Page 19 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

We walked in and I flicked the lights on. My house was devoid of Christmas cheer. Maybe I should have bought a tree.

“Why isn’t the heating on, sweet cheeks?” Dante said as he placed the stuff in his hands on the sofa and took my bag off me. “Brrr. Do you want me to reset the timer on your thermostat?”

“Umm, yes, now that you mention it. The damned thing comes on at the oddest time. Bed or food?”

Dante patted his stomach. I grinned and immediately kicking off my sneakers before heading to the kitchen while he headed upstairs to tame my misbehaving boiler. I sang Silent Night under my breath as I moved around my kitchen, quickly grabbing stuff from the cupboards and fridge to make us a very late dinner.

“Argh. My ears.” Dante groaned when he walked in ten minutes later.

“Shut up. I can sing.”

“Uh, no.” he said bluntly.

“Sleep in heavenly peace.” I screeched and Dante winced.

His expression was one of pain so I toned it down to humming. He came over to stand next to me, automatically helping with the food prep.

“So,” he began in a serious voice. “When are you setting the date?”

I shrugged. “Don’t really know. Matt and I haven’t discussed it in detail.”

“Mmm.” was Dante’s only response before he scowled at the salad leaves. “Have you seen the latest emails?”

The beginnings of dread bubbled in my stomach as I nodded quickly. “I saw them this morning. It’ll blow over.”

My best friend frowned some more. “I don’t like it, Madi. It’s escalating fast. You got the first one when? The 18th?”

I nodded again and scuffed my sock covered toes over the kitchen floor. Ever since the 18th our work email was being bombarded with hate mail. It had started off with a ‘fuck you nigger bitch’ and gotten progressively worse. I was sure it would blow over.

“I’ve blocked the-”

“And that hasn’t stopped it yet, Madi. We’ll need to change the work email. Asshole or assholes must have gotten it from our website.” Dante grumbled.

He was annoyed, the fact he wasn’t calling me sweet cheeks meant he was very annoyed…and worried. I knew he laid the blame atMatt’s doorstep. Whoever this person or persons were, they seem to have taken it personal; my relationship with one Matthew Bradley that is. The sicko was obviously some racist who couldn’t get over the fact someone like Matt would be with someone like me. A couple of the emails had spouted some nonsense about English pride and whatnot.

“Haters gonna hate, Dante.” I replied. “It’ll blow over.”

“Have you told your sugar daddy?” he queried.

“Why would I do that? It’s nothing and I’m not going to bother him with something that’s going to blow over. I’ll change the work email tomorrow.”

“Yes, you will,” Dante warned. He’d been on me to do it since yesterday but I’d been busy. We were both busy. “And you’re not putting it up on our website. I’ll create another one with my name for the website. That should stop it. Gloria’s been dealing with the nonsense they’re putting on Twitter and Instagram.”

I sighed and changed the subject. “Did you read the review in the Telegraph? It was good, wasn’t it?”

“Hmph,” Dante snorted. “It was mainly about your sugar daddy and him not making an appearance to watch you.”

“Uh, there was a paragraph on the quote, sublime movements of Dante Palmer, unquote.” I pointed out.

Dante grinned. “They wrote you and Bri were exceptional. I think I’m going to finally forgive you for going to the other side, sweet cheeks. At least your relationship is getting us publicity that we would never have gotten before.”

Ah. Sweet cheeks. He wasn’t annoyed anymore. I elbowed him with a mock scowl on my face.

“We are not using my relationship to further our dance company. I hate the media intrusion as it stands already and they always get pictures of my ass.”

“It is a sweet ass.” Dante quipped as he leaned back to eye my ass. “Not too big, not too small, just perfect. Like a peach.”

I shook my head at him and continued what I was doing. It hit me then, the lack of flutter. There were no butterflies in my stomach, no increased heart rate, no rush of blood to my face. Oh my. I surreptitiously observed him from lowered lashes. When had ithappened? When had I let go of my childhood crush on my best friend? I mean, it had to have happened at some point, I was an engaged woman. But when had my secret feelings faded away?

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