They walked in silence, the trees swallowing up the resort behind them until it felt like they were the only two people on earth. Their path met up with a broader, smoother one, and they continued up a moderate incline.

“Where are we going?” Archer asked when his calves were starting to burn.

“Right … here,” Mateo said, stopping and turning off the flashlight.

Archer blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. They were in a clearing of packed grass ringed by small boulders and maples, white flowers winking at them from the shrubs below. It was lovely. “What’s this place?”

“There are hiking trails all around the lake, and the resort does yoga and aerobics classes here sometimes when the weather’s nice. It’s not perfect, but since we’re blocking and not en pointe or anything, it should work.”

Archer nodded and dropped his bag. Guess he wouldn’t need his ballet shoes. He kicked off his flip-flops. Bare feet, it was.

Mateo followed suit, and they stepped together into the center of the clearing.

“Alright, so…” Mateo started. “We’re dancing to ‘Dance of the Blessed Spirits,’ from Orfeo ed Euridice. Do you know it?”

Archer nodded and grinned. “Did my first ballet recital to that song.”

Mateo paused, blinking. “You did?”

He nodded again. “I was four.”

“That’s crazy.” Mateo scratched his head. “I did, too.”

A surprised laugh escaped Archer’s lips. “What? No way.”

They stood, smiling at each other, until Mateo cleared his throat and settled into position. “We start in third, and fondu…”

Mateo led him through the steps—entrechat, piqué en tournant, cabriole … He was patient and steady, hands sure against Archer’s waist, supporting him exactly when required. It was weird for Archer because of course he’d always been the one supporting his partner, but now Mateo was there for him through lifts and pirouettes. It was an athletic number, too, with plenty of leaps and jumps, and even though they weren’t going full out, it left Archer sweating.

“Then we finish with a pirouette into double tour”—Mateo demonstrated effortlessly, pirouetting before whirling through the air in a double turn, then landing on a knee, arms extended gracefully—“down to knee.”

Damn. Seeing the muscle and power behind Mateo’s dancing, right up close under the moonlight … Archer could barely swallow as his mouth dried out. “Got it. Water break?”

The silver light reflected the sweat glistening along Mateo’s hairline. “Sure.”

Across the path was a boulder, jutting out over a rise. The lake glimmered through a gap in the trees below them. Mateo sat and stretched his legs out. Archer climbed on next to him. The silence between them was thick, punctuated by the ever-present crickets.

“So … this is your first season at Shady Queens?” Archer asked.

Mateo looked at him sharply, eyebrow raised. “You know it is.”