All I Ever Wanted(27)

"Shut up, Oliver." Grady glared at his brother.

"Guys," Arabella warned.

"This isn't doing any good," Jimmy said.

"No, this is getting ridiculous," Oliver persisted. "You can't even execute a simple shoulder shuffle. Do you even remember your right from left? I can tie a string on your finger if you need some help."


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"Here's your finger." Grady showed him which one.

"Hey!" Arabella said, but Grady ignored her.

"Come closer and do that," Oliver said.

Grady patted his chest. "Bring it."

"Oh, now you remember to pat your chest but forget every other damned time you're supposed to do it in the routine," Oliver taunted.

Arching an eyebrow, Grady showed him his other finger.

"Okay, I've had enough," Oliver growled, but Jesse stepped between them.

"Maybe we should take a break," he suggested.

Oliver turned his attention to Jesse. "All you want to do is take breaks."

"Oh, give me a break," Jesse said with a grin.

"This isn't funny!" Oliver shouted. "Your jokes are stupid."

Jesse's grin vanished. "No need to get personal. Look, the concert is already sold out. I've been telling you from the beginning that we don't have to be so damned perfect. Chill out, for fuck's sake."

Oliver huffed out a short laugh. "There's no chance in hell of that."

"You chilling out?" Jesse asked. "Uh . . . yeah."

"No, us being perfect," Oliver replied.

Jesse shook his head. "Why do you always have a stick up your ass?"

"I don't have a stick up my ass."

"Yeah, you do, and you look like you're constipated when you dance," Jesse said, drawing a glare from Oliver.

"Guys!" Arabella yelled this time, and fisted her hands on her hips. "Knock it off," she added, but then turned to Grady. "What's wrong? These moves are simplified." She raised her palms upward. "I don't get it."

"You are the weakest link," Jesse said in a low tone just loud enough for Grady to hear. While Grady realized that Jesse was joking, the comment sent him over the edge.

"Really, Jesse?" Grady shouted. "I don't think so." Okay, he knew the comeback was lame, but that was all he had. He pointed to Arabella. "Maybe it's the teacher's fault for going too fast," he said, deciding to throw some shade at the real reason he kept messing up.

"Seriously?" Arabella shook her head. "You're blaming your mistakes on me?" She tapped a finger on her chest in anger, but her gesture brought his attention to her breasts, which were clearly outlined by the tight material hugging them. 

"What if I am?" Grady asked, knowing he sounded like a five-year-old but unable to help himself.

"We're supposed to be perfectly professional, remember? Your rules. And yet you've had it in for me all week long." Arabella took a step closer, and, to his surprise, jabbed a finger into his sweaty chest. "Back off, buddy."

" ‘Buddy'?" Jesse laughed, making Grady even more angry at Arabella. "That's awesome."

"Poking me isn't exactly professional," Grady said, and his mind went where it shouldn't.

"Oh, really?" Obviously at the end of her rope, Arabella gave Grady a little added poke and it pissed him off even more. "Oliver's right. Get your head in the game."

"I said out of his ass," Oliver corrected.

Jimmy gave Oliver a little shove. "Dude, stop it," he pleaded, but his calm request went unheeded.

Things were about to get real.

"Yeah, shut the hell up, Oliver." Grady was even annoyed at Jimmy for being so damned calm and turned to him. "Why don't you just lose your shit for once? Always being in control is annoying."

"Are you serious?" Jimmy shrugged. "What good would that do? Come on, Grady. Get it together."

Grady stalked over and picked up a bottle of water, squeezing it so hard that the plastic crackled. "You know, I have a helluva lot more on my plate than these stupid dance moves."

" ‘Stupid'?" Arabella sputtered, but he ignored her. "These stupid dance moves helped make you famous." She looked ready to poke him again.

Grady drained the bottle and tossed it in the general direction of the nearby trash bin, missing his target by a mile. He didn't care. "I've had to give the okay for more merchandise, requiring me to look at hats, shirts, posters, pins, and coffee mugs until I'm cross-eyed. I've had to do countless interviews and okay several ads, posters, leaflets. The list goes on and on. So if I miss a damned dance spin or forget to pat my chest, it's nothing compared to what I've had to do all week." Of course, most of what he had said was bullshit, because he had staff doing some of the work, but he couldn't confess that it was looking at Arabella's perky ass that had made him turn the wrong way more times than he could count.