Chapter 24 Luca
“How were your parents yesterday?” I asked Jack as we ordered our coffee and a snack.
Matilda had messaged saying she was running late, as she had to drop Taylor home.
I didn’t mind, as it gave me time to gather my wits.
Upon reaching our dressing room earlier that day, I’d found a small handwritten note on my vanity table informing me that my costume was ready to pick up from Wardrobe.
Noticing a similar note on Matilda’s vanity, I’d grabbed both slips and headed to collect our costumes.
After hanging them in our dressing room, I went to meet Jack in the café.
“They’re good. They were asking after you.
” He tapped his card on the reader, thanking the barista, who motioned us to the waiting area.
I usually saw Jack’s parents fairly often; they were almost like second parents.
“They’re not used to you being so…busy.” He smirked over his shoulder, and I narrowed my eyes.
“What did you tell them?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that you were too busy to visit because you were drooling over your skating partner 24/7,” he replied in a sing-song voice.
“Are you kidding? You can’t say shit like that, Jack.”
“No denial, I see.”
Fuck.
“I am not drooling over Matilda,” I hissed as we collected our coffees and sandwiches. My stomach grumbled; I hadn’t eaten since the previous night.
“It doesn’t pack the same punch when you have to be reminded to deny it, buddy.” He patted me on the shoulder as we weaved through the tables toward the exit.
“Give it a rest.”
“Where were you last night, then?” He chuckled. I had the childish urge to stick my leg out and trip him. The vision of his coffee and sandwich scattering across the floor almost brought a smile to my face.
“Stop it. You sound like a needy boyfriend.”
“Classic deflection—I love it.”
“I wasn’t deflecting.”
“So, where were you?”
“You know where I was. You have me on Find My Friends, idiot.”
“I know, but I want to hear you say it.” He held the door open for me, and I narrowed my eyes at him as I walked through.
“Matilda’s,” I ground out.
“That must be why you’re in a stellar mood this morning,” he jabbed playfully. “How could you possibly end up back there?”
“We were watching the recording from yesterday.” Somehow, I had persuaded myself last night that it was a good enough reason to go to her place, but in the light of day it seemed like a flimsy excuse.
The evening had been the opposite of relaxing—Matilda’s warm thighs against my waist were burned into my memory, ensuring I’d been restless ever since.
“You had to watch the tape at her house over dinner?”
“How did you know we had dinner?” I spun to look at him but found him smiling.
“I didn’t, but I do now.” He laughed. “Netflix and chill, hmm?”
“It wasn’t like that.” I wanted to tell Jack what had happened, but another part wanted Matilda and me to return to how we had been before our truce. She was occupying more and more of my thoughts every day.
And that text? Jesus fucking Christ.
Did the text from Lily insinuate that Matilda had been celibate for the past year?
A strange part of me enjoyed that small fact, which in turn pissed me off even more.
I shouldn’t have cared about her sex life, but my brain and cock obviously hadn’t got the memo because that was all they’d been thinking about since the night before.
“Sure it wasn’t.” He slapped my shoulder. “Where’s Matilda this morning?” Jack asked as we rounded the corner toward our dressing room.
“She got caught up with Taylor, but she managed to get a slot on the training rink at eleven-thirty so we can clean up the lift.”
“Why is she always looking after Taylor?”
“Her sister is a pretty absent parent, I think. Not sure about Taylor’s dad.”
“So Matilda steps in?”
“Yeah, she and Taylor are close. They spend a lot of time together.” It was obvious to anyone with a functioning temporal lobe that Matilda adored Taylor.
But every time Lauren demanded Matilda take care of her, I had to bite my tongue.
Of course, Matilda said it was fine, but she was so clearly wearing herself thin trying to balance everything.
Jack hummed thoughtfully but changed the subject. “Are you both ready for the press conference afterward?”
“Yeah, it’s with the other skaters, so I doubt we’ll get too much screen time anyway,” I replied as we entered the room that had become more familiar than my own home over the past six weeks.
I grabbed the TV remote, flicked on the television, and collapsed onto one of the sofas, with Jack taking the opposite side.
Our warm-up went well. It was hard to skate the whole routine, since we shared the training rink with three other pairs, so we settled on going over the most challenging segments. We practiced the lift that had been causing issues, and thankfully it went smoothly.
Neither of us acknowledged the previous night, which was probably a good thing. Discussing the near-kiss was a guaranteed way to make things awkward, which wasn’t exactly what we needed when we were attempting to sell a romance to the viewers.
Wardrobe had gotten me dressed in a pair of stretchy black jeans almost identical to the ones I’d rehearsed in, and a skintight black T-shirt. It left nothing to the imagination, but I didn’t care; most of the world had seen me almost nude in a movie at one point or another.
It was around six-fifteen, so we needed to head to the live studio lounge area where the partners sat while others performed. The program was set to start at seven, allowing enough time for us to be briefed and prepped beforehand.
Knocking on our dressing room door, I entered when I heard a muffled “Come in.”
Matilda was alone, leaning against the vanity, reading something on her phone. When she looked up and saw me, she put her phone down and assessed my outfit. I took the opportunity to do the same.
Her hair was curled into tight, wild corkscrews that framed her face, and her lips were painted bright red.
She was clad in a black puffy skirt and a snug black crop top that covered her arms. Her white skates hung loosely in her hands.
Despite the heavy makeup, her naturally beautiful features still shone through.
She looked as though she had walked straight off the set of Grease.
“You look great,” she said casually, her voice carrying a hint of excitement beneath her calm exterior.
“You look good too.”
Understatement of the year.
Silence filled the room, which seemed to kick Matilda into action. “Are you ready?” She rushed across the room, collecting my black skates and passing them to me.
“Yes, let’s go.”
I took my skates from her hand and reached for hers. Her brow furrowed, but she passed them over. “Why do you need those?”
“I don’t.” I nodded toward the door. “Go.”
I didn’t miss the blush that rose to her cheeks before she turned and led me out of the room.
Adrenaline coursed through me as I anticipated our first live performance, igniting a fire within me.
Matilda and I were seated in the live lounge area alongside ten other pairs.
Between skates, the hosts would ask us how our training had gone and what we’d thought of the last performance.
Although it was reality TV, it felt similar to stage acting—we only had one chance to get it right.
“How are you both feeling about Asha and Alice scoring so high in their first week?” Tamara, the TV host, addressed me and Matilda. “Considering the average for week one is around sixteen or seventeen out of forty, they’re going to be the ones to watch.”
The judges’ votes were important in guiding the audience to decide who should advance to the next round, but ultimately it was up to the public to decide.
The results show was always filmed and televised on the Sunday after the performances to give people time to vote, with the exception of the final, which would all happen on the Saturday night.
“We’re happy for them.” Matilda’s smile widened. “They’ve been working so hard this season; it’s good to see it’s paying off.”
“And do you think your hard work will pay off? We’ve seen from the promo videos of you two that things are looking…
intense.” Tamara smirked knowingly at us.
That was exactly what we wanted. Despite last night, I assumed we were still pretending to flirt.
We hadn’t defined the boundaries, which made things tricky. I didn’t want to cross any lines.
Matilda offered a perfectly coy laugh. She turned to me, placing a hand on my thigh. We’re still pretending, then. “They have been quite full-on, haven’t they, Luca?”
I casually draped an arm around the back of her shoulders, playing with one of her bouncy curls. “Matilda runs a tight ship. I’m exhausted from all the hours we’ve been putting in, so I sure hope it pays off.”
Matilda laughed and squeezed my thigh. It took superhuman strength to resist looking at her hand, for fear I’d start imagining what it would look like moving further up and wrapping—
You’re on live TV, asshole.
Despite my former reluctance, I’d accepted that we would be in the press. Like Matilda had said weeks ago, it would work in our favor. Hopefully, the producers of Dirty Dancing would see it and trust that I was the right choice.
Nate and Rebecca Hart finished their performance, which meant we were next.
Matilda grabbed my arm and pulled me through the backstage hallways, eager to get on the ice.
She looked back at me, excitement in her bright eyes, and I felt an echo of her enthusiasm.
Once we arrived at the backstage rink entrance, I placed Matilda’s skates down and slipped mine on quickly as she spoke to the backstage coordinator.
He nodded at her and pointed to the X etched into the ice where we were to stand.
By the time she had started putting her skates on, I had finished mine. So I stayed crouching, pulling her booted foot toward me so I could lace it up.
“I can do that,” she said, attempting to pull her foot out of my grasp.
“I know.”
Her smile was warm and grateful, and it only fueled the buzz pumping around my veins.
We stepped onto the ice and skated to our spot. Unlike during the dress rehearsal, the studio was packed, the crowd loud and pulsing with excitement.
We stood in position, waiting for our introduction. Holding Matilda felt natural, but for the first time in years, I was nervous.
There was less than an inch of space between her back and my front, but it felt charged with intimate electricity. Her palms were soft in mine, but the graceful arc of her arms was strong and steady.
Matilda had just as much riding on the next few months as I did, and I didn’t want to let her down—not like I had at the press event. But it was more than that. I actually wanted to make her happy, to see her smile again, as brightly as she had last night.
“It’s time to welcome to the ice Luca Vasvault and his partner, Matilda Stevens.”
The opening beats of “You’re the One That I Want” started playing, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
I squeezed Matilda’s hands seconds before we skated in a quick synchronized trot onto the ice. The lights were blindingly bright, leaving the crowd in a curtain of darkness—and all thoughts of who was watching left me as I succumbed to the bouncy beats and fast movements.
We swept around the ice, weaving together and apart with an intuitive awareness of each other’s movements.
The crowd’s applause rang out as we flawlessly executed the first lift.
Any nerves evaporated, replaced with innate competitiveness and focus.
Matilda landed gracefully, spinning to meet my gaze as I continued to push forward.
Her face lit up with the most magnificent smile, making her more breathtaking, and I didn’t even attempt to hide my own smile.
We were mirrors of each other, unguarded in our joy.
She clasped my hands, drawing us close until our noses almost touched.
We were crushing it.
Every movement felt sharp and deliberate. The background noise and cheers faded into a muffled blur as we skated closer and closer to our goal.
I pushed her away gently, and she twirled independently while I circled her, playing the adoring suitor. As her spins slowed, I skated backward, preparing for our next lift. She reached my outstretched arms, and I lifted her effortlessly, spinning us around multiple times.
I’d forgotten how good it felt to enjoy something without reservations or a trace of skepticism. My mind was consumed entirely by Matilda and the skate, and the freedom was intoxicating.
Matilda transitioned perfectly, and I followed suit.
As we drew toward the end of the dance, I matched her movements.
We hit our final position: I wrapped one arm around her waist to support her as she leaned back, leg bent and lifted.
My other arm extended outward to point into the camera, while her free hand rested on her hip with attitude.
The crowd went wild, their applause echoing throughout the arena. It was the closest to euphoria I had felt in a long time.
Matilda squealed, knowing that we’d hit every beat and move perfectly.
She didn’t hesitate. With a quick movement, she leaped into my arms, her arms locking behind my neck.
I caught her instinctively, my hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.
Her legs draped loosely as I spun us, her laughter ringing in the air, my heart racing in sync with the momentum.
“Oh my god…” she whispered as I gripped the back of her head in the embrace. The crowd was still cheering, making it hard to think straight.
“We did it, Stevens,” I whispered.
I quickly placed her on to the ice, hoping the crowd’s cheers had masked the nickname.
She laughed heartily, seeing straight through me. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t hide the smile that fought its way onto my face.