Kissing the Debutant (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 3)

by Michelle MacQueen

  “Me, Mia, and maybe Wylder and a few others. You seriously need some fun in your life, and a night of unstructured dancing will help wipe the slate clean. From now on, you’re officially on a break from ballet.”

  “No, I can’t do that, Jack. I have to keep up with my training.”

  “Nope, you and ballet are not friends anymore. You’re breaking up, taking some time apart. Then when you return to it, you’ll know.” He shrugged as if it were that easy. He knew it would be one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but he also knew she could do it.

  “I’ll know what?”

  “If you love it enough to make it your life.”

  12

  Lillian

  “Lil, what is that on your head?” Wylder let herself into Lillian’s room.

  “What?” Lillian turned to check her face in the mirror. Running her hands over her hair, she couldn’t find anything wrong.

  “Seriously?” Wylder shook her head.

  “What? Do I have food in my teeth?”

  “You cannot go to the club with your hair in a bun, wearing a stuffy sweater and old lady slacks.”

  “I am not wearing old lady pants.” Lillian checked her reflection in the mirror again. What was wrong with her outfit?

  “Sit.” Wylder pointed to the chair in front of Lillian’s desk.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” Lillian tried to swat her hand away, but Wylder snagged the hair tie from her bun, and Lillian’s hair tumbled down around her shoulders.

  “The bun is adorable when you’re sporting your leotards and tutus and whatnot, but that’s where I draw the line. You have gorgeous hair, Lil.” She ran her fingers through Lillian’s long blond tresses. “It’s time to show it off.”

  “Fine, I’ll wear it down.” In her mind it didn’t matter what she wore or what her hair looked like. Tonight was just another practice.

  “Good, hold still.” Wylder moved in front of her, blocking Lillian’s view of the mirror on her desk. “Close your eyes.”

  “Now what are you doing?”

  “Just a little mascara and lip gloss, and you’ll be good to go.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you you’re irritating?”

  “As a matter of fact, lots of people tell me that.” Wylder didn’t seem to think that was a bad thing. “Now we just need a change of clothes.”

  “My clothes are fine, Wylder.” Lillian tried to shoo her out of her room, but Wylder was like a bumblebee zooming around her closet.

  “Who does your shopping? Your mom?” Wylder called from the closet.

  “Yes. Well, her personal shopper does.”

  “We need to get your shopper on the phone and make sure she knows you’re not a forty-five-year-old divorcee. Good thing I brought a few outfits with me because you literally have nothing I can work with. Except the shoes. You have great boots.”

  “You’re making this way harder than it needs to be. This is just about practicing tonight. It’s not a social thing.”

  “It’s a dance club, Lil. That’s like the definition of a social gathering.”

  “I’m not wearing that.” Lillian shot down the skimpy black dress Wylder came at her with. It would look great on Wylder’s petite frame. Not so much for Lillian with her long limbs. “I’m going to need a little more fabric than that.”

  “Here, put these on.” She tossed Lillian a pair of skinny jeans. “They’re too long on me so they should be just right on you. Wear those tall black boots of yours too.”

  Lillian ducked into her closet to change. She learned a long time ago that it was best to just let Wylder have her way. It was far less painful than arguing with her.

  “I actually like this.” Lillian turned in front of her closet mirror. “Makes the sweater look much better.”

  “Oh no, take that baggy sweater off. That’s cute for an afternoon coffee date, but not for tonight. Put this on.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Lillian shook her head.

  “Totally serious.”

  “Where’s the back?” Lillian held up the scrap of sparkly silver fabric.

  “It doesn’t have one.”

  “What about my bra? Does it hang out the back for all the world to see?”

  “No, silly.” Wylder shooed her back into the closet. “You don’t wear a bra.”

  “No way.” Lillian refused.

  “Just slip it on, and then decide if you like it or not.”

  “Slip it on how?” Lillian studied the thin straps.

  “Oh, just turn around and take your sweater off.”

  Wylder tossed the halter-top over Lillian’s head and tied the satin straps snug around her waist to hold it in place. “See, you look hot, and it’s not going anywhere.”

  Lillian wrapped her arms across her middle, feeling far too exposed to go out in public. “I don’t know about this, Wylder.”

  “I promise, I wouldn’t let you go out if you didn’t look better in that top than I do. Jack’s eyes are going to pop out of his head when he sees you.”

  “Why?” Lillian frowned at her pesky neighbor. “He has a girlfriend.”

  “Who, Mia?”

  “Yeah, she’s coming too.” Lillian glanced nervously at herself in the mirror. She’d never worn anything like this before. Her mother would have a fit if she saw her. That thought alone made her want to wear it. “All right, let’s just do this.”

  “Wait here while I check the hall.” Wylder darted out of her room.

  “Let’s go, hall’s clear.” Wylder returned a moment later, waving her through the door. “We’re taking the stairs down to the basement tonight.”

  “Basement? There’s a basement? Why tonight?” Lillian moved quickly to keep up with Wylder.

  “You know, it amazes me how you academy kids just don’t have a clue. You guys miss all the best stuff about this place.”

  “You’re an academy kid too, Wylder.”

  “I am not the same species as you guys.” Wylder tossed her dreadlocks over her shoulder as they made their way down the stairs to a dark and damp basement Lillian didn’t realize existed.

  “Where are we going?” It was too dark to see much of anything.

  “It’s Friday night and security is extra irritating on Friday nights, so we have to be more careful. There’s a door down here that leads to the back of the building near the gate to the visitor parking lot.” Wylder guided her across the cold, dark room and up a flight of crumbling brick steps in relative darkness, guided by the light of her phone. “We just wait here for… four minutes for security shift change to start.”

  “You know everything about this place, don’t you?” Lillian whispered.

  “Everything.” Wylder tapped her foot, waiting for the last few minutes to tick down. “Okay, time to bolt.” She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, grabbed Lillian’s hand, and ran.

  The chilly breeze reminded Lillian she wasn’t wearing nearly enough clothes, but Wylder dragged her through the darkness, across the overgrown lawn to the creaky iron gate no one ever used.

  “There’s a lockbox. What are we going to do?” Lillian glanced at Wylder in the moonlight.

  “Come on, give me some credit, girl. I’ve got this.” Wylder punched in a code on the digital lockbox and pushed through the gate.

  “You have your own code? How did you manage that?” Lillian trailed along behind her, wondering if Wylder had a future in espionage.

  “I can’t give away all my secrets. Come on, Jack’s waiting for us just down the main driveway.

  Lillian hugged the wall along the edge of the dance floor, the bright lights and deafening music were much more than she’d expected. This was so not her scene. And Jack wouldn’t stop staring at her. Even with Mia at his side.

  “What are we waiting for?” Wylder grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the dance floor.

  “I don’t know. I need a minute.” Lillian shrank back into the shadows.

  “Don’t be a wallflower, Lil. You’re the bes
t dancer in this room, and you look amazing. Nothing to be self-conscious about.”

  “I just need a minute.”

  “Come on, I promise we’ll take it slow. Just follow my lead. Forget you’re a dancer, and just do what I do.” Wylder turned around and shimmied through the crowd at the edge of the dance floor. She chose a spot out of the way and threw her hands up in the air and swayed with the music.

  Lillian tried to mimic her movements, but she felt ridiculous and out of her element.

  “There you go!” Wylder cheered. “Now let’s add some hip action.” She popped her hip from side to side, twirling in a circle, but she never strayed from Lillian’s side.

  Little by little, Lillian relaxed and found her footing, grateful to Wylder for sticking with her when she had no reason to. Was that what it was like to have friends?

  “Show us some moves, Lil.” Wylder hopped on one foot and waved her fist in the air. She had the kind of rhythm Lillian just didn’t have outside the ballet arena.

  “This isn’t really my style,” Lillian confessed, watching Mia and Jack out of the corner of her eye. They looked like they were having a blast. Mia definitely wasn’t up to his level of skill but they still looked good together. “I don’t think I can do this.” She shook her head, panic rising in her chest.

  “Of course, you can. You just need the right partner.” Wylder shot her a devilish wink before she turned her around and shoved her toward Jack.

  Mia flashed her a smile and moved off to dance with strangers, clearly in her element.

  “You look scared to death.” Jack caught her hands and tugged her closer. “Don’t overthink it, Lil, I’ve got you.” He slipped his hand around her waist and sent her twirling. Muscle memory took over, and Lillian went up on the balls of her feet, turning faster until Jack pulled her back in and lifted her into another turn before he set her down.

  Someone whistled, and the crowd pulled away from them.

  “What are they doing?” She glanced around at the onlookers.

  “Giving us room to show off.” Jack led her into the familiar steps they’d spent hours trying to perfect.

  “Not here!” Fear lanced through Lillian. She still couldn’t land the jumps yet.

  “You think too much.” Jack grinned as they sailed through the footwork, side by side and landed the first jump before she had time to even think about it.

  Jack’s laughter set her at ease, and the cheers and whistles from the crowd boosted her confidence. Maybe she could actually do this. It wouldn’t kill her to take a ballet break like Jack suggested. Lillian didn’t know what her future would hold, but she knew her future was in her own hands for once. It was time to cut loose, maybe find the joy in dancing again, and see where she ended up.

  13

  Jack

  All Jack wanted was for Lillian to let go for one night. He assumed the setting of the all-ages club would loosen her up enough that she’d grow comfortable dancing with him.

  What he hadn’t expected was for her to show up looking like that.

  Lillian was always beautiful with her pale skin and dancer’s body, but there was usually something holding her back, some look in her eye that made her seem distant.

  As the night wore on, he saw that look fade away, witnessed her actually enjoying herself—not like she’d admit it.

  The song ended, and she stood staring at him, her chest heaving, and one corner of her mouth twisting up into a reluctant smile.

  Dang. He ran a hand through his hair. Beautiful wasn’t the right word for Lillian Preston.

  Mesmerizing. Yeah, that was more like it.

  She came from a completely different world than Jack, and when they finished his video and her competition dance, they’d part ways and go back to their respective lives. But for these moments when they weren’t focused on solo goals, they were in this together. Their deal was a pact tying them to each other.

  Lillian’s lips moved, but he didn’t hear her words. “What?”

  “I’m thirsty.”

  “Oh, I’ll get you a drink. Water?” She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d guzzle down a soda.

  She shook her head. “I can get it myself.” Turning on her heel, she walked toward the bar.

  Jack chased after her, pushing through the crowded dance floor. She couldn’t help herself, could she? She had to do everything for herself and couldn’t accept him being nice. “You go find Wylder and Mia. It’ll only take a minute.”

  Steel entered her gaze as she looked sideways at him. A new song started up, pulsing through the club. “I’ve got it.”

  He didn’t know why he couldn’t back down, why he didn’t just turn around and let her get her own drink. Maybe it was because for a few moments while they’d danced, tonight had felt like more than an exercise in letting loose, more than dance partners trying to get comfortable with each other.

  Someone bumped into him from behind, spilling sticky soda over his shoulder before mumbling an apology and continuing on his way.

  Lillian’s gaze softened. “Are you okay?” She reached out to touch the wet streak on his shoulder but curled her fingers in before they made contact.

  Someone jostled into her, shoving her closer to him. He grabbed her arm. “Come on.” Pulling her from the crowded dance floor, he didn’t release her until they had space to back away from each other. Under the bright lights, his sticky polo shirt was more evident.

  Lillian’s brow furrowed as if she was debating with herself. Releasing a breath, she jerked her head toward the bathrooms. “Come on.”

  He should have stayed behind, should have protested as she pushed open the swinging door marked “ladies” and checked to make sure no one was in there. A redhead exited, barely glancing at Lillian before settling viper eyes on Jack. He averted his gaze, uncomfortable with her stare, until she walked past them.

  “Coast is clear. Come on.”

  And that was how Jack found himself in the ladies’ room with the last person on earth he’d expected to care about his wet shirt or him in general.

  Lillian pulled paper towels free of the dispenser and wadded them up before turning on the faucet and wetting them. She didn’t meet Jack’s gaze until she turned and pressed the wet paper towels to his shirt. “Being wet is one thing,” she said, her voice low, unsure. “But you don’t want to be sticky.”

  There were so many things he could have said to that, but he couldn’t speak as she dabbed the paper towels along the collar of his shirt and up the back of his neck.

  “If that guy hadn’t been so tall, you wouldn’t currently have soda in your hair.” She smiled up at him, a completely unguarded and un-Lillian like smile he wasn’t prepared for.

  “It was all part of my plan.” His mouth hooked up into a half smile. “Find the tallest guy in the club, get him to not only dump his soda, but splash it up into my hair, and end up alone in the bathroom with the prettiest girl in the club.” His brain short-circuited as the words left his mouth. He’d been trying to make a joke, but it came out sounding suspiciously like a confession instead.

  She pulled her hand away, and he instantly missed it.

  What was happening? Only days ago, Lillian was the frustrating girl who couldn’t take direction. But from the moment he’d realized her life wasn’t all puppies and rainbows, he’d wanted to show her it could be. That not everyone saw her as a means to an end like her mother.

  Except, wasn’t that the only reason they were even in each other’s orbits now? They needed each other. Nothing more.

  “Your skin isn’t sticky anymore.” She shrugged, ignoring what he’d said to her. “But I’m afraid your shirt is a lost cause for the night.”

  He glanced down at the navy blue polo he’d bought second hand. It wasn’t exactly his style, but something had him wanting to look like the academy kids for the first time, to prove he could fit in with them. “This shirt was probably already a lost cause.” Because who was he kidding? He wasn’t one of them and
never would be. He imagined the kinds of guys normally vying for the attentions of someone like Lillian.

  They didn’t have to beg and plead for a single night off from watching their siblings while their parents worked.

  They didn’t have to count on their friends to chauffeur them around when he didn’t have money for gas.

  There were no mops in their hands, no cleaning chemicals drying their skin.

  Lillian was staring at him, waiting for him to say something more. He lifted a hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. There was only one thing he could say. “Dance with me.”

  “What?” She lifted one perfect brow. “We just danced. Remember? Clapping? Cheering? Apparently, the people here like our routine.”

  “I’m not talking about performing the steps we’ve learned or putting on a show. Just dancing. No plan, no jumps or ballet moves. You. Me. And the music.”

  “I’m not sure I know how to do that,” she whispered, looking intimidated by the prospect.

  “Do you trust me?” He didn’t have a right to ask. They barely knew each other as more than star dancer and janitor. But he needed her to say yes, to prove this partnership could actually succeed.

  Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, considering her words, her actions, carefully as she always did. Her eyes never left his face as she saw through him, drawing out everything he was. At least, that was how it felt.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she nodded. Slowly, so slowly. As if she couldn’t quite believe her own answer.

  A smile spread across his lips. “Good. That’s good.” He reached for her hand, and she let him. “Come on.”

  Forgotten was the sticky shirt and the thirst that had them going to the bar in the first place. They walked from the bathroom, past the line of girls waiting to get in. The surrounding crowd faded into the background as Jack released Lillian’s hand. She clasped it with her other one, her eyes darting away as her entire body froze.

  “Trust me, Lil.” That was why they’d come, what they needed from each other. A level of trust, of comfort was a requirement between dance partners. But this was more than that. So much more. He reached for her, slipping his hand around her waist. “Trust me.” He pulled her closer, and her body relaxed.