Like Heaven on Earth

by Jaime Samms

  “It’s big.”

  “You can do it.”

  Adam was silent a long time, absently watching the other dancers, who surreptitiously glanced their way every now and then.

  “I believe in you, Adam.”

  Adam met his eye. “What about you? What if you can’t?”

  “I won’t change my mind about this show, no matter how New York goes. I swear.”

  “Promise me if New York doesn’t work, you don’t give up.”

  That sent Cobalt back a step in surprise. “Sorry?”

  “I was going to give up. I was changing oil and listening to my father’s country music station, ready to gouge a screwdriver into my eardrums. You didn’t let me mire myself under the grease. You made me come here and try, even when I didn’t want to. If you go back to that life and it doesn’t work, don’t quit on me. On this.” He pointed at the floor. “This is where I dance now, and I’m not ready to start all over.”

  “Don’t put your eggs in my basket, sugar.”

  “I already did. Not all of them. But some. The best ones. It’s a good basket.”

  “Then don’t drop it while I’m gone.”

  “Sure.” With a roll of his eyes and a chuckle, Adam seemed to have made his decision. “I guess you’d better tell the others, then.”

  “Yeah.”

  Drawing in a deep, new breath, Cobalt turned to face Preston. He lifted his chin and prodded his lover in the soft layer of his gut. “You going to stand there all night? Or make yourself useful?”

  “What do you need?”

  “Reservations someplace nice. Conrad and Dusty, Peridot and Adam, and Azure all in one place.” He grimaced. “Might as well drop the bomb on the rest of them at the same time, and Az will keep them from trampling me.”

  “Az?” That split eyebrow lifted, and Preston eyed him.

  “And you.” He almost leaned into Preston, languishing against his generosity of strength, but instead he straightened his spine and sniffed. “Of course you.”

  “Always. But you don’t have to worry. Your friends will support you.”

  “In many things, yes. This will look like I’m running back to him.”

  Clamping a large hand around his wrist, Preston pulled him closer and glared down at him. “It most certainly will not look anything like that. Not with me at your side.”

  “It will go down better if I buy them delicious food, though.”

  That got him a sage nod. “Not going to deny that.”

  “Suit and tie, baby, yes?” Cobalt flicked the collar of Preston’s plaid shirt. “Just this once.”

  Preston pulled him close, kissed him, and nodded. “As you wish.”

  Someday Cobalt was going to have to ask him why he kept saying that.

  Chapter 21

  NEW YORK was massively bigger and taller than Cobalt remembered. Everything was too close, towering over him, and he thought if he could get away with it, he might have turned around and crawled back into the car.

  “You can do this,” Preston told him, standing at his back as he stared at the doors to the rehearsal hall.

  “I know.” He had to do it. He was here and it was too late to back out.

  “You want me to come in with you?”

  “No.” He squared his shoulders and turned to face his lover. “Take the stuff to the apartment Az rented. I’ve arranged for storage until I can talk to Cal. When I’m done here, I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

  “I can come pick you up.”

  “No.” Cupping Preston’s face, Cobalt let the warmth of skin-to-skin contact seep through him. “I have to do this, and we already agreed. You’re not driving me around anymore. It’s not your job.”

  “It actually is—”

  “Not anymore. Your job is to look after my dog and my house and answer the phone when I call.”

  “None of that is work, baby.”

  For many long, uneasy moments, they stared, until Cobalt couldn’t breathe or look away.

  “You’re okay.” Preston took both Cobalt’s wrists in his hands and gripped tight. “Take a breath.” His voice ground through the high whine of nerves in Cobalt’s head, making him blink. “That’s better.” Transferring one of Cobalt’s hands so Preston had them both in one iron grip, he ran the other through Cobalt’s hair until he had a firm grip on the spikes. He tilted Cobalt’s head back enough their lips met, and suddenly Cobalt’s world righted. The white noise faded away. Everything faded away for those few heartbeats that Preston held him firm.

  “What. The. Hell.”

  CALVIN’S VOICE cut through the calm moment, and Preston braced himself, reluctant to part as Cobalt dragged away from him slightly. When Preston flexed his fingers around Cobalt’s wrists, indicating he wanted to keep him close, a small pop of breath broke over his throat where Cobalt nestled.

  “That didn’t take you long, did it, you skinny little whore?” Cal whispered as he passed, pushing his face in close so his words carried only to them.

  “Ignore him,” Preston warned.

  Cobalt leaned on him for the barest of moments before he straightened and gave the slightest tug of his hands, and Preston had to let him go.

  “It took me far, far too long, darling,” Cobalt said, voice strong, back straight as he snatched up his dance bag and strode past Cal. “Come along, Calvin. Show me what I’m to learn.” He glanced over his shoulder when he got to the door. “And do try to keep up, darling. I don’t have a lot of time.” He winked at Preston. “I’ve got someplace to be tonight.”

  Preston smiled back and nodded. Warmth settled deep in his gut at the sight of Cobalt standing up to Cal’s viciousness. He hoped it would last, but he would be prepared to bolster him however he had to when Cobalt returned to their room at the hotel that evening.

  While Cobalt spent a few hours filling out paperwork and watching a run-through of the show he was there to learn, Preston toured the neighborhood where Cobalt would live. The hotel room was for one night. Preston wanted to see where his lover would live, but Cobalt had insisted on not having the memory of Preston’s presence to shore him up. He was determined to do it all on his own terms and under his own power.

  It didn’t matter if Preston thought that was a mistake; it was what Cobalt thought he needed. All Preston could do was wait and be there if it all fell apart, or congratulate him if it worked. He hoped it worked.

  When he drove up in front of the apartment building Azure had chosen for his brother’s living arrangements, he was impressed. He wasn’t as sure Cobalt would appreciate the splash the building made at street level, but he was more than happy that even in the heart of such a huge city, Cobalt would be living in a better neighborhood than he did at home.

  He climbed out of the car, and a valet driver appeared to take the keys and hand him a small plastic tag.

  “I’m only going to have a glance at the lobby.”

  “I’ll park the car, sir.”

  “I don’t really need you. I won’t be long.”

  The man just smiled and held out his hand. “It’s fine, sir.”

  “Whatever.” Preston handed over the keys and took the tag, stuffing it in his jeans pocket as he headed inside. He wasn’t even surprised to see Azure lounging serenely in a chair in the lobby.

  “About time, Mal,” Azure said, setting aside the paper he had been reading. “What took you so long?”

  “I’m afraid the highway is a slight bit more winding than the route your private jet took.”

  “I offered Coby a lift.”

  “And you know he was never going to take it.”

  “Certainly not when the alternative was a long drive in your company.”

  It was annoying that the statement made Preston blush, but it was also true. “Has the moving van arrived, then?”

  Azure nodded. “The men brought Cobalt’s things up this morning. I paid for a room for them and parking for the van overnight until we have a delivery address for Calvin’s things.”
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  “He said there was storage.”

  “I won’t let him drag this out.”

  “Don’t try and control him. He won’t like it.”

  “He only likes your control?” Azure peered up at him, eyebrows lifted, lips curled in a knowing smirk.

  “Not your business.”

  “That is true. And you’re right, of course. And while I get him not wanting his current boyfriend involved in the dissolution of his previous relationship, I’m his big brother. I can offer a safer kind of backup.”

  Preston cocked his head, unsure what he meant.

  “He doesn’t have to be nice to me. I won’t ever stop being his big brother.”

  “I can—”

  “No. You’ve got one night to settle him in, and I won’t have the pair of you mucking about with that idiot.”

  “Cobalt won’t let you do it for him,” Preston warned. Any more than he’ll let me see his new place until he’s made it his completely.

  “Of course he doesn’t have to deal with it. Cal has clearly lost his mind. I won’t let my little brother face that monster—”

  “You won’t stop him.” Preston forgot the blush and his own disappointment of not being allowed to christen the new apartment. “He’ll do what he thinks he has to do to put Cal in his past. Neither you nor I can do any of it for him.”

  “He’ll listen to—”

  “I won’t let you make the argument. He wants to confront Cal, and we’ll let him do what he feels he needs to.”

  “He’ll listen to me. It’s best he doesn’t go anywhere near Cal if he doesn’t have to.”

  “No, sir, he won’t, because you are not going to make the argument to him.”

  “Sir, is it?” Azure stood to face Preston, a fist on his hip, a scowl on his face. “What’s going on?”

  “He wants to talk to Calvin on his own, and that’s what we will let him do.”

  “You think that’s safe?”

  “It will be as safe as I can make it, but we won’t interfere. Cobalt needs to do this on his own. He needs to know he can do it on his own.”

  “That why he won’t let you even see the place?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “I have to be. It’s what he wants, and—”

  “Don’t let him push you around, Mal.”

  “That’s what Cal did. Cal made him feel like he couldn’t do any of it on his own, that he didn’t deserve happiness, that he wasn’t strong enough. I won’t step in and take the same role, even if I’m coming from a place of kindness. To him, it will feel the same. He has to know he’s strong enough to do this.”

  “And if he fails?”

  “Then he has to know he’s strong enough to fail, and that we’re strong enough to let him. I want him to understand it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I want him, whatever happens here. But I will take him on his own terms. That’s how it has to be if I am to get anything at all. If it’s going to mean anything.”

  “You’ve really thought this through.”

  Preston picked up Azure’s discarded newspaper and the coat he had draped over the arm of an adjacent chair. He motioned toward the door to the street. “Someone once told me being trampled by a horse didn’t make the horse the thing to be afraid of. I believed him, and it turned out he was right.”

  “Yes, but a horse doing what he is predisposed to do doesn’t make him a malicious animal. Calvin Denvers is vicious to the core.”

  “You didn’t underestimate my strength back then, when I could barely walk or remember my own name for more than five minutes. Don’t underestimate your brother now. He’s a lot stronger than you think.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I just know.”

  Chapter 22

  BY THE end of June, it wasn’t Cobalt’s strength anyone questioned. In just over a month, he had regained years of conditioning, and he had no trouble keeping up with, or surpassing, many of the younger dancers, Calvin included.

  Cobalt had related to Preston the discussions between the director of the company, the backers, and the resident physical therapist, all of whom had doubted he would be able to do it. It had been the choreographer who wanted Cobalt to dance the part, feeling he had a maturity Calvin couldn’t bring.

  Cobalt had proved his naysayers wrong, revealed his own strength and the work he’d already put into getting back in shape, and danced his way to where being asked to join the tour seemed like it might be a real possibility.

  Preston couldn’t have been prouder of his lover, or more surprised at his own lack of fortitude. He missed the man like crazy and wanted him home.

  The kitchen window and floor were fixed. The old plumbing had been replaced, the leaky faucets switched out. He had built a sturdy dog-proof fence around the backyard for Chance and reported three more incidents with the neighborhood kids to the authorities.

  Surprisingly, it had been one of the Pittaluga twins—Preston never could figure out which one was Andy and which was Danny—who had caught a kid rooting through an old Ford truck in their parts yard and pointed out a poorly healed slash on the kid’s palm. The kid, Roger, had copped to scaring Cobalt’s dog out of the yard and been given about a million hours of community service for that and his attempted robbery at the body shop.

  Mr. Pittaluga Sr. had volunteered to supervise those hours through the community outreach operation he ran on weekends. He had used a chunk of his wife’s life insurance to create a small foundation for teaching youth in the community about car engines and had been granted a not-for-profit license to take donations toward the endeavor.

  He was currently teaching Roger how to rebuild an ancient American-built engine, in between having him sweep both shops and maintain the grounds, repaint both shops, and various other manual labor jobs that kept Roger out of trouble. Roger refused to give up any of the kids who had been with him the night he’d cut Chance’s collar, but it had been a few weeks since anyone had thrown rocks at Cobalt’s house or insults at Preston, so maybe the problem was solved. He could always hope.

  Preston had also made a new set of stairs to replace the rickety ones leading to the basement, whitewashed all the walls and floors, checked for leaks, and installed good lighting. Previous owners had dug out the floor and replaced the concrete, so there was enough height for Preston to move his workout equipment in.

  He’d even begun construction of a second bathroom down there and had just shown out the contractor who had dug the trench for the plumbing to connect to the waste stack. They would have a second toilet, a shower stall, and sink, and Preston was pretty sure he could install a small electric steam room. The house was transforming under his care, and he enjoyed the puttering.

  Chance had finally overcome his overwhelming fear of the outdoors, though he still refused the lead. The fence seemed to make him more comfortable outside, but he still didn’t want to be out there alone and refused to allow the leash or lead to be attached to his collar once he realized he could go out the back door right into the safely fenced yard. He still wouldn’t leave the house alone, even to the backyard. Preston had to go out with him. He didn’t like walks and didn’t trust children. Preston had some ideas of how to reintroduce him to young people he knew would be safe for the dog, but he had yet to approach the Pittalugas about his idea.

  Talking to Adam invariably meant hearing about how the show was coming together, and that only reminded him how far away Cobalt was. He’d expected to have to lend his lover his own strength. He hadn’t anticipated being the weak one. It was a new and uncomfortable position to be in.

  It didn’t help that every conversation with Cobalt brought the reality closer to home that he might not be back anytime soon. He was ostensibly understudying Cal, and wouldn’t need to be at every show once he had learned the dance. Unfortunately, the more Cobalt observed of Cal’s dancing, the more Cobalt worried that “understudy” was a vast understatement of his role w
ith the company.

  “He can’t keep up, Preston,” Cobalt said. His voice, or perhaps the line, cracked, and Preston fought to keep his own throat from closing.

  “And?” he asked. It sounded harsh. His voice grated over the word, and he tried to clear the gravel without the sound carrying over the phone’s speaker. He was so sick of hearing how hard things were for Calvin.

  He set the phone on the coffee table, hit the Speaker button, and picked up the doorknob he had been trying to dismantle. Someone had bent the shafts of the bedroom door handle, and he wanted to salvage the glass knob to put on the new mechanism.

  “I just—I worry, that’s all. He used to be so strong.”

  “At what point did Calvin Denvers’s strength, or lack thereof, become something we worried about? If he can’t keep up, that only means more performances for you.” And less worry for me.

  If Calvin was using all the energy he had dancing, he didn’t have any to spare making Cobalt’s life miserable. It had been all Preston could do to keep Azure out of New York for the first few weeks, when Cobalt’s constant phone calls had been fraught with ill-concealed hurt and anger over the asshole’s snide remarks and rough conduct. Hell, it had been all he’d managed not to go back there himself and haul Cobalt home by the scruff of the neck.

  Now, he refused to think about the fact that more performances meant less time at home for Cobalt. Less time Preston got to be with him. That wasn’t the point of this endeavor at all, and he kept the hurt of it to himself. He’d said he’d support this, and he would. After all, he’d waited years already. What were a few more?

  “More performances, sure,” Cobalt said quietly. “But that isn’t why I came here. And I know you hate him. I don’t blame you. But he and I—Preston, I didn’t just stop caring—”

  “He’s your ex.” He twisted at the knobs, but the rusted screw held fast and the handle refused to separate from the bent shaft.

  “But he’s still a part of—”

  “And he hurt you. So many ways.” Snatching up a screwdriver, Preston jabbed at the offending screw.