Chapter Thirty-Four

Kyle

Kyle was nearly home when Cade called. “Where the hell are you?”

He pulled into the long driveway leading up to their house, but stopped. “Home. Why?”

“You were supposed to come over. You’re not getting out of this.” Cade sounded more steamed than Kyle had ever heard. “My house. Fifteen minutes.”

He hung up before Kyle could give him an excuse. Kyle rested his head against the steering wheel. Why couldn’t he trust himself enough to open up to Faith? What was wrong with him? A corner of his heart beat out her name over and over and over, and he knew what he should do, but he couldn’t figure out how. No, that wasn’t right—he didn’t know how to do it without pain. Without saying, outright, that he’d lied to her.

Sighing, he backed out of the driveway. He’d wanted a miracle, right? Time to suck it up and see what his old friend had in store.

Cade wrenched the door open as soon as Kyle set foot on their porch. He was frowning. “Can you be honest with me? Before we go through this, are you really going to talk to me, or are we gonna dance? Because I gave you some specific instructions and you didn’t listen. In fact, you made things worse.”

Kyle’s bones ached, and he was tired all over. What was it his grandpa always said when he was being a cagey bastard? The truth will set you free. Yeah, it was time to lose his burdens. “I’m here to talk.”

Cade nodded sharply. “Step into my office.”

Cade’s mouth was hanging open. They’d stolen a bag of Chips Ahoy, a gallon of milk, and two glasses from his kitchen, and gone straight to the game room. When Cade asked why Kyle had walked out on Faith, something broke inside him. Cade had the kind of face that begged you to tell him your troubles, and the sum of four years of pain had come pouring out. Kyle had thought he’d feel ashamed, telling someone other than Grandpa, but Cade hadn’t mocked him, not once.

If anything, he looked like someone had bashed him in the face with a two-by-four.

“Wow, dude. That’s…that’s…” Cade shook himself. “Okay, you know me, right?”

Kyle snorted. “Yeah, I know you. I wouldn’t share this tale with a random stranger, not even if he brought cookies and milk. Thanks for the snack, by the way.”

“You looked…hungry when you got here. I had no idea why, but now things are making some sense.”

“I skipped dinner, too, you know.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Cade tapped a finger against his chin. “You know what I think you need?”

“If you say, ‘to get drunk,’ don’t bother. My gramps already tried that.”

Cade’s face lit up in a big smile. “I’ve missed that old man. He good?”

A pang of guilt hit Kyle in the chest. Why had he pushed Cade away? To make himself into something he wasn’t? What kind of douche did that? He huffed out a breath—the same kind of douche who dropped a girl for the same reason. “He’s great.”

“Excellent.” Cade settled back against the leather couch, where the two of them had watched superhero movies and played video games for hours in another life. Today, he was wearing an Arrow T-shirt and plaid shorts that clashed magnificently with both the shirt and his carrot-red hair. Yet Kyle knew Cade was the only guy comfortable enough in his own skin to dress this way. Unlike him.

“You were saying something about what I need?” Kyle said. “You know I have to remind you because you never finish a thought, man.”

Cade laughed. “True that. Okay, what you need is to try to get back together with Faith. Like, really try. Let nature take its course.”

“Oh, is it that easy? I’ll rush right out and try that,” Kyle muttered. “News flash—not going to happen. I’ve lied to her and everyone else for four years. Plus her ex hates me and he’s already making her life harder because of it. We stay together, he’ll keep it up. I’m the worst thing that could ever happen to her.”

“That’s bullshit, and the fear talking. You know it, I know it.” Cade stood abruptly. “Let’s go to my room.”

“On the first date? I’m flattered.”

Cade waggled an eyebrow. “Ha, you should be.”

“Oh, really?” He followed Cade down a hallway full of framed photos. A six-year-old Kyle peeked out of a fort next to Cade. A nine-year-old Kyle beamed with Cade in front of a comic book store. A thirteen-year-old Kyle hunched his shoulders and stared blankly, while Cade held up a fish in triumph on his dad’s fishing boat.

That’s when it had all changed.

Shaking off his dark mood, he went into Cade’s room. Aside from a plain blue bedspread replacing the Iron Man comforter on his bed, it wasn’t much different. Sure, the posters had gone from Dragon Ball Z to manga and high-concept Marvel comic drawings, but the room was totally Cade.

“Sit.” Cade pointed at a chair by his desk, then shut his bedroom door.

“You aren’t going to steal my virtue, are you?” Kyle asked.

“You wish.” Cade went to his nightstand and pulled out a book without letting Kyle see the cover. “Now, this might surprise you, but I’ve slept with three girls. Three, Kyle. And all of them told me they enjoyed it. One went so far as to say I was, how’d she put it? ‘Very generous with both my hands and my time.’”

Kyle’s eyebrows raced for his hairline. “Are you shitting me? God, you’re the real player of Suttonville High. Jesus, man.”

Cade smirked. “Come to think of it, one of them called on Jesus a few times.”

Holy hell. Kyle dropped his face into his hands. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working. If anything, I feel worse.”

“That’s not why I told you.” Cade sat on the foot of his bed and kicked Kyle’s ankle. “Look at me, young padawan. Teach you the ways of the Force, I will.”

“I don’t think Yoda read the Kama Sutra, dumbass.” But he laughed. “So what are we really doing?”

“I’m providing you with free psychotherapy, if you’d just shut up.”

Kyle shook his head, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Just because your mom is a psychologist doesn’t mean you’re qualified to mess with my brain.”

“I’m taking college-level psychology at UTA this semester,” Cade said softly. “And my mom’s been helping me with case studies. I might be more qualified than you think.”

Shit. One more thing he didn’t know about Cade. He was such an asshole, and the only way to stop being an asshole was to stop being an asshole. Kyle sat up straighter. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“You lost your mom early,” Cade said. “So you’ve always been a little wary of girls because you had no familial exposure to them. You always shied away from the girls chasing you on the playground in fourth grade at Summit, while I was trying desperately to let them catch me. On the rare occasion that they bothered to chase me at all.” He chuckled. “By the time we were in middle school, I thought you might be gay, because you looked uncomfortable with everyone and everything, and I wanted to tell you it would all be okay, but you quit talking to me. Then all these rumors started in high school and I decided maybe you were overcompensating for being overlooked before. A late bloomer maybe.”

“This is pretty damn embarrassing to hear, you know,” Kyle said frankly.

“I’m not judging. Get that through your head—I don’t judge you. I never have.” Cade glared at him. “I’m your friend. You may’ve stopped being mine for a while, but I didn’t.”

TKO to the guy in the Arrow T-shirt. Kyle stared at his hands. He’d done so many things wrong. Now, maybe, he could get some things right. “I’m sorry. Really. I should’ve been…better. At everything.”

“I don’t blame you one bit for morphing into ‘Kyle Sawyer, bad-boy wonder. King of the hoodies, duke of badassery.’ You had your reasons, and they were logical. Painfully understandable, to be honest.” Cade shrugged. “Besides, I figured you’d remember the real you at some point and come back. Shall we continue?”

“Oh, what the hell. Sure.”

“So now you’ve built all of this—meaning girls and relationships and sex—up in your head until it’s an Event, capital E. You’re scared to fail because you’ve been taught—cruelly—that failure leads to humiliation. That being sensitive, smaller than other guys, and dyslexic made you a target. Even though a lot of that’s changed, you’re still afraid to be hurt, so you either avoid relationships, or you end them before you can get your heart broken.”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to let his mouth hang open. “So you’re saying my hang-ups are Cameron’s fault?”

“And all the other bullies. And your teachers, not having your mom, and always being told to suck it up by your dad and your grandpa. I really do like that old man, but he’s pretty old-school. His solution to all this hurt you in the long run. Turning you into something you aren’t isn’t the best way to solve problems even if it protected you from the worst school had to offer.”

Kyle slumped in his chair, too tired to ask his bones to hold him upright. “Jesus.”

“So I’ve been told.” Cade whacked him on the knee. “Now, for your cure.”

“Can’t wait,” he mumbled.

“First, think about what scares you. When you started having doubts last night, what happened?”

“Faith…” He clenched his hands together. “Faith seems to want more than just revenge. Like a relationship, and she probably thinks I have that stuff down. Thing is, I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin, too, but she thinks I’m this great…this great…”

“Lover,” Cade said. “If you can’t say it, you can’t do it, man.”

“Jesus.”

“You keep saying that. I think that means He wants me to help you.”

“Okay, fine. Lover. There, I said it.” Kyle closed his eyes. Was it hot in here?

“Easy, take a breath. You’re fine, Kyle.” Cade tapped him on the ankle with his foot again. “Open those eyes. There’s no girl here to scare you.”

Kyle did as he was asked, pinning Cade with a hard glare. “I’m not afraid of girls.”

Cade clapped his hands. “A breakthrough! Outstanding.”

“You want me to be pissed with you?”

“Yes.” Cade leaned forward, his expression intense. “Because, man, you are one angry son of a bitch. It’s seeping out of your pores.”

Kyle clenched his fists. There wasn’t anything to hit, though. “Of course I’m angry. I’m an eighteen-year-old virgin who hides behind a costume to keep from feeling like hell all day long.”

“And how well do you think a pissed-at-the-world guy can let go and enjoy sexy times with a gorgeous lady, huh? No, wait, I’ll tell you.” Cade jabbed a finger at him. “Never. That’s your problem. You’re still so damned hurt that you can’t even see that people outside your house care about you. You think that you have to be someone else to be worth knowing.”

Kyle let out a shaking breath. “That hurt, man.”

“Good. You’re not going to deal with this unless it hurts.” Cade stood and started pacing. “Kyle, you forgot who you are. You shoved away everything you enjoy to hide behind a suit of armor that’s choking you day in and day out. I know baseball makes you happy. And gardening does, too. But how many people at school know you have a lawn business?”

“You and Faith,” he mumbled. “Oh, and Faith’s friend Violet.”

“And why’s that?”

Kyle’s neck, face, and chest burned. “Because I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone.”

“Why?” Cade’s tone was hard, giving him no quarter, no way out.

“Because I’m worried someone will give me crap about it. That it’s weird, or something. Like it’s beneath them, and I’m too stupid to get a ‘real job.’”

“Not worried,” Cade said, still harsh, still pushing just like a coach would. “Scared. Say it. Say it and own it, then check how you feel.”

Kyle jumped up to face him, all the frustration pouring out of him at once. “I am scared, you jackass. Okay? I’m terrified.”

Cade patted his shoulder awkwardly. “I know. But here’s a secret—so is everyone else. You’re pretty awesome, man. Good-looking, athletic, rich as hell, and despite all those character flaws, a nice guy. Don’t let someone else’s opinion shit on that for you.” One corner of Cade’s mouth lifted in a sad smile. “I’m goofy, a complete nerd, and totally middle class. But I’ll tell you something—I’m willing to trust that other people won’t be douches about all my shortcomings and like me for me. And that, my friend, is why I’m good in the sack.”

“Because you’re goofy and totally middle class?” Kyle asked, finding a sad smile of his own. Hadn’t Faith said almost the same thing, about everyone having baggage?

“No, because I trust people. And I work hard to make sure they can trust me. You’ve made a good step that direction, coming to see me about this. Next step will be to try to fix things with Faith. She’ll understand if you give her a chance.”

“I hurt her pretty bad.”

“Girls are resilient. And another word of wisdom? It’s always the quiet ones. Those girls? I’m telling you, they’re the best. Don’t go for the flirty, bold ones. They’re too into themselves. Sweet girls, given the right care and feeding, will blow your mind.”

Kyle laughed uncomfortably. “I feel really weird about this conversation.”

“As you should.” Cade picked the book up off his bed. “Sex manual. My mom gives it to clients who have intimacy issues. I know you know how the mechanics work, but this will help with other stuff. Oh, and Kyle? You need to buy some condoms. That way you don’t have an excuse to back out when you’re finally ready.”

Shaking his head, Kyle took the book. Half the words rearranged themselves on the page. Good thing there were pictures, because he was pretty sure his reading tutors wouldn’t help him decipher these pages. “If my grandpa finds this, he’ll give me hell for a month.”

“No, he won’t. Remember—trust people not to be douches. Vulnerability is a good thing. Girls find it pretty sexy, my man.”

Kyle tucked the book under his arm, careful not to look at the cover. “This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”

“But do you feel better?” Cade’s expression was hopeful.

Kyle thought it over. For once, starting a relationship with Faith—even kissing her, and maybe more—didn’t make him feel all spastic inside. Maybe she’d understand why he did the things he’d done to survive high school. Maybe she wouldn’t laugh, or get pissed. “Yeah. Funny enough, I do.”

“Good.” He beamed. “That’ll be eight hundred dollars.”

“Ha-ha. How about a burger sometime this week?”

“Can’t. I’m running sound for the musical. We perform in two weeks, so I have rehearsal all the freaking time. How about next Sunday?”

He gave Cade a fist bump. “Sunday’s good.”

He started to go, but Cade stopped him. “Are you going to the musical?”

Good question. “Not sure.”

“I think you should. She’d want you there. Really.”

Kyle nodded and headed downstairs and out to his car. After he climbed in, he sat for a minute, letting his thoughts settle. He caught sight of the box Mrs. Gladwell had given him. He’d shoved it in the backseat on Saturday, and hadn’t opened it. Cade’s tough talk about trust and fear convinced him to stop avoiding it.

He pulled off the lid. Inside was a bunch of candy.

And a ticket to the musical on opening night.

When he got home, he went into the living room, feeling bruised all over. Whoever said mental pain doesn’t hurt as bad as physical pain was an idiot. He flopped on the couch, his brain too scrambled to settle down. Cade had warned him—he had to be hurt to get better.

He’d been sitting there for twenty minutes before Grandpa came to find him.

“What’s got your goat?”

Kyle stared into the gas fireplace in their living room, still in his workout gear. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit, kid.” Grandpa flopped onto the leather couch next to him. “You’re practically comatose. And I hate to break it to you, but you smell like a yak.”

Kyle didn’t even crack a smile. “You don’t know what a yak smells like.”

“I was stationed in Vietnam for two years. I know a yak when I smell one.”

Kyle closed his eyes and counted to ten. Sometimes that was the only way to deal with the old man. “Fine. I had another blowup with Faith earlier. I keep screwing things up.”

Plastic rustled and Grandpa handed him an Oreo. “Eat that. You’ll feel better.”

“This is a bribe.”

“Damn right. And I have more. I’ll give you the whole package if you move of your own volition.”

“I’m just feeling messed up is all.” Kyle ate the Oreo even though he wasn’t hungry. “I went to Cade’s. He gave me some advice. About Faith mostly, but about other stuff, too.”

“He’s a smart kid. You gonna listen?” Grandpa asked.

It took him a minute, but Kyle nodded. “I’m beat. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Good plan.” Grandpa stood and brushed the Oreo crumbs off his lap onto the good Persian rug.

“Rosanna’s going to kill you.”

“She won’t have a chance.” He grinned. “I asked Maven to go to San Antonio with me. We’re leaving tomorrow. There’s a Kansas reunion tour going through there Wednesday night, and I bought front-row seats, thought we’d make a trip of it. That’s why I need you to start moving, so I don’t have worry about you being alone for a few days.”

Kyle jerked in surprise. “Alone? Where’s Dad?”

“He’s leaving for Chicago, first thing. Some board meeting.” Grandpa’s expression turned shrewd. “You’ll have the place to yourself until Friday afternoon. Use that time to get right with yourself, kid.”

Grandpa gave him a bracing pat on the shoulder and wandered back toward his den, whistling “Carry on Wayward Son.”

Kyle sank back against the couch. Could he do this? Could he patch things up with Faith? He wanted to, and he knew what it was going to take. At some point, he had to figure this out, and right now seemed like a pretty good time, given the carnage of the last few days.

He’d do anything to erase Faith’s hurt expression from his brain and replace it with a memory of her smile. A plan started to form in his mind, but he was going to need some help.

Time to see if he could actually let himself trust.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Cade, who answered with a barrage of cursing that left Kyle impressed. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Kyle? Shit, I thought you were someone else.”

Kyle frowned. “Someone giving you trouble?”

“Oh, some jackass on the debate team, talking smack. Keeps calling me, and I was too pissed to check caller ID before letting loose.” Cade made an annoyed sound. “It’s only been an hour. Already having second thoughts?”

“No.” He scooted to the edge of the couch, ready to stand and face what was in front of him. “What time is rehearsal tomorrow?”

“Five thirty. We’re working on the nightmare scene. Why?”

“I might need your help with something.” His game started at five. This was going to take some work. “The nightmare scene…as in Laurey’s nightmare? Or as in ‘it’s a nightmare working on this scene’?”

“Both.”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

Kyle stood and stretched. He had some things to do before bed. “For everything.”

The next morning, Kyle left for school early after Dad gave him the “no parties, young man” lecture, and Grandpa gave him a hundred bucks. “For pizza,” he said.

“For an army?” Kyle asked.

“I know how you eat,” Grandpa retorted.

Once at Suttonville, he looked for Cameron’s car. Not here yet. Fine, whatever. He’d find him at some point. They had some business to take care of—the sooner, the better.

Still, the morning wasn’t without surprises. He went to his locker, and there was Violet, leaning against it, her purple hair gleaming and her stare like dark bullets.

“You can go to hell, Kyle Sawyer,” Violet growled. “No one hurts my best friend and gets away with it.”

He hunched his shoulders inside his letter jacket. It was the first time he’d worn it, rather than his trusty hoodie, but it was flimsy protection against a girl who was part rabid fairy and part ninja. “I’m glad you’re here. I was planning to find you later.”

Violet stomped her foot. “You’re supposed to argue with me. I want a fight this morning.”

“Sorry. I only have one fight on my mind and it’s with someone a lot taller than you.”

She made a sound low in her throat, like a cat about to claw his eyes out. “I’m tall enough.”

“I don’t doubt that. You’re pretty terrifying, and I’m being sincere.” He leaned against the lockers next to her. “I need your help.”

“Why on this heavenly blue planet would I ever help you?”

“For Faith. I need to make things right with her, and I plan to go big. You in?”

All the air went out of her sails, and her quivering rage went with it. “Well, when you put it that way. What’s cooking, big boy?”

“Can you show up toward the end of play rehearsal? Cade said they’ll be done around seven thirty, and he’ll have something for you to do on my behalf.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, tilting her head. “Please tell me it’s something illegal. I really want it to be illegal.”

“Wow, you are a little monster.” He smiled down at her. “I’m so tempted to pat you on the head right now.”

“Do it and lose a testicle.”

“I believe you, and no. Nothing illegal.” He laughed when Violet let out a disappointed sigh. “I need you to give Faith something, that’s all.”

She blew out a breath that made her bangs flutter. “Fine. You have my number. Tell this Cade guy to text me when the operation, or whatever, is a go.”

Kyle stuck out his right hand. “Shake on it?”

She gave his hand a suspicious look. “I don’t know where that hand’s been.”

“Caressing the steering wheel of a year-old Charger.”

She lunged forward and gripped his hand. “Ooh, I can almost feel the engine purring. My payment for helping you with this is the chance to drive that beast on a deserted road.”

“Deal.”

Kyle left her feeling a little more hopeful.

He felt even more charged up when he spotted Cameron walking down senior hall alone. It was time to do something he should’ve done four years ago. It was time to let go of everything that scared him, and Cameron was all of that personified. After today, the only fear left would be whether or not Faith decided to give him a chance.

Whether or not he could gut out his nerves and take that chance would be a bridge to cross later.

Kyle followed Cameron until they were in front of an empty classroom, then he grabbed him by the back of his letter jacket and dragged him through the door.

“What the complete fuck!” Cameron yelled, trying to turn around to see who it was, but Kyle grabbed one of his arms and wrenched it behind his back.

He frog-marched Cameron to the corner of the room so they were hidden behind a file cabinet and slammed him against the wall. “I have one thing to say, and you better listen. Leave Faith alone. You want to come after me? Do it. But leave her alone. Tell your friends to lay off, or I’ll take batting practice against your balls. Are we clear?”

He gave Cameron’s arm a yank to emphasize what he said. Cameron hissed with pain. “Sawyer, I’m going to kick your ass. You know it and I know it.”

“Not this time, dickweed. I’m an inch taller and twenty-five pounds of muscle heavier. I’m not that short, scared kid you bullied and pissed on in eighth grade. You come after me again, you’ll end up in pain. You mess with Faith and I’ll need bail, as God is my witness.”

Cameron struggled, and Kyle yanked on his arm again. “I’m not kidding. We’re done, or you’ll be sorry you ever screwed with me.”

“Fine.” Cameron’s voice was shaking. “Fine! I won’t bug Faith again. I’ll tell the other guys not to even look at her.”

Kyle released him and took a step back. “I’ll be watching to make sure you do.”

Cameron shot him a look of pure loathing. “You better watch your back, Sawyer. I’ll leave Faith alone, but you’re fair game, asshole. This doesn’t change anything.”

A cold smile spread over Kyle’s face. “You’re wrong. It changes everything.”

Kyle trotted around the bases, to the cheers of his team. Homered at his first at bat. That made what he was about to do a little more palatable. Besides, it was someone else’s turn to shine.

Coach gave him a swat as he jogged into the dugout. “Not bad, Sawyer.”

“Thanks.” He accepted the high fives of his team before sneaking over to check his phone. Cade texted—he texted—to let Kyle know it was almost time. Okay, this was it. He might be thrown off the team for this, but some things were worth the cost.

He swallowed hard and went to Coach’s side. “Coach, I hate to do this, and I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important, but there’s someplace I need to be.”

Coach frowned. “We’re in the bottom of the second.”

“I know, and I swear I wouldn’t ask, but…I’m needed somewhere else.”

Coach’s frown deepened. “Is this about a girl?”

Kyle hid a wince. “Please, sir. Ledecky deserves a shot. He’s your future, and we’re up five to two. Give him a chance. I promise I’ll stay late every practice for the rest of the season. Just give me this one thing.”

Ledecky had perked up at the sound of his name. “I can do it, Coach. Give me a chance.”

Coach looked entirely bewildered, both eyebrows raised. The team started cheering around them and Kyle turned. Tristan had just hit a two-run shot. “We’re up by seven to two now. You don’t need me tonight.”

Finally, Coach relented. “Fine, okay. I don’t even want to know, but if you miss a single practice or game the rest of the season, I’ll bench you for the remainder.”

Kyle grinned in relief. “Fair enough. Thank you, sir.”

He ran to his car, dusted the dirt off his baseball pants, and drove over to the theater. So maybe the old man was right and he did smell like a yak, but he didn’t have any time to spare.

Violet was waiting at the front door, and she waved him in. “Hello, holy shoulders,” she stage-whispered, looking him over. “Nice look. I like the cleats.”

A blush crept up his neck. That girl’s gaze was like an MRI. “Have they started?”

“Yeah. Josh is already whining, and he dropped her on the first little lift.” Violet’s eyes narrowed. “He’s such a little diva. He didn’t even apologize. But I digress. You have a date.”

Kyle nodded and sneaked through the doors at the back of the theater to let his eyes adjust to the dark. Cade gave him a thumbs-up from the sound booth a few seats over.

On the stage, a crowd had gathered. There were a number of chorus dancers, and the kid with the boots must be Josh. Faith stood center stage, dressed in her fluffy skirt, a different leotard, and her ballet slippers. Even from here, he could see the bright spots of frustration standing out on her cheeks.

“Remember,” Cade whispered. “Knight in shining armor.”

“I’m fine.” And he was. All day long, he’d tested himself. After confronting Cameron, his confidence had grown each passing hour. He’d even managed a quick smile Faith’s direction during lunch. The fact that she’d looked away didn’t bother him in the least. He had a good feeling he could change her mind.

“Seriously, please tell me we’re redoing this. I can’t lift her,” Josh called to the director, who was sitting in the fifth row. “Sorry.”

“Joshua, enough.” The director waved his clipboard in frustration. “Faith, I’m so sorry. Unless I can find a stunt double in the next five minutes, we’ll have to redo the whole scene.”

“That’s your cue.” Cade pushed a button and the music started back up.

The director turned around, looking annoyed, then confused as Kyle jogged past him. Holding his nerves in check, he sprang up on the stage in one jump, ignoring the stairs entirely. “Is this where I try out for stunt double?”

The clipboard clattered to the floor. “Who are you? And why are you wearing cleats on my stage?”

Kyle stood tall next to Faith at center stage. “I’m the guy who can lift Laurey over my head.”

Faith’s mouth was hanging open. “Kyle, what are you doing?”

He winked at her and turned back to the director. “What do you say? Can I audition?”

“I’ll restart the music!” Cade called, without waiting for an answer.

Kyle turned to Faith. “I know what two of the lifts are. What’s the third?”

“Just lift me straight up by my waist, no turn.” She sounded bewildered, but pleased. Good enough. “I’ll cue you.”

He rolled his shoulders. “Let’s do it.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Remember, you asked for this.”

The music swelled and Faith twirled around, straight into his open arms. “Straight up.”

He grabbed her waist and lifted, until his arms were over his head. Faith squealed, and he brought her down.

“That was high. Okay, next move. Over there.” She pointed to stage right, whirling away from him. “Lift from last week.”

“I’m on it.” He trotted over to stage right, ignoring the delighted stares from the chorus girls and the pissy look on Josh’s face.

Faith danced all around the stage, her face crumpled in despair. He almost believed it, except for the twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth. She turned back his direction, spinning so that her back was to him. Her knees bent, and he grabbed her hips. She leaped, and he turned her in a circle as she held that bent-legged pose, just like before. Her form was beautiful, and one of the chorus girls breathed, “Wow.”

“Last one,” Faith said. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here!”

“No!” The chorus girl next to him pointed at center stage. “There, quick!”

He jumped over just as Faith spun toward him. He caught her waist, then her thigh. “We’re going all the way.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said as he lifted her from the floor.

He almost dropped her, but pulled it together, and dipped her head like yesterday. Then, to show Josh what a real man looked like, he lifted her straight up, until his arms were fully extended. Tightening his core, he balanced her all the way around as he turned.

“Holy. Shit!” a chorus girl crowed.

“Damn,” another agreed. “I want a turn!”

Kyle set Faith down slowly, gently, until her front foot was balanced, and let her go.

She was breathing hard, and her cheeks were red, but her smile stretched ear to ear. “You are the craziest guy in the entire world. And that was amazing.”

Kyle turned to the director, bowed at the waist, then ran and jumped off the stage. A couple of girls in the violin section in the orchestra pit cheered. He blew Faith a kiss and ran back up the aisle.

“Wait! Where are you going?” the director was yelling. “You got the job!”

Kyle let out a loud whoop and flung himself through the doors and out of the theater, feeling like himself for the first time in four long years.