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“I’ve got Tiny to thank for that,” Xeno says, sliding his gaze from River back to me.
For the next half an hour we sit and talk, enjoying each other’s company, until Xeno gets up and excuses himself. I capture his hand, looking up at him. “Should I be worrying?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nope, five minutes and the guys will be here. I just need to check in with Jasper, the Maitre d’. I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” I frown. He’s acting cagey and I’m not sure I like it.
Xeno presses his finger against the crease in my brow, then strokes slowly down my nose before bending down, cupping my face and kissing me breathless. By the time he finishes I’m too flustered to call after him as he strides away. “No fair,” I finally manage to mutter.
“You really are a lucky bitch,” Clancy says, chuckling.
Just when I’m about to go look for Xeno, the lights dim in the club, casting us all into darkness. A familiar tune begins, the piano chords sounding out around the club as it descends into silence.
“Oh. My. God. This is it!” Clancy whisper-shouts under her breath. She grasps my hand on the table and squeezes. “It’sWhen We Were Young! I love this track. I might cry!”
I’m about to respond when Adele begins to sing, and the stage is slowly illuminated to reveal her sitting behind the piano, her fingers moving expertly over the keys. She looks stunning in a simple white blouse and wide-legged black trousers, her hair up in a sleek chignon and her make up perfect. The audience falls into raptured silence, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at her beautiful voice, but it isn’t her singing that has me gasping.
It’s my Breakers.
“What. The. Fuck?” Clancy exclaims, her fingers squeezing mine in a death grip. “They’redancing!”
My mouth drops open in shock, no words forming as I watch York, Xeno, Dax, and Zayn spin out onto the stage in a series of side-split leaps. They jump so high that Adele smiles and the crowd gasps.
My heart… it fucking gasps with them.
Bare chested and wearing loose white trousers that sit low on their hips, showing off their beautifully defined muscles and stunning tattoos, my Breakers dance. The move fluidly around the grand piano, with light, graceful steps that are full of emotion and feeling. The only dance I’ve ever seen them do together is hip-hop, so I’m stunned by the gentleness, and the absolutely stunning expression oflongingandlovethat fits perfectly with the lyrics.
They’re just so… so beautiful.
“This is for you. You know that, right?” Clancy whispers, her voice choked with tears. “Jesus. I can see why you love them so much. I thinkI’min love with them all a little.”
“Me too,” River adds softly.
I can’t answer. I can’t seem to do much more than breathe, and even that is difficult. My hands begin to shake, my throat tightening, clogging with heavy tears. Every step they make, every move across the stage, every word Adele sings and the incredible conviction of their dancing, it does something to me. It gives mehope. Hope that despite our mistakes, despite our bad decisions, despite our circumstances, despite the people trying to destroy us, we have a chance to be happy. Really, really happy.
We were lost for so long. All of us wrapped up in our own pain, afraid to move forward, afraid to forgive, afraid to love again. Now we’ve found a way back to each other. Through dance, we found a way toseeeach other once more. To see who we really are beyond the various masks we all wear to protect ourselves from the world.
Right now, they’re not the Breakers, they’re not gangsters or members of the Skins, they’re not the owners of this club, they’re not even my guys. They’redancers. They’re their own true selves. They’re the men they were always supposed to be and it’s a beautiful thing to watch.
Xeno dances with a freedom I’ve never seen before. He’s usually more guarded, more protective of who he truly is. But I see more of his heart than ever before as he launches into the air in a front flip and lands on light feet. His chest heaves as he looks out into the audience, at me, and even though he must only be able to see darkness and the faint glow of the candles flickering, I feel the connection, it zings across my skin as I break out in goosebumps.
“Holy fucking shit,” Clancy mutters.
Xeno steps back into the shadows and Zayn steps forward, grinning, then he throws himself into a series of hip-hop moves that astound the audience with a display of his genius. Zayn transitions from ahead slideinto awindmillthen aturtlebefore flipping upwards and finishing up withhappy feet,reminding me of a time when things were so much simpler, even though it didn’t feel that way at the time. It reminds me of when we were young, when life was less complicated. He throws a smile into the audience, winking sexily and I know it’s just for me.
“These guys...” Clancy mutters,and those tears I was holding inside begin to slide down my face. This is their way of expressing their love. It’s an apology for the three-year absence, for the hurt and the longing. This is forgiveness. This is…everything.
“I know…” I whisper, utterly entranced as Zayn steps back and York steps forward, high-fiving as they swap places.
York’s dance is a mixture of joy, grace and exuberance. There’s a freedom to the way he tap dances that is impossible to replicate, and a power that comes from a place deep inside, from his soul. Every step, every shuffle-ball-change, every stomp, every flare of his arms, every fucking droplet of sweat is York giving himself to me.
“I swear York is Fred Astaire reincarnated,” Clancy says, as enraptured as I am. “Wait, actually more like Bill ‘Bojangles’ Robinson. He’s in-fucking-sanely good. I’m in awe, Pen.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “Me too.”
The spotlight falls on Dax next, illuminating him in a soft yellow glow as he performs a series of pirouettes, spinning on the spot with his right leg extended then bent as he turns, moving so fast and with such elegance that there isn’t one person in the club who isn’t astonished by his gratefulness. Finishing with a side split, his left foot flat on the floor, his right toe pointing to the ceiling and the material of his trousers leg sliding down to his hip revealing even more ink, the audience goes nuts. They cheer and clap, in awe of this huge, muscular, tattooed man performing ballet with such dexterity and finesse.
“Fuck me!” Adele exclaims, saying what everyone else is thinking.
