“Look, Archer.” Mateo’s voice was a heavy bass, a vibration in the center of Archer’s chest. “That was another lifetime. Now here we are in the fucking wilderness and you have six entire shows to learn and I’m missing dinner, so I suggest you stop talking and put your ballroom shoes on.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure.” Archer fumbled with the zipper on his bag. “You’re teaching us the choreo?”

“Is that a problem?”

Oh my God, Mateo Dixon is going to watch me dance. “No, sir.” And I called him sir. Fuck. Archer wanted to smack himself in the forehead. But a hint of a smile flickered on the corner of Mateo’s mouth for a second—no, probably his imagination.

“Betty’s your partner for Retro,” Mateo said, nodding at the tiny blonde when she appeared from the wings with a water bottle and towel. She smiled at Archer, at least.

“Hi, I’m Archer,” he whispered to Betty when Mateo went to fiddle with the audio equipment. “Is your name actually Betty or does he call you that because you’ve got a blond ponytail?”

She laughed. “It’s actually Betty. Nice to meet you, Archer. Or should I say Archie?”

Now it was his turn to chuckle as he bent to lace his ballroom shoes. “When did you get here?”

“Yesterday. I drove—left right after we got the gig. There’s so much choreo to learn—”

“If you two are done talking,” Mateo interjected, “we start in the wings.”

“Right. Sorry.” Come on, Archer. Time to focus. “I’m ready.”

Mateo led them through the blistering choreography for “Disco Inferno” and “Ladies’ Night,” and Archer did his best to keep up, despite the fact that he was still completely starstruck. Mateo Dixon is touching my arm. Mateo Dixon’s thighs are like tree trunks. Mateo Dixon smells amazing. Betty was a huge help, having already picked most of it up, and gave him little nudges here and there to keep him on track.

“Thanks,” he whispered when her chin bob once again told him which way to go.

“I got you,” she whispered back. “Archie and Betty need to stick together.”

Archer was starving and dripping with sweat himself when Mateo declared them done at six thirty. “Hurry and grab dinner before the dining hall closes. Be back here ready to go before eight tomorrow morning.” Mateo wiped his forehead with his shirt hem again.

“Thanks for … Thanks,” Archer said, not staring at Mateo’s abs.

Mateo took a long pull on his water bottle, throat bobbing, before he looked at Archer again. “You don’t need to thank me. Here to do a job, same as you.”