Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(122)

“…the talent breathes life & fire into the classic Aerial Ethereal reverie…”

“…the music dominates once again…”

Geoffrey spreads his arms. “And I happen to agree with the L.V. Times. You know why? The proof is in the numbers.”

We haven’t heard about sales. No one in AE’s financial has shared them with us.

I stiffen while he draws out the news.

Geoffrey skims his goatee with three fingers. “April and May have sold out, but summer sales are shit.” He points a threatening finger. “If there are thousands of unfilled seats come June and July, you’re all in boiling water. This is a sinking ship that I’m personally bailing out, and I will push you as hard and as far as humanly possible.”

His gaze lands on me.

And Luka.

“How badly do you want this show to survive?”

So badly, but my belief in our choreographer’s “talent” vanished around the time he tried to emotionally push Luka.

I don’t trust him, and I’m afraid of playing into Geoffrey’s hand.

But he’s our boss, and as long as Antoine Perrot says to listen to Geoffrey, we can’t disobey him.





Act Forty-Five Baylee Wright



In the crowded physical therapy room, I plop down in an ice bath, the metal tub uncomfortable and cold.

I feel like a monster truck ran over me. We perform for Infini twice a day, five times a week, and on our two days off, we’re still in the gym for twelve hours, per Geoffrey’s high-stress demands. With no guarantees that Infini will be renewed for another year.

Marc usually sends out congratulatory emails after a show’s first month. We received none.

I could sink beneath the ice, but I try to remember we have time, still. I shiver from the cold bath.

My mom’s music isn’t lost yet.

I hold onto a glimmer of hope. Just a glimmer.

It helps.

Then I peer at Luka’s tattooed leg. He stands close by, skillfully putting on Kinesio tape across his bicep.

When Luka notices me staring, he hikes his leg over the tub, foot on the edge. I have a complete view of his designs now, and he smiles while he bites off tape from the spool.

The way he’s looking at me, I feel like he’s remembering earlier this morning. We had deep sex on his bed. The kind that filled me to the brim and vibrated my limbs as I came.

Dimitri wasn’t in the room, thank God.

But it’s been hours, and the fullness stays between my legs. It’s a good soreness. I feel like Luka is still completely and utterly inside of me.

I smooth my lips, the ice bath tempering my heat. “What’s this one?” I skim a design on his shin with my finger.

Luka tilts his head. “A skyline…” He sounds unsure.

My teeth start to chatter. “You don’t know.” I try to give him a serious look, but he keeps smiling and my teeth keep clanking. “Stopiznotfunny.” I slur, groan, and slump over the tub.

We have a date tonight watching the Mets vs. Cubs—I smile at the floor dizzily.

This is why I’ve blocked out the date. I feel like a love-struck fool.

Luka retracts his leg and crouches beside me, a full-on grin. “You always said it was ‘cool’ that I got random tattoos at the spur of the moment.”

I whisper, “Because I was with you.” I bite down to stop the teeth-chatter.

Luka’s eyes twinkle. “Those are my favorite tattoos, by the way. The ones where you were with me. I remember all of them.”

“Mmmhmm.” I’m trying not to smile.

Luka pockets his tape and then snatches a cotton towel. I stand and step out of the tub, water dripping down my spandex shorts and sports bra. I walk straight into his embrace, and he wraps me up in the towel and his arms.

Hugs from Luka Kotova are the best of all time.

So tight and comforting, they deserve trophies and medals. This particular hug pulls me firm against his chest, even with my arms tucked to my A-cups.

“I’m getting you wet,” I say.

He dips his head and whispers, “Not as wet as you’re going to be tonight.” He starts murmuring all the things he plans to do to me, and my cheeks start heating, my breath shallow.

I try not to smile when he mentions his cock filling me deep again. Then he presses his lips to my head. He’s dirty and then so sweet.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

We flinch slightly at Robby’s incoming presence. Luka’s cousin snickers as he walks past and waves us to go on, kiss.

Other artists on med beds and in ice baths watch us curiously. I freeze, and Luka feels me tense up in his arms.

So it’s not the first time all the attention has veered onto our relationship. This happens at least twice a day. I shouldn’t be put-off; I’m a people-watcher, I understand the allure.

The problem is that people fought for us. I feel like we have to show we’re the best couple in Aerial Ethereal. The pressure is already high at work. Now this.

It’s a lot to live up to.

“Kiss! Kiss!” Robby claps to the word. “Kiss!”

Luka ignores him easily and digests my reaction. I’m not annoyed at Robby; I’m just thinking. I eye a couple young girls who whisper by a medicine cabinet.

Luka must see my mind reeling. “We don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Bay.”