Rival: A Feuds Novella (The Feuds Series) by Avery Hastings Read Free Book Online

he was taking an interest in her dancing, and half of her was dismayed to have misunderstood his intentions.
    “Why don’t you just show me the beginning of your routine,” he suggested. “I’ll watch with a careful eye.” He winked, and part of her felt mad that he kept teasing her, plus awkward at the implication of scrutiny—but there was no choice. She had to bring her best game to the performance.
    “I’m going to be dancing to music from
Le Sacre du Printemps,
” Davis told him. “Can you cue up the ‘Glorification of the Chosen One’?”
    “The Rite of Spring.”
Seth nodded approvingly. “Great choice. Challenging, but beautiful if you nail it.”
    “I’ll nail it.”
    “Are you the chosen one?” Seth asked as he cued up his DirecTone. “Or maybe the better question is, why did you choose this one?”
    “It was very controversial when it was first performed,” Davis explained. “It was the most avant-garde ballet in the early twentieth century. It almost caused a riot because it was so groundbreaking. The music and choreography both.”
    “You’re telling me everything I already know,” Seth reminded her. He walked over to her and pulled her arms above her head, easing her gracefully into a full-body stretch. Davis’s breath caught in her throat. “Why did
you
choose this?”
    “It was my mother’s favorite.” Davis’s voice was quiet. The routine she was about to perform was one she’d practiced for years in secret. It was a derivation of the one that had made her mother famous as a debut prima ballerina with the New Atlantic Ballet Company.
    As Davis began to dance to the strains of Stravinsky’s beautiful and eerie score, she lost herself entirely. It was a shock when Seth circled her waist with his hands, lifting her higher into the air when she moved into her
grande jeté
.
    “You need to jump just a little higher here,” he said when he let her down gently, his hands lingering at her waist. “Otherwise you won’t have time to fully straighten your lines.”
    “I’ve actually been struggling with this,” Davis admitted, shaking her head in frustration. If only she could jump as high as he’d lifted her, but on her own. “I don’t know how to get there. I’ve tried and tried—”
    “You just need to change your transition in order to get maximum momentum before you leap,” Seth suggested. “Also, your preparation is too dramatic. It diminishes the effect of the
grande jeté
itself, which should really be your principal focus in this moment. What if you try switching up a
pas de bourrée couru
for the
glissade
?”
    “It’ll emphasize my jump,” Davis realized, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it herself.
    “And it’ll prepare you better. You’ll literally be running into the big jump. Just make sure your feet stay close together, and really push through your heels as you move into the jump.”
    Davis nodded, and Seth restarted the music. This time, with the new step preceding the jump, she soared. She laughed when she landed; it had felt so effortless. Seth ran over and pulled her into a tight hug. “Nailed it,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t pull away, instead bringing his hand to her chin. His thumb flitted against her cheek. “You’re an incredible talent.” Davis felt her body naturally melting into his. Hearing his words of praise lit something in her. She hadn’t realized how much Gaby had been affecting her, but now, hearing that someone she admired believed in her … there was so much possibility.
    “That was amazing advice,” she said, pulling back from his embrace despite her own reluctance. The bare skin on her back still tingled from where his arms had brushed against it, but the desire to improve her routine was giving her a rush of adrenaline. All she wanted to do was dance.
    “I’d love to see the whole thing,” he said.
    “Absolutely.”
    The next forty-five minutes whirled by like a tempest; Davis danced as if her body