Love on Pointe Omnibus

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Love on Pointe Omnibus Page 3

by Colette Davison


  The way her eyebrows pinched together told him that Adam probably didn't feel the same way. Did Adam still hate him for all the stupid things he'd said and done? There was only one way to find out. The dose of courage from his first deep breath had vanished, thanks to his mum's interruption, so he took another and then strode into the kitchen.

  He exhaled sharply as soon as he saw Adam, the fucked-up emotions immediately swirling within him, even though he'd hoped to God they wouldn't.

  His younger stepbrother was in the process of setting the table. He was wearing skinny jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt, which clung to his defined muscles and showed off his lithe body. Fuck. He was even hotter than he'd been at twenty, when Luc had last seen him. His dark hair was spiked with gel. His face was half angles, half soft lines, from his long, straight nose, to his sharp, high cheekbones and his round jaw and thick lips.

  Shit. Luc jerked his gaze away and stared down at the floor. He couldn't let himself think that way about Adam. He shifted his jeans as surreptitiously as he could and then pulled out a chair and sat down, shuffling as far under the table as he could, to hide his wildly inappropriate desire.

  "Hi," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as high-pitched in reality as it had in his head. He forced himself to lift his head and look directly at his stepbrother.

  Adam glared at him, his dark eyes smouldering with barely concealed anger. "Hi." He thumped a plate down on the placemat in front of Luc. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he turned away and started to make drinks.

  Well fuck. Adam did still hate him. Not that Luc could blame him and, in many ways, that would probably make things easier. If Adam had been cheerful and friendly, Luc wouldn't have had any excuse to avoid him. He needed to stay away from his stepbrother. He needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, just like he'd done from the moment he'd realised he was attracted to him.

  Luc still remembered the exact second he'd realised he felt something stronger than brotherly love for Adam. Even at fourteen, he'd known no one—especially not Adam—would understand. Nor would anyone care about the four letters that made his attraction fractionally less wrong. They were stepbrothers. Their parents had married when he was six; Adam had been five. They'd grown up together. Called each other's parents Mum and Dad. Called each other brother. And, for the longest of times, they'd been closer than any biological siblings he knew. He'd hoped, prayed, that his feelings for Adam would have vanished in the four years they'd been apart, but his aching cock told him otherwise. If he was going to stay and help his parents, he was going to have to get his lust under control. Quickly.

  Chapter Four

  Adam

  Being civil was going to be harder than Adam had anticipated. Just the sight of Luc made him feel like a kid again. It brought back memories of crying where no one could see him, because he didn't understand why his brother—his best friend—had humiliated him at school again. Those cruel words had cut so deeply and now they were all flooding back into Adam's mind, as he glared at Luc over the kitchen table. During dinner, everything about Luc irritated him: the way his dark hair was immaculately swept back, with not a strand out of place; the way he wouldn't lift his dark eyes to meet his stare; the designer clothes Luc wore that gave an impression of casual, even though the whole outfit had clearly been carefully chosen. Christ, even the way Luc's mouth moved as he chewed and swallowed the food that Adam had cooked annoyed him. It was a face he could easily punch, but wouldn't. Luc was here to help their parents and Adam had to put up with that.

  "I want to sort your website out first," Luc said, once he'd scraped his plate clean and pushed it away slightly.

  "What's wrong with the website?" their dad asked.

  Luc stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"

  Adam shifted in his chair as he watched the two of them stare each other down.

  "Your dad designed it," Deborah, their mum said, when neither man spoke.

  "Well, it's a great effort," Luc said, picking over his words slowly. "But you need better. You need something with more pizzazz."

  "Pizzazz?" Their dad curled his upper lip. "We're primarily a ballet school."

  "But that's not all you teach," Luc said, barging on as though he really didn't care about their dad's feelings. "Besides, there's no reason why ballet has to be boring." His gaze flicked to Adam ever so briefly. "Right?"

  Adam didn't appreciate being dragged into the middle, so he gritted his teeth and kept his mouth shut. It wasn't that he didn't agree with Luc—about ballet anyway; he knew nothing about website design—but he wasn't going to take Luc's side over his dad's.

  "What are you suggesting we do?" Deborah asked.

  "I was going to ask Jane, the web designer I work with to take a look at it. If you can give me all the login and server details, she should be able to whip up a new template for you."

  "We can't afford that," their dad said gruffly.

  Luc waved his hand. "I'm pretty sure I can talk her into doing it as a favour to me. Don't worry about it." He leaned forward onto the table, planting his elbows in the space he'd cleared by moving his plate away. "I noticed you have no social media presence. At least, I couldn't find you on Facebook or Twitter when I searched." He looked at their parents, his eyebrows raised a fraction, lips parted, as he waited for their response.

  "We've never bothered with that stuff. It's just cat pictures and people whining about their lives, isn't it?" Their dad asked.

  Luc laughed. The sound made Adam's lip curl.

  "Social media can be a powerful tool, Dad," Luc said. "I'm surprised Adam didn't suggest you get on there."

  Adam narrowed his eyes.

  "I've never bothered Adam with the business side of things," their dad said. "He's a damn fine teacher and dancer."

  Finally, Luc looked at Adam and held his gaze for more than a microsecond. "Yeah," he said, drawing the word out. "I remember how good a dancer he was." Luc looked away abruptly.

  Adam continued to stare at him, eyes narrowing further as he tried to pick apart the expression on Luc's face and the tenor of his voice. His words had been soft, as had his gaze, and that confused the hell out of Adam.

  "I'll set you up on Facebook and Twitter and manage the accounts while I'm here," Luc went on, his attention firmly divided between their parents. "But one of you is going to have to take the time to sit with me and see the kind of things I'm posting, the frequency and so on, so you can keep it up once I head back home."

  Their parents exchanged an uncertain glance.

  "Maybe Adam could do that," Deborah suggested, with a thin smile on her lips. "It would give the two of you a chance to catch up."

  "I don't want to catch up," Adam said. He scraped his chair back and stood abruptly.

  He started clearing the table, not looking at any of them as he picked up their plates. His comment hadn't been massively mature, but Luc's presence was bringing out the worst in him.

  "Adam," there was a clear note of warning in his dad's voice.

  He sighed. "It's your business. You've never wanted me involved in this side of things before, why do you want me involved now?"

  "We're not getting younger," his dad said. "You'll gradually need to take on more responsibility. If you want to."

  Was his dad saying what Adam thought he was? Not that he wanted to think about it. Aside from the fact he wasn't sure he wanted to take over the dance school one day, he definitely didn't want to dwell on the mortality of his parents. He'd already lost his biological mum far too early.

  He filled the dishwasher in silence, half listening to the conversation that carried on behind him.

  "Have you got permission from parents to use photos of your students for marketing purposes?" Luc asked.

  Adam guessed their parents shook their heads, when only silence answered.

  "Okay, I'll draft up a form for you. Get those permission slips in as quickly as you can and then I'll come into lessons and take some photos. Maybe some vid
eo too. It'll be good to put up on social media, to get people interested in what you do. Do you have a flyer already designed?"

  "Yes, hang on," Deborah said. The legs of her chair squeaked across the tiles and then her slippers made a slap, slap, slap noise as she wandered out of the kitchen.

  "Adam, sit down," their dad said.

  "I've got stuff to do."

  "Sit down."

  Adam did as he was told. There it was again: feeling like he was a kid, rather than a grown man. He knew it didn't help that he was acting like a kid.

  "You two need to sort things out, for your mum's sake," their dad hissed.

  Adam folded his arms and leaned back, glaring at Luc.

  "I'm sorry," Luc mumbled.

  "For what?" Adam asked.

  "For being mean to you when we were kids."

  Adam hissed out a breath. That wasn't all Luc had to apologise for.

  "Adam?" their dad asked.

  "Apology accepted," he grumbled.

  "I want you to let Luc teach you about the social media stuff."

  Adam started to shake his head, then bit his lip. "Fine."

  "Let me get things set up first," Luc said, looking down at the table. "Until we get those permission slips in and start taking some photos, there won't be much I can do." He cleared his throat. "I'll need your class list and prices, too."

  Deborah wandered back into the kitchen, brandishing one of their flyers. It was very similar to the website in look and feel, so Adam doubted that Luc would be impressed by it. Not that they'd bothered with flyers in a long time.

  Luc took the flyer and gazed at it for a few seconds. "I'll get Jane to redesign this, too. Maybe put an offer on it of a free introductory lesson."

  Their parents gaped at him.

  "You're supposed to be helping us make money, not give things away for free," their dad grumbled.

  "An introductory lesson is a great idea," Luc assured them. "It gets people through the door without them having to spend anything except their time. Then it's up to you guys to show them you are the best dance teachers around."

  Deborah put her hand on their dad's shoulder. "We agreed we'd give all Luc's ideas a try. He knows what he's doing, Ken."

  Their dad inhaled deeply. He raised his hand to Deborah's and patted it. "I know." He nodded. "But one thing at a time, okay? Don't thrust too much on us at once."

  Luc grinned, which made the dimple in his chin more pronounced and, for a second, his face looked a little less harsh and angular. "Let's get the web side of things sorted out first." He dropped his hands to his lap. "Right, I'm going to take my suitcase upstairs and get freshened up. Am I in my old room?"

  "Next to Adam's, yes," their mum said. "It's all ready for you."

  Luc smiled at his parents but seemed to avoid even glancing in Adam's direction. Then he stood and scurried out of the room with surprising speed.

  "I'm going down to the cellar," Adam said, standing. He needed to dance. Needed to work some of the frustration out of his system. "Come get me when it's time to head to the studio."

  He wasn't sure how long Luc was planning on staying, but he could already tell it was going to feel like a life sentence.

  Chapter Five

  Luc

  Over the next few days, Luc spent as much time as possible in his old bedroom mostly doing his actual job. It was easier than being around Adam. Besides, there wasn't much he could do, except set up social media accounts for the dance school, until Jane got back to him with a new website design. She'd agreed to bill him for her time. It had been too much for Luc to expect a freebie from her, but he wasn't going to pass the costs onto his parents. They had enough financial worries without coughing up for an expensive new website.

  He ended up with a growing pile of social media permission slips from dance school parents. He poured over the timetable and fees list, looking for gaps in the school's provision, compared to what the other local dance schools offered. As far as he could tell, there was one glaring difference. He decided he was going to talk to his parents about it over breakfast, when things were generally the most relaxed.

  He froze as he walked into the kitchen. Adam was the only one in there. He was standing pouring milk over cereal, with his back to Luc, wearing nothing but a pair of grey jogging bottoms, which rested low on his hips. Luc couldn't help but stare at the V shaped muscles on Adam's back, between his hips, that vanished beneath his waistband. He imagined what it would be like to leave a trail of kisses down Adam's spine, until his lips met that waistband. Heat flushed through him. What the fuck was wrong with him? He had to get his thoughts and feelings under control. He wasn't a teenager with raging hormones anymore.

  Luckily, when Adam turned around, he didn't even bother to glance over at Luc, so there was no danger of him seeing his brother's discomfort.

  "Morning," he grunted, before carrying his cereal bowl over to the table and sitting down.

  "Morning," Luc said, his voice about as cheerful as Adam's had been.

  He made himself breakfast with record speed, making sure to keep his back to Adam the whole time. Then he dashed to the table and sat down, hiding the boner that he'd have to attend to soon, before it became excruciating. He needn't have worried. Adam still didn't look at him.

  Seconds later, their parents wandered in. Luc waited until they'd made coffee and toast and had settled at the table, before speaking.

  "Why don't you have lessons for kids under six?"

  Ken stared at him for a few seconds, the expression on his face suggesting that Luc's question was stupid. "The bones in children's feet aren't properly developed until around then," he said eventually. "If you start formal ballet training too young, you could do more harm than good."

  Luc remembered starting to learn dancing just after Ken had married his mum. Adam used to sit and watch him, eager to join in, but their parents had refused to let him until he'd turned six.

  "All the other schools in the area have lessons from three."

  "That doesn't mean it's a good thing," his mum said.

  "No." Luc inhaled. He knew he had to tread carefully. "But what it does mean, is that you're missing out on a lot of potential students. Unless their parents are unhappy, the dance school they put their kids in at three, is the dance school they're going to stay at as they get older." He pursed his lips as he stirred his milk drenched cereal. "Couldn't you offer some form of fun dance lessons from three? It doesn't have to be formal ballet."

  "It's a good idea," Adam muttered.

  Luc glanced at him, eyebrows lifted. Adam was staring at his own cereal, the set of his jaw harsh. Luc found his gaze lingering on his stepbrother.

  "I could come up with some ideas for classes, if you want?" Adam carried on, his voice gruff.

  Luc hadn't expected Adam to back him up, even if he was doing it grudgingly. Was that because it was Luc's idea? Did Adam hate him that much? Luc's shoulders slumped. If Adam did really hate him, he only had himself to blame. He'd been awful to Adam those last few years before he'd gone to university and didn't deserve anything but contempt from his brother. It was for the best, too, because if Adam was actually nice to him, he'd probably fall apart and confess his attraction to him.

  "I really don't think—" Ken began.

  "Let's see what Adam can come up with," Luc's mum said. "Don't rule it out completely."

  Luc wondered if every suggestion he made would be met with equal hostility from his father. It was his mum who had asked for his help, not Ken. What had she done to persuade him to lay down his pride and let his nearly estranged stepson help him? He tried not to think about it too much as he wolfed his breakfast down.

  Adam was the first to leave the table.

  "I'm going to go jot down some ideas," he said after clearing his bowl up. "Later."

  Luc took the opportunity to leave too, following close behind Adam whilst their parents' gazes were elsewhere. Adam took the steps two at a time and Luc jogged up after him. Adam disa
ppeared into his room, but, unusually, left his door open. Luc half hid behind the door.

  "Thanks for backing me up down there," he said.

  Adam, who had just grabbed a T-shirt from his drawer, paused and glanced around at him and shrugged half-heartedly.

  "I really want to help turn the dance school around," Luc told him.

  "That's why you're here." Adam pulled the T-shirt over his head. "And why everyone's acting as though everything's fine."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Luc asked. He almost stepped into the room, but stopped himself.

  "Do you have any idea how upset Mum was when you decided to move so far away and then didn't even bother to come and visit?"

  Luc shook his head, although he could guess. His mum had always been emotional.

  "Yet no one's mentioning it. No one's hauling you over the coals because of it. You're back and everyone's treating you like you God's fucking gift or something." Adam gritted his teeth and glared at Luc for several seconds. "But once you're done here, you're just going to fuck off and break Mum's heart all over again and it'll be me and Dad who have to pick up the pieces, whilst you're living it up." He marched forward and pushed the door shut.

  Luc stepped back just in time to avoid getting smashed in the face by the door as it slammed closed. He'd known Adam was angry with him, but he hadn't realised just how bitter his brother really was. Now he knew, but the problem was, he had no clue what to do about it.

  Chapter Six

  Adam

  Adam was letting Luc get under his skin in the worst possible way. Even whilst he worked on ideas for dance lessons for youngsters, he couldn't get his stepbrother out of his head. Luc really didn't have a fucking clue what he'd put their parents through. He thought he could just waltz back in, like some kind of prodigal son. And that's pretty much what their parents had let him do. Their dad was a little less receptive than their mum, but still, neither of them were calling Luc on his shit. Were things really that bad with the dance school that they had to pander to Luc and forgive everything he’d done to them?

 

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