Luc shook his head. "It's just the start. I need to spend more time analysing it all. You might need to consider a change of direction, though."
He noticed Ken's knuckles becoming white as he gripped the steering wheel. He knew Ken had always had fixed goals for the dance school. They'd entered dancers into festivals at one point; Luc remembered Adam entering several. But in the end, Ken had decided that splitting the focus of the dancers was counterproductive and they'd stopped doing them.
"I know exam prep is important to you," Luc began.
"We're giving youngsters the skills they need to become professional dancers," his mum said. "Technique and discipline is more important than putting on glitzy shows. Only parents and relatives attend anyway."
"Not to mention thrusting kids on stage too young can do more harm than good," Ken growled.
"Some kids thrive on it," Luc pointed out; Adam had.
"And for others, the pressure to win is too intense," his mum said. "Those things become so competitive. Pushy parents are never a pretty sight, but festivals tend to bring out the worst in them."
Luc clamped his lips together. He understood their reservations, but they were also missing out on students who were interested in both festivals and exams. Not to mention the additional revenue from private lessons. To attract more students, all they'd have to do was choreograph winning routines for their existing students. But then, that would make it all about the competition, about winning. Luc had to agree that that had the potential to create a toxic environment, where only the best of the best thrived and young hopes were dashed. Then again, the reality was that no matter how good the teachers, only a fraction of the students would want to go professional and not all of them would be good enough, or resilient enough, to make it.
During the rest of the drive, he asked them about their current marketing strategies and when they'd last updated their website, which in his opinion was very tired. The longer they talked, the more he realised he'd taken on a mammoth task.
He recognised the street his parents lived on as soon as they turned into it. The only change was in the cars parked on each side of the road. All the houses were the same, with their small, neat front gardens. He guessed some of the people inside must have changed, but he’d never been that friendly with most of their neighbours anyway. They lived in a middle terrace, which was four storeys high, including a cellar, which had been converted into a dance studio, complete with a mirrored wall and dance barres. His room, like Adam's, had been on the top floor. He remembered the steep stairs being a pain in the ass, especially once he'd started going out drinking with his mates. Several times he'd not bothered and had passed out on the sofa in the living room instead.
His stomach rolled as he got out of the car and followed his parents inside. It hadn't changed either. The wallpaper was still the same, if a little more faded than Luc remembered. The hallway was decorated in cream, with tiny red and pink flowers. The carpet was red, the exact same shade as the flowers. The juicy scent of beef and gravy hit him almost instantly, causing him to inhale deeply. It was delicious, yet it made his stomach roll more, maybe because he knew that following the scent would lead him to Adam.
"I'll take my case up to my room," he said, reaching out to take it from his dad.
Ken held onto it. "It can wait." He gestured through to the kitchen. "Don't you want to say hi to Adam?"
No."Sure." Luc forced a smile onto his lips.
Ken parked the suitcase at the foot of the stairs and then wandered through to the kitchen. "Smells good. Almost ready?"
Luc didn't hear Adam's response, even though Ken's voice had rung out loud and clear. He took a deep breath to give himself some courage and stepped forward, but stopped when his mum touched his arm. He turned to look at her, her forehead and the skin around her eyes crinkling as she frowned up at him.
"The feud between you and Adam..."
Luc shrugged. "What feud? As far as I'm concerned, it's history."
There had never been a feud. He'd acted like a dick towards Adam, destroying the steadfast friendship they'd enjoyed for over half their lives.
The way her eyebrows pinched together told him that Adam probably didn't feel the same way. Did Adam still hate him for all the stupid things he'd said and done? There was only one way to find out. The dose of courage from his first deep breath had vanished, thanks to his mum's interruption, so he took another and then strode into the kitchen.
He exhaled sharply as soon as he saw Adam, the fucked-up emotions immediately swirling within him, even though he'd hoped to God they wouldn't.
His younger stepbrother was in the process of setting the table. He was wearing skinny jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt, which clung to his defined muscles and showed off his lithe body. Fuck. He was even hotter than he'd been at twenty, when Luc had last seen him. His dark hair was spiked with gel. His face was half angles, half soft lines, from his long, straight nose, to his sharp, high cheekbones and his round jaw and thick lips.
Shit. Luc jerked his gaze away and stared down at the floor. He couldn't let himself think that way about Adam. He shifted his jeans as surreptitiously as he could and then pulled out a chair and sat down, shuffling as far under the table as he could, to hide his wildly inappropriate desire.
"Hi," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as high-pitched in reality as it had in his head. He forced himself to lift his head and look directly at his stepbrother.
Adam glared at him, his dark eyes smouldering with barely concealed anger. "Hi." He thumped a plate down on the placemat in front of Luc. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he turned away and started to make drinks.
Well fuck. Adam did still hate him. Not that Luc could blame him and, in many ways, that would probably make things easier. If Adam had been cheerful and friendly, Luc wouldn't have had any excuse to avoid him. He needed to stay away from his stepbrother. He needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, just like he'd done from the moment he'd realised he was attracted to him.
Luc still remembered the exact second he'd realised he felt something stronger than brotherly love for Adam. Even at fourteen, he'd known no one—especially not Adam—would understand. Nor would anyone care about the four letters that made his attraction fractionally less wrong. They were stepbrothers. Their parents had married when he was six; Adam had been five. They'd grown up together. Called each other's parents Mum and Dad. Called each other brother. And, for the longest of times, they'd been closer than any biological siblings he knew. He'd hoped, prayed, that his feelings for Adam would have vanished in the four years they'd been apart, but his aching cock told him otherwise. If he was going to stay and help his parents, he was going to have to get his lust under control. Quickly.
Chapter Four
Adam
Being civil was going to be harder than Adam had anticipated. Just the sight of Luc made him feel like a kid again. It brought back memories of crying where no one could see him, because he didn't understand why his brother—his best friend—had humiliated him at school again. Those cruel words had cut so deeply and now they were all flooding back into Adam's mind, as he glared at Luc over the kitchen table. During dinner, everything about Luc irritated him: the way his dark hair was immaculately swept back, with not a strand out of place; the way he wouldn't lift his dark eyes to meet his stare; the designer clothes Luc wore that gave an impression of casual, even though the whole outfit had clearly been carefully chosen. Christ, even the way Luc's mouth moved as he chewed and swallowed the food that Adam had cooked annoyed him. It was a face he could easily punch, but wouldn't. Luc was here to help their parents and Adam had to put up with that.
