Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

  The music begins and the spotlight comes on. I lift one leg in an arabesque and turn to the side, then lower my leg and twirl away from the barre in pirouettes. Jonah walks slowly toward me and pulls me out of a twirl into a slow fox-trot basic step. He gives me a firm look and nods to me as he lets me go in a spin and I do a pirouette, out of which he takes me into a lift, turning with me. Our movements aren’t any faster than the song’s rhythm, but it’s incredibly exhausting since we’re both struggling for our composure.

  When the dance ends, I lie down on the floor as planned and hide my face. Jonah approaches me and pulls me upright. We stand face to face for a moment, and he wipes away my tears. “You did it,” he says over the applauding audience and pulls me into his arms.

  I cry into his shoulder as Xander comes over. “Thank you for this exceptionally emotional dance in Brooke’s memory. How was it for you?”

  Jonah clears his throat. “I think I’m speaking for both myself and Lane when I say that it was one of our biggest challenges.”

  From me there are only sniffles.

  “Jonah, maybe you should pick up Madeleine and carry her up the steps to LaToya’s interview.”

  Jonah picks me up into his arms, and I wrap mine around his neck.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big hand for Jonah Quincy and Madeleine Dubois,” Xander says. From the corner of my eye, I can see them giving us a standing ovation.

  When we reach LaToya, he sets me back down on my feet. There are tears in her eyes, too. “Madeleine, Jonah, thank you. I’ve never seen such an emotional dance. How are you feeling?” She looks at me.

  I wipe a tear off my cheek. “Not well, considering the fact that I’ll never see my best friend again,” I whisper into the mic.

  “It was a big challenge to dance in a way that lives up to Brooke’s memory and her favorite song,” Jonah answers. “And it was quite emotional for us since we were very close friends. Brooke will live on in our hearts.”

  “Madeleine, would you like to add something?” she asks me.

  “I miss you, Brooke, and if you saw this, it was just for you,” I say, shaking with sobs. Jonah pulls me back into his arms.

  As soon as the camera switches back to Xander, our colleagues come over to us. “That was world class,” Byron, one of the professional dancers, praises us.

  “Thanks, man,” Jonah replies, without letting go of me.

  I pull away from him and hug all my colleagues that have come over. “Thank you all,” I whisper.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Byron McKenzie and Velma Hofstetter,” Xander announces from the dance floor.

  I sit down with Gavin, who takes my hand. “You all right?”

  I nod at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

  He puts his arms around me and caresses my back. “You were wonderful.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper, closing my eyes. If there’s one thing I’m really grateful for right now, it’s the fact that they only use waterproof makeup here. It takes ages to get it off, but at least you can cry as much as you want.

  “I don’t think I want to go to any party on the beach tonight,” I say quietly.

  “What do you want to do?”

  I lean against him. “Be with you.”

  Chapter 12

  Three weeks later

  Gavin and I have been together for three weeks now, but we’re still keeping it out of the public eye. There are rumors that there’s something going on between the two of us, but we both deny it. It’s getting annoying dodging people from the press all the time, but it’s still a lot better than receiving threatening hate mail and cyberbullying attacks. On my Facebook fan page I have two thousand likes more than before, probably because Gavin promoted me on his own page. He also keeps posting pictures of us, which I’m not that into. Sometimes one of his friends will make a little video of us, like today when we were practicing for the rock ’n’ roll number. Luckily, Gavin already knew the basic steps, but the spins and lifts were a nightmare. And to be honest, my right foot is now shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow because he stomped on it a few times.

  Last week and the week before, I was exposed to a real shit-storm, because my tone with him became a bit harder. His fans aren’t at all happy that I get to spend time with him between the shows. Since Gavin is keeping an eye on my fan page and the whole thing was in the big magazines for a while, he witnessed it all. I methodically avoid interview questions on the subject because I don’t want to rehash those events. Meanwhile I hardly react to comments under my pictures anymore. It’s no good feeding the trolls.

  My phone makes the typical ping noise that always happens when there’s a message via the Facebook page manager. I take it out of my pocket while walking down the stairs. Gavin’s still in the shower, since we got pretty sweaty today. I’ve already had mine, and now I’m entering the living room where the others are.

  “Hey, Lane,” Mike says as I enter the room.

  “Hey,” I reply, concentrating hard on reading the message I just received. You’re such a cheap whore! Stop coming on to Gavin or we’re gonna slice you, you fucking bitch. If we see you almost kissing him after your dance one more time, we’re gonna kill you. My hand starts shaking. What’s this all about? I didn’t hurt anybody. Everything we do on the dance floor is just acting. My phone pings again. Another message. Leave Gavin alone, you slut! His fans are going to make your life hell if you steal him from us. This is the first time I’ve gotten anything like this.

  “You all right, Lane?” Linden asks.

  I raise my eyes and look at him wide-eyed. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he tells me as I sit down with him and Alexis.

  “Do I?” I reply, lost in thought.

  “Yes,” they say in unison and give me the once-over.

  “I’m honestly fine, it’s just that I got a message with some bad news in it.”

  “What happened?” Alexis inquires, regarding me with his brown eyes.

  “It’s private,” I murmur, putting my phone back in my pocket. “Are you coming to the show on Saturday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Awesome. Gavin’s happy that you’re supporting him so well.”

  Alexis chuckles. “We do keep teasing him about those tight pants, but we think he’s doing really well.”

  “True. I’ve never danced with such a fast-learning candidate before.”

  “Admit it, you’re just jealous of my muscular thighs,” Gavin pouts, coming into the room.

  I repress a giggle while Linden and Alexis are roaring with laughter.

  “Sure, with our wimpy little stork legs,” Linden remarks, laughing.

  “Just look at your knobby little knees,” Gavin teases them.

  “And all that because your pants are too tight,” Alexis says with a fake sigh, which makes me laugh.

  “Hey, Lane, what do you think about my legs?” Gavin inquires with a grin.

  I take a deep breath. “Well . . . I’ve never seen such firm thighs on a guy who wasn’t a dancer.” My voice is shaking from repressed laughter. But at least it’s keeping my thoughts from wandering to those mean messages.

  “What was that injury that Marshall had in How I Met Your Mother?” Linden asks.

  “Dancer’s hip!” Alexis yells, which has us all rolling around in laughter again.

  “You’d find that in ballet dancers,” I explain with amusement.

  “Maybe Gavin’s starting to suffer from too much booty shaking,” Alexis teases him.

  I can tell, meanwhile, that the guys love to yank each other’s chains.

  “Everybody dance now!” Mike sings, coming into the room shaking his hips.

  Alexis and Linden start beatboxing, and Mike and Gavin dance to their beat. To my relief, Mike is acting out the woman’s part.

  “Oh my God, stop it, stop!” I manage to call out through my laughter after watching them for a while.

  They stop just as G
avin drops Mike backward, holding him in his arms.

  “That was Dirty Dancing if I ever saw it,” Azer, who has just entered the room, says with a laugh. “But it really suits you.” Then he sits down next to me on the arm of the chair. “Madeleine pulled out all the stops for you, Gavin.”

  Gavin nods as he helps Mike get back into an upright position. “Yeah, she’s a damn good teacher.”

  “Thank you,” I say shyly and can feel myself blushing. His friends don’t know either that we’re together. We do get together a lot when we’re in the Hamptons, but we won’t let them see us together in the streets of New York.

  And all that just so we don’t appear together all over the media. I glance at my watch. “I should get going, I have to rehearse with the other dancers.”

  “Already?” Gavin says, sounding a little disappointed.

  I nod quickly. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Well, see you tomorrow, Lane,” Mike says with a smile.

  “See you, guys.” I get up and walk toward the door.

  “Wait, I’ll walk you out.” Gavin comes to my side, picking up the bag I left by the door. “How would you like to fly to Miami with us next week? We were going to spend some time back home.”

  I look at him in confusion. “Aren’t you from Orlando?”

  “Yeah, but all that matters is Florida, babe.”

  My lips stretch into a wide smile. “I’d like to, but the flight . . .”

  “We have a private jet we can charter.”

  My eyes widen. “Oh jeez, really?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Once again, I realize how filthy rich you are,” I reply breathlessly.

  We go outside, where Tiffy is waiting. “I’m not filthy rich, we have the jet so we don’t have to squeeze through the crowds at the airport and dodge the paparazzi. It’s part of the job.”

  “What about fans?”

  “Nah, they usually wait in front of the hotels or restaurants we go to.”

  “Ah, right. Well, I . . . should be on my way.”

  My phone pings again, and Gavin gives me a questioning look. “They still haven’t stopped?”

  “They did . . . I don’t know what this is.”

  “That was the page manager sound. Go on, Lane, look at it.”

  “Later, OK? I want to get to rehearsal safely first.”

  “Sure,” he says with a smile, pulling me into his arms. I return his hug, squeezing my cheek against his chest and closing my eyes. Should I tell him? I wonder sadly, but I find my answer quickly. No! I don’t want him to worry. And what I want to think about even less is what his fans are up to.

  Gavin puts two fingers under my chin and kisses me gently. “So, are you coming to Miami? We could rehearse there, too.”

  I plant another light kiss on his lips. “OK. What should I pack?”

  “Summer clothes. We’re flying Sunday morning because Linden wants to be with Thalia as soon as possible,” he answers.

  “That means I have to go home after the show on Saturday,” I whisper as his lips approach mine again.

  “No problem,” he murmurs, sealing my lips with another kiss.

  I draw away as it becomes more intense. “I really need to go.”

  “Can we meet tonight?”

  I shake my head. “I was going to go to bed early tonight.”

  “So we can go to bed early together.”

  “Gavin, your friends . . .”

  “Are becoming suspicious? They already are, so it wouldn’t be so bad if you spent the night here, babe,” he tells me, convinced.

  I sigh. “All right. I’m driving home after rehearsal, and then I’ll call you.”

  “So you’re coming here?”

  “Or you can come to my place, we’ll see.” I pull out of his hug and take my bag from his hands. “See you later.”

  He puts his hands in his pockets. “Don’t forget me.”

  I laugh quietly. “How could I?”

  “I don’t know, anything could happen.”

  I blow him a kiss before getting in my car and driving off. Luckily Pax has given Tiffy a full overhaul. In the rearview mirror I can see Gavin still standing by the steps, following me with his gaze. I stick my arm out of the open window and wave. He waves back until I can’t see him anymore.

  My cell phone keeps pinging. It’s always the same sound, always the message tone from the site manager. “Oh, please let it be somebody with something nice to say,” I pray.

  I’m sitting in my car, staring at the phone screen. Three new hate messages. I’m starting to get really scared. Apart from those messages, there were a few unpleasant comments accusing me of being anorexic, or only wanting Gavin for his money. He commented: Madeleine and I are only dance partners, and if you don’t cut the bull, I’m going to take the screenshots to the police. He commented with his own account, since he’s on Facebook with an alias. So am I, since it’s safer when you want to save yourself from stalker fans. No one can write me messages without being friended first. I’ll have to deactivate that, too, on my page, but I have no idea how to do it from a smartphone. I’ll just shut off the sound and ignore anything coming from Facebook for now.

  A knock on the window makes me jump. Pax is standing by the door, so I get out. His garage is nearby. “Hey,” I greet him.

  “Hi. Are you all right? You look worried.”

  I take a deep breath. “Well, I got some hate mail from Downstair Alley fans because I dance with Gavin,” I tell him.

  “What can you do about it?” he asks, and his expression goes from cheerful to concerned.

  “I don’t know. The threats are pretty terrible . . . As if it wasn’t bad enough already.”

  Pax spreads his arms, and I accept his invitation for a hug. “Are you going to do something about it?”

  “No, or I’ll only become an even bigger target for them,” I whisper.

  “But you can’t just let them get away with it, Laney.”

  “I know. I just want it to stop.”

  “Jeez, Lane, you’re shaking,” he notes, shocked, hugging me even tighter.

  “It’s because I’m crying,” I admit, sniffling.

  “All right, whatever your plans were right now, you’re dropping them and coming with me so we can take your mind off things,” he tells me decidedly.

  “I can’t skip the rehearsal, I’ll get in trouble with the show.”

  “You really can’t cancel it?”

  I shake my head as I draw away from him. “I’ll make it through, and after . . . I’ll call you, OK?”

  “OK,” Pax says with a sigh. His hands are still resting on my arms.

  “I should go inside so I can get it over with quickly.”

  “Fine. How long are you going to be in there . . . ? I could wait here for you.”

  “An hour, maybe two.”

  “Great . . . I guess I’ll just wait for your call then.”

  I smile. “OK.”

  Pax gives me a kiss on the cheek, then wipes away a tear that is on its way over my cheek. “We’ll sort this out somehow.”

  I nod and turn away to get my sports bag out of the car. “See you later, then,” I tell him as I’m facing him again.

  “Right.” Pax gives me another brief hug before leaving for wherever. I watch him go for a moment, then I make my way over to the Dance Academy. We’re rehearsing near each of the dancers’ homes in turn. This time it’s mine.

  “Hey, Madeleine!” Byron calls to me as I come into the rehearsal room.

  “Hi guys,” I reply, trying hard to pretend to be in a good mood.

  “There you are, we’ve been waiting for you,” Davina gripes at me.

  I sigh. “I’m sorry, but there was an awful traffic jam.”

  “Sure you don’t mean you were jamming it up with Gavin McLeod?” she asks.

  I open my mouth to reply but stop before the words can escape. I don’t need to justify myself to her, or the others, either.

  “Yo
u’re such a bitch, Davina,” Patty, who is in our ensemble, mixes in.

  Davina shrugs. “All I’m doing is following the latest news, and that sounds pretty plausible.”

  Upon hearing that, I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right . . . There are no photos of Gavin and me apart from those from the show, but it’s oh so important what some random journalist comes up with.”

  “Touché!” Bryce, who is dancing with one of the female candidates, laughs.

  “So can we start now?” I inquire. “I’d like to get home on time.”

  “Your place or Gavin’s?” Davina keeps on provoking me.

  “Actually it’s going to be your boyfriend’s place, he’s amazing in bed,” I counter angrily. She’s so jealous that I’m honestly sorry for the guy, even though I’ve probably just gotten him into deep shit.

  “Oh, and how would you know?” she asks pointedly.

  I give her a victorious smile, denying her an answer. I don’t feel like picking a fight with her. If she thinks I’ve got something going on with Gavin, fine! But I’m definitely not going to say anything to confirm or deny it.

  “How would you know?” she presses again.

  “Oh, shut it, Davina. I don’t need these little games,” I answer.

  “So can we start already? I have other things to do, as well, and getting into downtown New York takes a while,” Bryce comments, annoyed.

  “Yeah, cut the cat fight,” Patty and Byron agree with him.

  “It isn’t my fault,” I reply and walk over to Bryce, who’s my partner in this show’s dance.

  “You know we’re dancing the broken tango, right?” Patty inquires.

  Bryce nods and takes up his position across from me. “We know.”

  I look at him. His light blond hair is falling into his face, and his bluish-green eyes make a strong contrast with his bronze skin.

  Patty goes to the stereo, and “Bust Your Windows” starts playing. Brooke danced to that tune when she was on the show. Almost all the beginning acts are danced to one of her songs.

  We walk toward each other, and then Bryce pulls me closer, dancing the practiced step sequence with me. It’s actually very similar to the dance shown in Step Up 3.