Page 303 of Blackwood

“You sound so sad about it.”

“I’ll die with a smile,” he growls, sliding a hand down to grip my thigh.

Just as I arch into him—

“Well, that’s just rude.”

We both freeze.

Cade stands in the doorway holding a full plate like a disappointed husband who just walked in on his cheating wife. “Didn’t even wait for me? Sent me off to make you food while you guys jump each other’s bones without me.”

Lex lifts his head. “You made pancakes?”

Cade rolls his eyes. “Yes. For her. Not for your sex-demon-ass.”

I yank the hoodie back down, cheeks on fire. “It wasn’t… I mean technically we didn’t finish, or start really.”

“Uh-huh.” Cade hands me the plate and flops down beside us.

I immediately inhale a strip of bacon like I’ve been starved for months. “God, I love you,” I mumble around the grease.

He kisses my cheek. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

Lex wipes his mouth and drapes an arm around my waist, smug. “Ditto.”

We eat in sleepy silence, sun streaking across the bed, our legs tangled like it’s just another lazy morning.

Cade licks syrup off his fork. “So, what exactly should we expect at Nationals?”

I pause mid-bite, raise an eyebrow. “Pain. Glitter. Probably Hales getting into a fight with someone’s mom.”

“And my sister?” he asks.

“Oh, she’ll cry backstage, threaten to quit, then pull off a perfect triple flip into a death drop like the drama queen she is.”

Lex grins. “Can’t wait.”

“Yeah, Nationals is no joke.” I take another bite of pancake, swallow hard. “It’s two full days. Big groups and solos only dance once. They win, they go to Worlds.”

I exhale, leaning back against the headboard. “But trios and duos? You have to kill it on day one and land in the top three just to earn a shot to dance again on day two. Then on day two, you have to win first place before you can make it to Worlds.”

Lex raises an eyebrow, swirling syrup on his plate. “So no pressure at all. Just survive the bloodbath, then do it again, only flawlessly on a bigger stage with judges breathing down your neck.” He leans in, voice lower, softer. “Good thing pressure looks good on you, baby.”

“And the guest judge?” I groan, stabbing my pancake like it owes me money. “Fucking Alejandro Miguel Santibañez. TheLatin dance god. The man could choreograph a salsa with his eyes closed and still make it sexier than half the shit we’ve done all season.”

They both look at me like I’m speaking in a foreign language.

“Ugh! He’s only one of the biggest Latin choreographers in the world. He’s a living legend. I’m so nervous! Especially since the Trifecta’s doing two Latin numbers. If we screw up even a little, he’ll see it.”

Cade sets down his fork and looks at me with those damn hazel eyes. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re ready for this. You girls have trained harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s not gonna see a flaw, Bella. He’s going to see fire.”

♥♥♥

Home

Later that Night

Cade’s dinner was insanely delicious. Some creamy garlic pasta that melted in my mouth, a crisp lemony salad, and homemade bread that made me moan indecently at the table.