body. Her kicks avoid his groin entirely.

Their grace makes me feel large and clumsy. Maybe I should have learned dance when I was younger instead of hunkering down to master C++.

The dance ends to thunderous applause. I’m on my feet too, because even I realize they are really, really good.

The show goes on. There are more dance numbers, and a loose story that goes with it, according to the program, all about the seasons, with a nod toward global warming and Venus—the planet, not the goddess. Against it are two people falling in love or at least dancing and looking at each other like they’re hurting inside.

The final dance between Erin and Dean is quiet and full of sensual moves. Erin flows with him. After a while, I forget about being envious of the man and look only at her.

Erin is beauty itself. I bask in her, every move she makes precise and effortless. I swell with pride—that’s my girl, the one who’s so quick to catch on to our company’s software’s little quirks. Far faster than my brothers have ever done. Austin still can’t work his damned computer.

Before I realize it, Erin and Dean twirl around each other and come to a halt in a curved stance, the two of them like a Renaissance statue. Applause thunders.

Erin and Dean rise out of their final pose and make their bows. Dean presents Erin with a sweep of his arm, breaking character to clap for her as Erin does her low curtsy.

Bouquets of flowers flow toward the stage, which Erin accepts with a happy but humble smile. Now I feel like a jerk because I didn’t bring her any. I didn’t realize it was a thing. I guess I’ll know better next time.

The thought jolts me. Will there be a next time? Or is this a one-off? Erin gave me the tickets to apologize for kicking the hell out of me. Trying to save her job. Would she want me here again?

I vow right then there’ll be a next time. I’ll buy my own ticket and give Erin so many flowers she won’t be able to walk off the stage with them.

Like now. Dean helps her, laughing and pleased at all the attention she’s getting. He bows to her too, and pats her on the back like, “Well done, you!”

The lights come up and the curtain rings down. The audience starts drifting out, talking excitedly. They say great things about Erin—who knew she was so talented?

“What was her name?” the lady who’d been sitting next to me says. She had been on stand-by to see the show, able to come in because I’d turned in the other two tickets Erin had given me. I hadn’t said anything, but she’d been so pleased she and her husband had been able to get in. “She was wonderful.”

“Erin Dixon,” I tell her proudly. “She’s a friend.” I think I’m glowing.

“Well, she did great tonight,” the lady says, patting my arm. “Tell her that when you go backstage to see her.”

Another jolt. I can go backstage to see her? I abruptly want to—want it more than anything else. I can’t leave until I do.

I say good-night to my seat mate, head down the aisle to the stage, and start arguing with the security guard, who takes up a stern stance and forbids me going past him and behind the curtain.

Erin

“Hey, sweetie, I think your new guy is trying to find you.”

Dean, who is surrounded by his admirers, mostly women, shoots me a wink and points through the gap in the curtain. I see one of the theater’s security guards trying to send Ben away.

I push the curtain aside and hurry to the front. “It’s all right,” I tell the guard. “He’s with me.”

Ben and the security guy break off their harried debate. The security guard flicks a hand in resignation, and I gesture Ben up the steps on the side of the stage.

“Thanks so much for being here,” I say as Ben climbs the stairs. “Come and meet everyone.”

I’m breathing hard, even more than I had been during the last pas de deux. A couple of those moves were tough, and Dean and I had practiced them until we couldn’t move.

Ben glances around with interest as I lead him backstage. “I didn’t bring you flowers, sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Some people follow the tradition. Plus, this was for my opening night. I’m so grateful