Like Heaven on Earth

by Jaime Samms

  Cobalt moaned and shuddered, feeling the pulse of his ass again, but the thought was not as unpleasant as he might have expected. He sat up and pulled his jeans back up before swinging his own feet to the floor. “Fine. I see you’re going to cost me a fortune. It’s a good thing I’m going back to full-time work.” He said it lightly, ignoring the trepidation in his gut.

  “Good for many reasons,” Preston said. He had pulled on his own pants as well, and now he slung an arm over Cobalt’s shoulder. “You’ll see.”

  He sounded so sure. Like it was nice to have Cobalt in his bed, but he wouldn’t miss him very much when he was hundreds of kilometers away. When Cobalt snuck a peek into Preston’s face, his heart caught at the sight. He had that gentle look again, soft and pleased, but his eyes….

  “Preston—”

  “Breakfast,” Preston gruffed. “Hungry.”

  “Come on, caveman.” Cobalt took his hand and led him gently from the room. Preston followed, quiet and, for the moment, pliant. Even as still as he suddenly was, though, he represented a wall of warmth and security at Cobalt’s back.

  It was going to be hard to give that up.

  Chapter 19

  “I DON’T know what to tell them.” Cobalt sat in the passenger seat of Preston’s car, hands clamped together in his lap. Parked on the curb outside the community center, he hesitated to get out and go inside, knowing he was about to shatter a few hearts by telling the group he had to put their performance on hold for the foreseeable future.

  “You tell them the truth,” Preston said.

  “Tell them I’m slinking back to an understudy position because ballet is all I know? All I’m good at?”

  “Tell them you have a chance to work professionally. Tell them you need to take some time for yourself, remember what it is you want from dance, and figure out how to get that.”

  “A little personal for a bunch of students, don’t you think?”

  “If they were kids, yes, I would agree with you. But they aren’t. They’re adults. Many of them have been down this path already and might have advice for you. And remember that you aren’t pulling the plug on the company. Just postponing the inaugural performance until you have a better idea what you want for the project as a whole.”

  “This whole thing means so much to Adam.”

  “Have you thought about letting him finish the pieces?”

  “Is he ready?”

  “You tell me.”

  “He’s still finding his feet with modern dance.”

  “I remember, when you watched his graduation piece, you said he had such a unique voice. He had things to say.”

  Cobalt nodded. “He was going places. Yes. He reminded me of all the good things Cal brings to the stage, none of the attitude or arrogance. He took ballet to a place that makes a lot of traditionalists uncomfortable.”

  “And none of that will translate to modern? I mean, I’m not a dancer. I just watch.”

  “If he truly embraces modern, then of course his outlook will find voice there.”

  “Then maybe he needs this too.”

  Cobalt remained quiet for a little while, contemplating. He didn’t doubt Adam had a knack for pulling the hard emotions from music and translating that into movement. But he was still finding his way after losing his ballet dream, and what if this was one push too far, too soon for him?

  “When that horse trampled me,” Preston said, breaking into his thoughts, “and I was in recovery thinking I never wanted to look at a horse again, your brother used to tell me something all the time. He said, ‘It isn’t the horse you’re afraid of.’ It drove me nuts, him saying that like he thought he knew what was going on in my head when I didn’t.”

  “Was he right?”

  “Don’t ever tell him I said this, but yes. He often is.”

  “Annoying, isn’t it?”

  Preston chuckled. “Your brother has a talent for being irritatingly right.”

  “But where would we be without him?” Cobalt glanced at Preston and smiled, faking the expression right up until Preston smiled back. When he did, Cobalt’s heart flung itself against his rib cage and he caught his breath, amazed, as always, that anyone would look at him like that.

  “I’d still be pining over you,” Preston told him, touching his cheek almost shyly.

  “Then I shall send Az flowers. Lots of them.” He rubbed his cheek against Preston’s fingertips. “He can make of that what he wants.”

  “His point about the horses was a good one, though,” Preston said, steering them back on topic. “I wasn’t afraid of the horses or of being able to ride again. The broken hip fucked up my leg and made it crooked, but I can ride, and I never doubted that I’d be able to.”

  “And so?” Cobalt bit his lower lip and stared once more out the windshield. “What were you afraid of?”

  “I was afraid I would never love it the same way again. That I would miss not being able to do it as well as I could before and resent everything about being less proficient. Az worried I would give up a thing that made my heart soar without even trying to get it back.”

  Cobalt nodded. “And you think that applies to Adam?”

  “Baby, I think it applies to both of you. One of the reasons I’m glad you’re doing this New York thing, even if I hate it too. You need to prove to yourself you can still do it.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  Preston took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “You’re going down there to find out what you can do.”

  “What if I can’t keep up with the younger dancers?”

  “Then come home. Baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

  It warmed Cobalt to hear him say it, like life would be the same no matter how badly he might crash and burn in New York. His constant, his rock, would never leave him with no support. Cobalt let out a sigh and nodded. It sure sounded good. It would be a different story when he was in it, but there was no way forward other than through the trial. He’d already made the decision.

  “And so you’re saying Adam is still holding back because modern isn’t ballet, and he’s worried he won’t love it the way he loved ballet.”

  “And if that’s the case, maybe what he needs is the push to immerse himself, no compromises, no backing out. Hand the choreography over to him, and the production itself over to Annie and Christopher, and trust them to create something you will be proud to present as your company’s debut performance.”

  “That’s a big ask. For all of us.”

  “It was really easy for me to say I was just the groom. Just the driver. Just the errand boy, when deep down, I wanted to be all in. To be yours, completely. The home you need when the rest is too big.”

  “And that’s what you are.” He turned to face Preston, taking in the big man’s soft expression, the darker worry in his eyes he tried to hide, the firm set to his jaw. “This scares me.”

  “Us?”

  The fluttering in Cobalt’s gut calmed. “No. That’s the one thing that makes the rest bearable. I could never go back there without you here. I couldn’t confront Cal or even, I think, open this dance company.”

  “That wasn’t me. I was just the errand—”

  Cobalt pressed a finger to his lips. “You’ve been much more than that for a long time, and we both know it.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I am scared, and I love that you are backing me up.” He blinked. “Tell me I can forget the whole thing. That I don’t have to go. Tell me you’ll support that too.”

  Preston pulled Cobalt close with a hand on the back of his head. He kissed him deeply, possessively. The cacophony of Cobalt’s fear melded into the chaotic noise in his head, the shattering sounds of too much and too fast that echoed through him, refusing to sort themselves out into a rhythm he could deal with, move to. Nothing Preston did could muffle the sounds of Cobalt’s own life careening out of his careful control.

  But Preston came with a music all his own. It was soft, thumping and steady, a he
artbeat under the rest that Cobalt could focus on. Finally the noise abated and he managed to pluck a single thread from the rest and listen to that alone.

  Like it had at the house, when the lurching sounds of Cal’s derision and demands had risen above the rest, a clarion note emerged. Then Cobalt had managed to gather the erratic beat into the simple steps of packing Cal’s things into boxes and piling them on the porch. Now, the single, clear tone singing above the rest let him relax into Preston’s steady hum, and listen.

  Tender to the last, Preston eased away to look into his eyes. “Well?”

  “I have to do this.”

  “You have to do this.” Preston smiled. Sad but determined. “We have to do this.”

  Cobalt nodded. “Are you coming inside?”

  “I can.”

  “Please.”

  “As you wish.”

  Cobalt frowned. “You keep saying that.”

  Preston’s only reply was a hearty laugh as he exited the car, then hurried around to open the door for Cobalt.

  Chapter 20

  COBALT WATCHED Adam as he studied Annie and another dancer mark out their choreography, waiting for the class to start. “I don’t understand.” Cobalt thought he sounded hurt.

  “What part?” Cobalt moved a little bit closer, hoping to keep the conversation private as long as possible. He wanted Adam on his side before he had to tell the rest of the group.

  “You’re taking off, but we’re in the middle of something here.” He met Cobalt’s gaze in the mirror. “We started something and you’re bailing? Going back? Aren’t you the one who told me you always had to move forward? Ballet is the past—”

  “Your past.”

  Adam frowned, deep lines appearing between his brows.

  “I—” Cobalt hitched in a breath, glancing to where Preston was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Cobalt let the breath out when Preston nodded to him but didn’t move. “I shouldn’t have said that. But please understand. I have to do this. I have to—take my life back. I let….” He gazed at the barre, envisioning his hand there, Cal’s covering it, the feel of Cal’s hard body at his back, his muscles caging Cobalt in. A vast memory of dance and love and sex tangled together until he could no longer move.

  He didn’t want that to be the image stuck in his head when he thought about dancing, or loving, or, for that matter, sex. He wanted to be free of the baggage. Free of the memories. He wanted to dance again, but more than that, he wanted to love dancing like he had before Cal and viruses and—

  “Cobalt?”

  He blinked and eased his stiff fingers from their grip on the barre. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and managed to meet Adam’s gaze, albeit still in the mirror. “The timing for this company is bad,” Cobalt admitted. “But that doesn’t change that this is a thing I have to do to move on with my life.” He bit his lip, glanced into the mirror past Adam and the other students to Preston again, and pulled in a deep breath. “With Preston.”

  “And that’s more important than what this performance means to the rest of us.”

  “For me? Yes.”

  Adam was quiet for a long time. He ran his hands back and forth along the barre, lips pursed, throat working. Cobalt didn’t dare look him in the eye.

  “That’s selfish,” Adam whispered.

  Cobalt’s heart sank.

  Adam turned from facing the mirror to facing Cobalt. “And what about Calvin Denvers?”

  “What about him?”

  “Is Preston going with you?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t understand. He’s here. You’ll be there. Your dance company is here. How is all that supposed to work?”

  “Home is here,” Cobalt assured him, unable to resist a quick glance back at the man in the doorway.

  “Then why?”

  It wasn’t any of Adam’s business why. But Cobalt knew Peridot would ask the same question. As would Conrad, when he learned he would have to find a new teacher for the modern classes at his studio. People would want to know. Not that Cobalt was obligated to share.

  He watched, silent, as Adam assumed an adequate but not quite professional-standard turnout in first position. He pliéd and lifted an arm over his head in an impeccable third position, resting the other hand on the barre. He turned his head and gazed sadly at Cobalt. Clearly he still missed his first love.

  “Come here.” Cobalt took the hand on the barre and led Adam out from the wall to allow more freedom of movement. “Do something for me.”

  Adam set his jaw but allowed Cobalt to manipulate his body until he was in fifth, arms in second. “Spin for me.”

  Adam frowned but spun a single elegant and poised turn that landed him back exactly where he had started.

  “Beautiful. Now in the other direction. Use your leg and drop down onto your flat foot at the end. Get that free leg out, like so.” He demonstrated.

  Adam nodded and did as he was told, swinging his free leg out in a wide arch from his body and ending with toe prettily pointed and the leg extended at an angle back and to his left.

  “Good. Now the same, but turn a half turn, and three beats, then roll in—”

  “Yes, I get it.” He sounded impatient, but he did the requested moves, continuing the dance to demonstrate a piece of choreography they had both witnessed at the studio. It had been a piece, choreographed by students, that Adam had said he wished could have been bolder. Braver.

  Cobalt hurried to the CD player and popped a CD in, hit Play, and nodded at Adam. “Again, but this time don’t stop. Just do whatever the music tells you to do.” He clapped and counted to eight, then nodded, and Adam spun, flinging his arms out from his sides as he neared the end of the spin, free foot planting, flat and firm, giving him a new pivot point. He swung halfway around, took a few running steps, and launched himself into the air as the music swelled up and out. He landed, flowing right down into a roll that spun him back to his feet and once more around in a viciously aggressive series of half steps and pirouettes. His chest heaved and his hair dusted across his eyes when he stopped.

  Around the room, the other dancers clapped. Matt grinned wildly and wolf whistled.

  “That’s why,” Cobalt said. “Because that is what you and I both want.” He closed ranks again and drew Adam out of the center of the other dancers’ attention. “Because ballet stole a piece of your heart, and you need to get it back. I make it easy for you to lean on my choreography and be safe, not try too hard, not fall in love again.”

  “You’re not going to New York for me.”

  “I’m going for me. Because Cal stole a piece of me, and I want it back.” His eyes stung, but he managed to meet Adam’s gaze. “I let him take the dance and twist it into something I became afraid of. It’s been easy for me to let this company become a surrogate. My safe place. And it would be even easier for me to let Preston be that too. But that isn’t fair to him, and I want my life back. I want my love back. And maybe I fail miserably and come home with nothing.”

  “Preston’s not going anyplace.”

  “No, that is true. Maybe that’s what makes me brave enough to finally try. But I do have to try, and now is my chance. So that’s where it involves you. Finish the choreography we talked about last week. Finish the other pieces. Annie can clean and polish. Christopher can organize the logistics of the show itself. That’s about tickets and advertising and the rest.” He waved a hand vaguely in the air. “I was never going to do any of that shit anyway. He can organize all that. Preston will help if you ask.” He smiled. “No better use for a trust fund my family never wanted me to have, if I was determined to dance, than to bankroll my new dance company. Preston can oversee the budget through me or Azure.”

  “You want us to run your entire show?”

  “I want you to find the heart of that dance and make it work. The company was never really about me. Not entirely.”

  “You’ve thought this through. You’re not going to back out.”
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  “I can’t.”

  “And you trust me with the vision for your inaugural show?”

  “Adam, you’re the one who told me the dance wasn’t working. That it was missing something. You saw it before I did, and I think you can fix it. You want this as much as I want to get back onto the ballet floor. Even if all I do there is realize that part of my life is over and done with, I have to know for sure.”

  Adam heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I hate you right now.”

  Cobalt flinched.

  “I’ll probably get over it. Have you told Perry?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m going to hate you again when you do. He wants to skin Calvin Denvers alive as it is.”

  Cobalt snickered. “He’s a good friend.”

  “He should have kicked that asshole’s ass years ago.”

  “I should have kicked him out of my life years ago. It’s done now.”

  “Except for the part where you’re going down there to dance with him.”

  “I’m going to dance for me. The only thing I’m doing with him is breaking up officially and permanently.”

  Adam met his gaze. “Good. Fine. So you’d better give all the notes you have to give tonight, because after that, the show is mine. I want enough control to make decisions.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I can ask Perry’s help?”

  “Of course. He’s your partner. I would never expect otherwise.”

  “And Conrad?”

  Cobalt nodded. It was a huge thing Cobalt was dumping on such young shoulders. It was only fair to expect he would ask for input from both his boyfriend, who was a dance teacher and former professional himself, and his former instructor/current boss. “I want the show to be a success. I think you can choreograph powerful pieces, but no one works in a vacuum. I expect collaboration. I trust you, or I wouldn’t be asking this of you.”