Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DANTE
I’m not really sure how I ended up here.
I mean, I know how I ended up slouched in the passenger seat of Forest’s SUV, listening to him quietly singing along to some Deftones song. One spicy pic sent to Rev while he worked spurred an immediate order to have me picked up.
What I didn’t account for was shouting at Forest to turn down Cherry Street when I saw the line of traffic coming from the grand theatre where Eastview Ballet Company performs.
It’s just after 10 p.m. There’s a crowd of well-dressed people spilling out of the gold doors as Forest pulls up to the curb.
I leap from the car and rush toward the framed posters hanging on the stone walls.
Of course, they’re heavy in Nutcracker season, but there’s also an advertisement for the premiere of their newest ballet.
The Weight of Gold.
It should have premiered months ago. Why was it delayed?
I trace my fingers over the names of the starring cast, trying to envision them in the roles of the main characters. The artwork is beautiful—a young prince clutching his soon-to-be queen in one arm while the other arm reaches behind her toward a dark-haired fae man nearly hidden in the background.
The lover he shunned for his crown. The role I was destined for.
Not only was I told I had the power for the choreography, but I had the right attitude to convey the antagonist’s fury when he was cast aside. Not exactly a compliment, though I was excited to be considered for a lead role in an original piece about two men falling in love.
And okay, their love ends in ruin, but damn it if I didn’t want to be part of that representation.
“Dante?” a familiar voice calls to me.
My body tenses up as I turn to spot Sophia, one of our principal dancers, emerging from the front doors, bundled up in expensive furs. She’s accompanied by her twin brother, Wyatt, our artistic director.
Or her director. I quit Eastview.
As they push their way toward me, I have a moment of questioning how Papi afforded years of expensive lessons to get me to this point in my career.
Ballet isn’t exactly a cheap activity with all the costumes and lessons.
And even when I made it professionally, I didn’t make enough money to live comfortably in the city on my own.
The thought slips away as Sophia wraps her arms around me. “Oh my god. It is you. Dante, how are you doing?”
I never used to think much about touching her—we’ve danced together countless times—but outside of that professional space and in the context of discussing Papi’s death, I don’t know how to react to her arms around me.
Her hands drift to my biceps as she eases back, and I suck in a cold breath. “I…uh…”
My gaze moves to Wyatt behind her. Whatever he sees on my face has his expression scrunching in pity.
Fuck. I hate this.
“Actually, I don’t know how to answer that,” I finally admit.
“Oh, Dante. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sophia coos.
Swallowing, I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“We didn’t know how much to reach out,” Wyatt adds. “Your brother said you just needed time.”
I clamp my teeth together hard enough to give myself pain to focus on instead of the ache threatening to split me apart from the inside.
Fucking Laz. Always stepping in and taking care of me.
“So performances…they’re going well?” I change the subject, not keen on having a meltdown in front of them.
Wyatt smiles solemnly. “It’s been a challenge. The Weight of Gold hasn’t been coming together the way we hoped, but…it’s Nutcracker season. You know how that goes.”
I slide a hand into my hood to grip the back of my neck. “Yeah…”
How the hell do I exit this conversation? Where’s Rev when I need him?
Sophia squeezes my arms. “Dante, why don’t you come have dinner with us? Everyone from the company is meeting up.”
My eyes lock on Forest through the windows of a local coffee shop. “Um, I’m out with a friend right now.”
More like a mercenary with kind eyes, a good sense of humor, and a pleasant singing voice.
“Maybe next time,” Wyatt says hopefully. “It would be good to see you in the studio again. Trey misses you dearly.”
Something coils around my chest and squeezes tightly. Trey is Wyatt’s husband and one of the best choreographers I’ve ever worked with. The Weight of Gold is his baby. It would have been an honor to perform it.
Offering an awkward nod, I accept another hug from Sophia, give a pathetic wave to Wyatt, and head off to rejoin Forest in the coffee shop.
“Decaf.” He holds out a second cup for me. “Rev told me you’re a late-night coffee drinker.”
“Creep,” I mutter, but take the cup, appreciating the heat against my chilled hand.
“Wanna sit until traffic dies down?” he asks.
“Sure.”
We slide into a tiny booth next to the window, and I sip at the rich brew, failing to hide a wince at the bitter taste.
“Shit. Did I get your order wrong? I can get you something else,” Forest offers.
He’s too nice. The amount of compartmentalizing these mercenaries must do…
“No, it’s fine.” Forest doesn’t look convinced, so I add, “To be honest, I don’t like black coffee. Papi drank it like this. Sometimes I make a cup like I did for him when he was around. It’s…a comfort, I guess? I don’t know. It’s fucking weird.”
Forest rests his elbows on the table, both hands wrapped around his cup. “No. It’s not weird at all.”
After a few moments of silence, I find I have more to get off my chest. “I assumed they wouldn’t want to talk to me after I ghosted them.”
“Who? Your theatre friends?” Forest asks.
“My coworkers,” I correct. “I used to perform with them.”
I dropped out of ballet without explanation. Ignored everyone’s phone calls. Eventually, paychecks stopped hitting my account. I shut myself away until guilt ate at me for leaving all the bills to Laz. So I got a job, even though I could barely function.
I’m sure Eastview would have been understanding of my situation if I’d just picked up the phone and had a conversation.
But I couldn’t. Every time I tried to make that call, it was like sand filled my throat. What if they asked when I thought I’d be ready to come back? How can you put a timeline on grief? What if I had a good couple of days, only to tumble into a dark place on the day of a performance?
I didn’t want to let anyone down.
“You miss it?” Forest asks.
Dropping my eyes, I carefully spin my coffee cup on the table. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”
I can sense his lingering gaze as he waits for me to answer his question.
So, of course, I spill more secrets. “Papi took me to my first show when I was little. I fell in love with the way the performers moved. So confident and graceful. So light on their feet. I just wanted to feel light, too, in a world that felt hard for me to navigate.”
Forest gives a gentle laugh. “Gotta love childhood dreams.”
I look at him curiously. I’ve known the man for weeks now, and I don’t know much about him beyond his occupation and his love for progressive rock music. Rev mentioned he’s one of Sinro’s top mercenaries, but I can’t picture it. He seems so…non-confrontational.
“How did you end up working for Sinro?”
Forest smiles fondly, and I’m hit with the sudden thought that he’s quite handsome. His eyes are the deepest shade of blue I think I’ve ever seen.
“I got lucky. Ended up on a park bench next to Rev while he was reading one of his romance books.”
I can’t help but grin.
“I’d just been discharged from the Special Forces for a herniated disc. Overdid it during a mission.” He pauses to sip at his drink, so I do the same. “My first week after surgery, I was convinced my life was over. I no longer got to play superhero.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I murmur, relating to the tragic loss of something that was once consuming.
“Me too. I can trace back several generations of my family that were in the military. It was cool to have that connection, ya know?”
The fact that Forest and I have these things in common makes me regret not talking with him like this sooner.
I think about how I could have been getting to know Ezra better, too. Though I have to assume our time together wouldn’t be as chill as this.
And what about Gage? He’s been so good to me.
I’ve been a shit friend all around.
“Everything works out in the end.” Forest shrugs, but from the way he drums his fingers on the lid of his cup anxiously, I have to believe he’s reflecting on difficult memories.
“If I’d been left to my own devices, I might have fallen into pretty bad depression.
Luckily, my niece and nephew didn’t allow me to become a permanent fixture on the couch.
As soon as I was able to move around again, they dragged me out of the house.
That’s how I ended up in that park, chatting up Rev.
He gave me his business card and told me to give him a call when I was healed. The rest is history.”
A warm feeling expands in my chest. For once, I don’t try to bury it.
It feels good to chat with Forest.
“So…do you like being thanked for your service?” I ask.
Forest lowers his head with a toothy smile. “It makes me feel like I’m doing something above and beyond just being a decent human. You’re kind for asking, Dante.”
As my face heats, I turn my head away to hide from him. “I could be a lot kinder.”
It’s eerily quiet when I enter Rev’s apartment. The only light comes from a small lamp he left on in the living room and the glowing city outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
As the door clicks shut behind me, a note of sadness reverberates in my chest. I get that he had to work late, but I’ve been so spoiled with his affection, I can’t even go a couple of days without touching him.
For as much as I fight to seclude myself, I really don’t like being alone.
I wander into his bathroom to take a hot shower. It becomes a game to see how many of his things I can use. I can appreciate a well-groomed man, but he has products I don’t even know what to do with.