Chapter 26

"Again," Darcy says, as the samba music ends.

Krystal stands with her hands on her hips and is panting slightly. "Darcy, it's fine."

I hide a small smile, knowing Darcy well enough to be fairly confident what his next words will be. From my vantage point, sitting cross-legged on the studio floor, it looked pretty good to me.

"I don't want fine, I want perfect," he replies.

"Then it's perfect." She throws one hand in the air with a whatever expression as she walks over to her bag and lifts out a bottle of water. He glowers after her.

"It can't be just fine and perfect. It doesn't feel perfect to me." Darcy is in full-on focus mode. He has been since the regional competition. He's staking everything on winning this competition, and I understand how important it is for him, but he has a habit of driving himself too hard. Julia knew him well enough to call him out on it. Krystal looks like she might rub him the wrong way instead.

"It's good enough," she replies, taking a swig. Yes, she definitely said the wrong thing.

"Good enough doesn't win," he says with some passion. "Good enough is mid-range, lower placings, third—if you're lucky. I need to win this."

"I'm surprised you've never won with that attitude."

Darcy deflates a little. "I've never had the chance to go; either Julia or I was sick or injured each year."

"Well, that's my luck then, as I'm sure Andrew and I wouldn't have won against you."

I don't need to see his green eyes right now to know that they'll be burning brightly. I see his jaw tighten and he clenches his fists. I debate whether to intervene. Whilst this is all extremely entertaining, Darcy could say something that jeopardises them dancing together. He looks on the edge, throwing a retort out, then he seems to realise this and turns away.

Krystal puts her jacket on, clear that she's done for the evening. I can't say I blame her. She works in the daytime and can only practise in the evening. She has to travel over to practice, which is anything up to an hour depending on traffic. She's done that almost every day since regionals two weeks ago. But the Nationals are only a few days away, so I understand why Darcy is pushing to get in as much practice as possible.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she says, picking up her bag.

"Okay, and thank you." Darcy seems to have recovered enough from what she said to not want to bite back any longer.

"Look Darcy, we'll be fine," she says. "The waltz is foot perfect, as are the quickstep and foxtrot. The samba, jive, rumba, and cha-cha-cha are really good. We just need another run through on the pasa doble, tango, and Viennese waltz and they'll be just as good. We still have a couple more days to practise."

"You're right. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay then." She turns my way. "Bye Nick." I raise a hand in a wave before she's through the door and gone.

Darcy settles down on the floor next to me with a sigh, then draws his knees up and folds his arms on top of them, resting his chin and looking glum.

"Don't let it eat you up." I nudge him gently with my shoulder. He closes his eyes and I stay silent, knowing he'll speak when he's ready. After a moment he opens them and lifts his head to rest it on the wall behind him.

"How can she be so blasé about it all? It's like she isn't even bothered. And to say that, about if I had competed. To say they probably won because I wasn't there..." He trails off and I know he's thinking that life is unfair and that success seems to come easily to people who don't appear to want it or work hard for it. It's a dangerous thought for him to brood on at any time, especially not a few days out from the most important competition of his life.

"You know, she really paid you a massive compliment."

He tilts his head to me and gives me his best "please explain this shit you're telling me" look. So cute.

"Despite what you think, we know Krystal does work hard, and she's a really good dancer. You can't say for sure that if you'd danced in the Nationals before, you would've won. It very much depends on what happens on the day. But the three-time national ballroom champion has just said you could have beaten them. I think that's a huge fucking compliment, D."

His face softens a little, and he allows a small smile to escape. I stand and hold out my hand to pull him up.

"Now, come and dance some swing with me. I want to give Mrs Herringsworth the dance of her life on our forties day." We have it planned for two weeks after the Nationals. I've taken over the advertising, and so far there's been a lot of interest.

He allows me to tug him up and lead him to the middle of the floor. I leave him briefly to put on some suitable music and then return. I hold out my hand for him to place his in it and then, before we start, I trail my other hand down his body. I graze his hip, and cupping his ass, pull him towards me for a kiss.

"Well, Mrs Herringsworth is going to have the dance of her life if you're going to start like that." He grins at me, and I'm pleased I've managed to get him to set aside his demons for now.

"Cheeky." I nip his lip and he looks at me from under his lashes. It gets me every time. "Dance. It'll loosen you up, and if you're really lucky, I'll blow you later to relax you some more." I try not to think about that, as dancing is going to be uncomfortable if I'm sporting a boner.

"Maybe I'll blow you." He smiles seductively, and yeah, that's not helping the boner situation.

"No way! With a jaw as tense as yours, you'll bite it off, and I happen to be quite attached to my dick thank you."

"I'm quite attached to your dick, too." He gives me a smirk and then steps back out of my embrace so we can dance.

"I have something to tell you," I announce a while later. We're laid on Darcy's bed and I'm curled into his side, trying to summon up the energy to go home. We never asked if I could stay over, and with it this close to the competition, Darcy needs all the rest he can get—and not much of that would be happening if I shared his bed. Which is what I wanted to talk to him about.

"Oh." He tenses, and it saddens me that his first instinct is for this to be bad news.

"I'm going to start looking for houses next week."

"What!" Darcy sits up, disturbing my position and making me sit up, too. "That's fucking amazing, Nick. I didn't think you had enough saved yet."

"The last couple of jobs with my dad have been hard work, but the pay has been good. I have enough if I'm careful."

"Awesome. Can I help you look?" He looks as excited as I feel.

"I was hoping you'd say that." I can't keep the smile from my face. We haven't talked about the future. I don't think Darcy wants to think past the weekend, really, and who can blame him? I would like to live with Darcy, share space with him, and share a bed. That couple of days we had when his parents were away gave me a glimpse of how we could be, and I'd love that.

"I..." I falter over asking him the next question, not sure how he will react. I'm normally confident about difficult subjects. I could have brought it up as a joke, almost. But this is so important to me, and is such a big step, that I find my mouth going dry and my hands shaking a little. I reach for his hand and interlace our fingers, as I need to feel connected to ask. I trace patterns on the back of his hand. "When I have a place, would you like to stay over?"

"Stay over?" he echoes, and I swallow.

"I mean, would you live with me?" I give his hand a squeeze.

"Oh, Nick." He squeezes my hand back, the silent gesture meaning more to me than a thousand words can, but he tells me anyway. "There is nothing I'd love more, but are you sure? Financially, I'm pretty poor. I could contribute a bit, but not much, so it would feel wrong. I don't want to be a burden."

"You could never be a burden," I say, and then add, "Well, maybe..." I wiggle my eyebrows at him and I get a laugh, but then he's serious again.

"I don't have much to offer—sorry."

"Darcy, you are more than enough." I lift our joined hands and kiss the back of his, and he falls back on the bed in a mock swoon, and I can't help laughing at him.

"Is that a yes, then?"

He smiles up at me from where he's lying on the bed and nods enthusiastically. I cover him with my body, and kiss him until we're both breathless and I'm in danger of missing the last bus home.