Chapter 28

I look round at the packed city hall. The seating has been cleared from the central stalls area to make room for the dance floor, with the judges and an orchestra on the stage. There is further seating on the upper floors. The domed ceiling, with its stunning art deco laylight, adds elegance to the event.

"I still don't see why tha's not dancing." I wince slightly as Barry's voice cuts across the hubbub, and don't need to see my parents' expressions to know they've done the same. I've explained everything to my parents and they understand, but my dad gave Barry and Alan a very abridged version of why I was sitting with them, and not out there with Darcy on the dance floor.

Claire had arranged for good seats for all of us, saying it was not a problem when I explained that Alan and Barry wanted to bring their wives. Now I'm not sure it was such a good idea.

"I'm sure you're just as good. We wanna see thee dance, lad." His wife, Maggie, shushes him, murmuring something in his ear. He sits back in his seat and she smiles at me when I shoot her a grateful look. I appreciate his indignation on my behalf, but it doesn't help. Nothing helps, except knowing that this is the best way to support Darcy—and I would go to the ends of the earth for him. So I squash down my own disappointment that it isn't me out there, and think about how there will always be a next time. I want to be with him now, telling him how well he's going to do, calming his nerves. But he has his family and Krystal, and I'd just be in the way. And so I give him some space and sit with my family instead, in some of the best seats in the hall where we can see everything perfectly.

Maggie and Brenda are talking about who were their favourites on the TV show that pairs celebrities with dancers. I don't get the chance to watch it much, and don't really care for which soap star is dancing, but the show has done a lot for the popularity of ballroom dancing in recent years.

My phone buzzes with a text, and I pull it out, smiling when I see it's a text from Darcy. Not able to see him this morning, I've been texting my support along with very suggestive messages about what I'm going to do to him later.

I open it and am greeted with a picture of his ass—a reply to my last text. It takes me far too long to realise that I'm sitting so close to my mum that she could just look over and...

"What's that love?" she asks. I hit the power button, almost dropping my phone in the process.

"Just a text from Darcy," I squeak, feeling my face burn. I fumble for my phone so I don't have to meet her eyes.

"What'd he say?" she asks, which makes me think she didn't actually see the screen. I allow a small breath to escape. He didn't say anything.

"He says, thank you all for coming and he's looking forward to seeing you all later." I try to make it sound convincing.

"He's such a sweet boy," she says, and turns back to say something to my dad. I suppress a snigger. He was sweet... until I got my hands on him, and my mouth. Oh yes, he's sweet alright. I lift my phone closer to my face so no one can see my screen and take another peek at the picture. I can't wait to get my hands on those ass cheeks later; more than my hands if we can get a minute alone. I send a cheeky reply.

Nick: My mum says very nice ass, but she prefers dick pics. :) Lick you later