Grease Monkey Jive (36 page)

She heard whistles and cheers. She saw red.

It only lasted a few seconds and Dan was back by her side. It was only a dance routine, but a claw of jealousy tore at her throat. She forgot this was just a performance and, as the last strains of the song were playing, she did the only thing she could think of.

She moved in close to Dan, drew her hand back, and slapped him. Hard.

The crack of her hand connecting with the side of his face made them both start, but the way Dan was smiling still, despite the flush that bloomed instantly on his cheek fuelled her anger. Still in character, the diva punishing her ex-lover, she stalked away from him.

She would’ve kept going, past Scott and Trevor, past Gran and into the change rooms where she knew it was safe to scream, but she caught Scott frantically motioning her to turn around. He was grinning wildly and suddenly it hit her. Scott planned this. Sent Dan out there to shake things up and spice up their performance.

She had no idea what she was going to see when she turned. Would Dan be the cocksure Casanova with his arms opened for her calculated return or the lethal Lothario having already forgotten her?

She whipped around and there he was in the centre of the spotlight on his own, on his knees with his face in his hands. It was acting, he was the heartbroken ex. It felt shockingly real. She raced across the stage and knelt down behind him, throwing her arms around him and enfolding him in a hug as their music ended to the strangled sob of the singer.

Alex heard the rush of applause and whooping and looked up to see some sections of the audience standing to cheer. Then she saw the back of Dan’s jacket as he spun around and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her caveman style off the dance floor. He took her right through their team area, ignoring the expectant look of their friends, and out into the corridor. When he put her down he backed off as though giving himself a better chance of dodging her blows.

He was breathing heavily. He put his hand to his hair and was thrown to find it was already slicked back and ended up running it down his cheek and jaw where her hand had connected. He was frowning, utterly focused on her reaction. “Alex, I...”

“Oh my God. I loved it.”

She launched herself at him, sending him staggering back as she straddled his hips, locking her ankles together behind him and finding his lips to take the kiss he’d denied her on the dance floor. It was a kiss with kick. It jolted both of them with sudden sharp spikes of want, got deeper quickly, got hot, burned at the edges, and said everything they needed to say about desire.

Dan broke away first. “Scott wanted...”

Alex cut him off. “I only figured it out after I slapped you. I had no idea what you were doing. I’m so sorry.” She put her hand to Dan’s cheek and jaw, following it with her lips, soft, soothing kisses, and he angled his head to encourage more of them.

“You can pack a punch.”

She pulled back. “I forgot where we were. I saw you with Anna and I just lost it.”

“I love that you lost it.” He lowered her to the ground and rubbed his nose against hers making her go cross-eyed with closeness and relief. “I was worried you’d hate me for going off the reservation.”

“I was too busy trying to work out what you were doing. I’ve probably never danced so erratically in my life. We should’ve been doing it like that from the beginning.”

Dan folded her against his chest. “You think we pulled it off?”

“I heard whistling. You don’t get whistling often. People were stomping.”

“And that’s good?”

“Insanely good.”

Nestled securely against the soft cotton of Dan’s white t-shirt, Alex felt him sigh. “There’s something you need to see.”

When she looked up Scott was there, and when she saw the video everything started to fall into place. Ferdy in the corridor as they were leaving, the throaty male laughter that followed them, the women trying to get Dan’s attention, that fizz of excitement from the audience before they’d danced a step.

“You wanted me off balance.” She poked Scott in the chest. She couldn’t work out if she was angry with herself for being caught out this way or with Scott for not telling her straight up. The footage of her and Dan was incredibly hot, unbelievably inappropriate, and horribly embarrassing.

Scott wore a tight expression that flat lined his lips. “That was the plan. That and I didn’t want you going out there upset and anxious. I didn’t want you to be self-conscious. That’s what whoever did this wanted. I wanted you annoyed instead.” He gestured at Dan, “He needed to be convinced,” then waved his phone about. “This did it. And what you did out there has to be enough to get you the points to stay in for the next round.”

“I don’t like it that you guys didn’t tell me. But I get why you did it. Do something like that again, though, and it’ll be another story. And while I’m at it,” she poked Scott again, “you can push us harder, be more creative for the next round, and you,” she poked Dan, “are better at all this than you give yourself credit for.” Dan lips ticked up into a grin and she poked him again, “But don’t get cocky and if you ever dance like that again with Anna, or anyone else for that matter, I’ll do something to seriously hurt you.”

Alex surveyed her two partners and co-conspirators, now both looking at her in contrition and amusement. They could hardly be more different, Scott’s cool blonde looks and precise, clipped manner in complete opposition to Dan’s dark, casually tousled style and easy going way, yet she trusted these two men with her life.

She’d loved Scott for years. He’d been in her corner since her teens and he would never knowingly hurt her, unless it was for her own good. He could be a pompous pain in the backside, precious and opinionated, but his heart was in the right place. How she felt about Scott gave her comfort. How she felt about Dan scared her near witless. He’d become so important so quickly, so necessary, so deeply lodged in her life that she could forget entirely where she was and momentarily believe he’d try to wreck their competition hopes and dump her for Anna.

She had no idea how to manage the swirl of conflicting emotions Dan made her feel, but she was going to collect, cherish, and hold on to them for as long as she could.

Looking from Scott’s eyebrow-raised sulk to Dan’s warm boyish grin she said, “Now, what do we do about this?”

Dan favoured a solution that involved the threat of violence and lingering pain, preferably including a dark alley, a plausible alibi, and a quick getaway. Scott thought he was serious and when Dan looked at Ferdy’s camp, now celebrating another smooth professional performance, he almost was. A spot of intimidation with some back up from the boys would be an interesting way to wipe the smirk off Ferdy’s face.

Alex’s reaction, wisps of shock, shame, and anger, was enough to have him picturing himself standing over Ferdy forcing him to eat every pixel and frame he’d shot and to film the ordeal himself and whack it on the internet as a perfect counterpoint to Ferdy’s attempt at sabotaging them.

Trevor wanted to lodge an official protest. Gwen wanted everyone to relax.

Mitch said, “Fuck ‘em – just win the thing.” Which was head-screwed-on advice, even after Marjorie arrived.

“What were you thinking?” She pinned Trevor with a glare that made him stutter, “Ah, about winning.”

“You’re really pushing it, you know, three dancers on the floor. This is a competition for couples.”

Trevor squirmed under Marjorie’s admonishment. “There’s nothing in the rules that says you can’t include a third dancer.”

“There will be by tomorrow.”

“Are we going to be penalised?”

“No, but anyone else who tries it will be,” she sighed. “You’re making some enemies, you know.”

Trevor nodded. “It wasn’t our intention. You could say we were provoked.”

“Sure looked provocative to me.” Marjorie’s eyes flicked to Dan, the smile playing on her pink lips making it obvious she’d seen the viral footage. She leaned in to Trevor. “That just about burned the floor. The judges don’t know what to do with you. You’re clearly the audience favourite, but there’s been a protest. No, I can’t tell you who made it.”

“We can guess.”

“No more surprises, Trevor. I mean it.”

“I hear you.”

“But I don’t hear you promising.”

Trevor laughed. “Can’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Marjorie waved a hand towards the judge’s dais, frowning. “And I can’t keep defending you out there.”

Now it was Trevor’s turn to lean in. “Don’t give me that. You love every minute of the drama. And we’re not doing anything illegal, just stretching the rules.”

Marjorie blushed the colour of her lipstick. “Is that what you call it? Look, I can argue your case and you should get enough points to stay in this round, but you have to stop being so...” she searched for a word and settled on, “provocative,” throwing her hands in the air.

When Dan and Alex were called back onto the floor for the results to be read, they did try to be more sedate, but Ferdy’s preening, his puffed out chest and thin lipped smirk, got to Dan and he was aware they had more than their fair share of attention, something he didn’t see the point in wasting.

He steered Alex to a stop beside Brad and Anna and tucked her into his shoulder, then with a quick glance at Brad put one arm around Anna, pulling her to his other side. Anna reacted by laughing and snuggling into his arm. Alex reacted by pushing away from him, rolling her eyes and blowing a bubble with her gum. Combined with Brad’s appeal to the audience for mercy, Dan ensured the spotlight was still shining their way.

They got a ripple of laughter, they made Barry Barton cough into his microphone, they made Ferdy scowl, and they made the audience murmur. When it was announced that the definition of couple for the competition was to be restricted to two dancers only, there was a low rumble of dissatisfaction.

When Barry called their names, there was a hush no other announcement had yet received, and when he gave them a five, enough to keep them in the competition, but the lowest score of the remaining couples, the rumble of disagreement was punctuated by boos of disapproval.

They left the floor hand-in-hand to Barry’s voice giving the top score to Ferdy and Gina, putting them in first place with Brad and Anna two points behind.

Back in their team area there were high fives, hugs, and plans being made. Dan begged off taking part in a discussion about where they’d go to eat, knowing they’d likely end up wherever Mitch decided they should go. He was keen to ditch the Elvis look for his own clothes and retreated to the change room. The sooner he could shower the grease out of his hair, the better.

He was focused on hot water, but the voice, sharp with resentment, stopped him. “Why you?”

Dan looked across at the boy, blonde hair and gangly limbs, not much muscle on him, slumped on the change room bench seat, a look of indignation on his face.

“You have no technique.”

He couldn’t help, but smile. “You’re Cooper, right?“

“Yeah and Alex choose you instead of me.” Cooper’s eyes were ablaze with the slight.

He sat beside Cooper. “Wild, hey? Mate, I’m as surprised as you are.”

And just like that the fight went out of Cooper. The kid must’ve been expecting him to get defensive.

“She’s mad beautiful and I really wanted to dance with her.”

“She is mad beautiful,” Dan repeated, enjoying the phrase. “It’s hard to believe I am dancing with her.” He turned his head to watch the kid. “How did I do?”

Cooper made a face, narrowing his eyes, sucking in his lips, and Dan had to laugh. “That bad? Come on give it to me, I can take it.”

“You’re just all wrong, but the judges like you and I can’t understand why.”

“Don’t hold back there, Coop. Did I get anything right?”

“Not technically. You break all the rules, but you have really good stage presence.” The kid dropped his head. “Better than me.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” Cooper’s earlier resentment was replaced by an air of dejection. “How do you do it?”

“Mate, I have no idea. I’m out there and I’m as nervous as all fuck and I have no thoughts in my head. I’m basically panicking, and then I look at Alex and I tune into the music and it just happens. I’ve got nothing to teach you. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.”

“You have this way of standing and moving, like you own the place. I don’t get it, but I want to be more like you.”

“More like me? But you have all the training.”

“Yeah, but I’m not exciting to watch like you are. I’m just like every other dancer out there. You’re different.” Cooper stopped, drew breath, and looked directly at Dan. “I saw the video.”

Dan winced. “Right. I’d have been a bit more respectful if I’d have known anyone was watching.”

“It was way hot.”

He grimaced, went to put his hand through his hair, and remembered it was plastered back. “It was...” he paused, not sure what to say to the obviously impressionable Cooper, “a private moment.”

He scored a look of scorn. “Yeah, ok, it was hot, but it wasn’t meant for family viewing and it was sent around to embarrass Alex. I’m not cool with it. And look, Cooper, you don’t want to be like me.”

“I’d rather be like you than Ferdy.”

“No. You don’t. When I was your age I was in bad shape. Didn’t have my head on tight. I was drinking, I was stealing, I was part-time at school, I was driving without a licence. I was doing a whole bunch of stuff I shouldn’t have been doing and I was bloody lucky not to get caught. I didn’t have a good home life. I had next to no discipline and a pretty good case of thinking I was immortal. I had to leave home to get straightened out and I’m still a work in progress. You don’t want to be like me. You get to be better than me.”

Cooper was giving him this ‘holy shit, that’s cool’ look, his eyebrows almost in his hair line, and Dan realised he’d made things sound all ‘rebel without a cause’ attractive. “Cooper. Do you know why I’m dancing with Alex?”

“’Cause you’re a lucky bugger.”

“You’re right, but that’s not the only reason. My personal life was pretty screwed up, particularly the way I related to women. I’m twenty-eight years old and I’ve never had a steady girlfriend.” He heard Cooper gasp in surprise.