This, apparently, had been the wrong thing to say. Ed frowned at him. “Are you mad at me?”
“I just want you to drink water,” Laurie said, trying to sound encouraging.
Ed ignored him. “Are you mad because they think you're my boyfriend?”
Alcohol, Laurie decided, was an irritating substance. “No, Ed. Please drink your water.”
“Because I know a guy like you wouldn't go for a guy like me.” The hand on Laurie's leg tightened.
Now Laurie was frowning. “What do you mean, ‘a guy like me'?”
Too late he realized the folly of trying to have a rational discussion with someone as inebriated as Ed. “It's the tights,” Ed said, as if this somehow explained everything. “You look so fucking good in them.”
Laurie stared at Ed, truly lost now. And intrigued, despite his frustration. “You like how I look in my tights?”
Ed nodded. His eyes were bloodshot, but Laurie read their arousal too. “I wanted to blow you. Right there at the drinking fountain.”
“Oh,” Laurie said, because he couldn't think of how else to respond. He felt a little dizzy. “I wanted to blow you at the drinking fountain.” That first night he'd come for a private lesson. The night they'd done the tango.
Ed had thought about going down on Laurie that night?
Had he thought about this often?
Ed was shaking his head. “Don't worry. I'll leave you alone.”
It might have been a noble statement, even drunk—if Ed's hand hadn't slipped out of Laurie's to slide all the way up to Laurie's groin as he said it.
“Ed,” Laurie said, fumbling with the roving hand. Then he gasped and stilled as Ed cupped him boldly through his jeans.
“God, but I'd love to taste your cock,” Ed whispered and massaged the length of Laurie through his denim.
“Get a room!” somebody called across the table.
“Ed.” The word came out as a squeak, and Laurie's hands trembled as he peeled Ed off him and tried once again to establish him farther away in the booth. His cock, however, was now rock hard and begging Ed to come back and play again.
“I got him.” With a strength Laurie didn't have, Liam hauled Ed closer to himself. “Buddy, you're crowding your boyfriend a little. How about you sit by me for a while?”
Ed shook his head in drunken exaggeration and glowered at Liam. “Not my boyfriend. Don't call him that. Make him mad again.”
“Ed, I'm not—” Laurie tried to protest, but Liam winked at him and shook his head, cutting him off.
“Ed here is not what I'd call a cooperative drunk,” he said. “It's best to just keep him happy and redirect him when he gets to be too much.” He patted Ed's head, which was now resting on his shoulder. “Isn't that right, buddy?”
“So fucking hot in those tights,” Ed murmured back.
Even though it wasn't possible the others knew what Ed was talking about, Laurie still blushed.
“God, but I'd love to taste your cock.”
He cleared his throat and started to rise. “Really, I should get going—”
But not only did Ed protest, to Laurie's surprise, so did most of the group, insisting he just got there, offering him more non-iced Diet Coke and, God help him, Jucy Lucys. Ed's objection was loudest, however, and most troubled, and he fought out of Liam's hold to try to physically stop Laurie from going. But Liam caught him again, whispered something to him, and looked at Laurie. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
A man named Casey was recruited from the other side of the tables to Ed-sit while Liam pulled Laurie off into the corner, though Laurie noticed they stayed within Ed's line of sight and that Ed kept watching them with drunken suspicion, as if Laurie might dash for the door if he so much as turned his head away.
“I think I may have misread things a little,” Liam said. He leaned against the wall and nodded back at Ed. “I take it you two aren't seeing each other?”
Laurie's mouth opened and closed a few times. He wanted to tell the man it wasn't any of his business, but he could tell Liam cared for Ed and that he felt this was somehow pertinent information. “No,” he admitted. “To be honest, we barely know each other.” When that made Liam frown, he added, “We met at the gym. For a long time, actually, we fought every time we saw one another. And then—” He paused, trying to find the way to explain how they'd gone from adversaries to dance partners. He could come up with nothing. “Then somehow I started giving him private ballroom dancing lessons,” Laurie confessed and waited for Liam to tell him he was now even more confused, at which point Laurie would tell him to join the club.
But Liam, in fact, smiled knowingly. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Now I get it.”
Laurie arched an eyebrow at him. “Please explain, because I don't.”
Liam leaned his back against the wall and pushed his hands into his pockets as he spoke. “I assume Ed told you that he used to play football. And you've figured out that we're the Lumberjacks, his team? Well—his former team, technically, but it's not like we're going to stop hanging out with Ed because the doc told him he can't play. But it's not the same, you know. Not for him. And really, not for us. I know it upsets him and that sometimes coming out with us is too hard, much as I wish he'd just push past it. I think for Ed, we were like a family. His actual family is pretty cool, but he loved hanging with us, being with us. And it's mutual. But now he's just outside of us. He acts like he's fine, but he's not. Tonight it's hitting him hard for some reason.”
“But what does this have to do with dancing with me?” Laurie asked. He looked at Ed, though, and felt a tug in his belly. “He acts like he's fine, but he's not.” Yes. Laurie knew all about that.
Liam seemed taken aback. “Well, I mean, can't you see it? You're the one who showed him he could dance. Isn't it obvious?”
“I didn't teach him to dance,” Laurie said. “I'm more fine-tuning.”
Now Liam looked lost. “So you aren't the one who taught him to dance? With his mom?”
“No,” Laurie said. “I'm the one at the center. We both volunteer there. I was teaching aerobics, and my music was too loud.” He flushed a little at the next part. “And one night he said he'd do anything to get me to quit early, and I—well, I had him come to my beginning ballroom class to be my partner. Things have just sort of...snowballed from there.”
Liam looked disappointed. “Oh. But—hell.” He stood up a little and leaned into Laurie, looking eager. “See, here's what we were thinking, a few of the guys and I. We saw him dance once. He was good, we thought. Real good. We thought maybe he could get into it. Oh, not professional or anything. Except—well, like semipro. Like he could do contests or something. Shows. Something to get him out there again. He's a competitive guy. The doc said no football, ever, not even in the park for fun, though Ed thinks he can mess around if he's careful. But the doctor said dancing was fine. So I kept nudging Ed to do something with it. I thought he'd given up, and then when you showed up and said you were his dance instructor—” He looked hopefully at Laurie. “Could you? Could you help him get into competing somehow? Would you?”
Warning bells had been sounding during most of Liam's story, but at the direct questioning, Laurie couldn't hold back anything at all. “Absolutely not,” he said, politeness forgotten. “I'll have nothing to do with competitions.”
Liam held up his hands. “Easy. Easy, buddy. It was just a question.”
Laurie was aware, dimly, that he was overreacting, but he felt like he'd been ambushed, and it was hard to calm himself out of his panic. “It's not what you're thinking either. It's not fun. It's not like—well, I don't know what semipro football is like, but competition ballroom isn't fun. It's grueling and backstabbing and awful. No.”
“I got the no,” Liam said, using the same tone Laurie had heard him use to herd his fellow teammates at the table. “I'm really sorry you don't think that'd be something Ed could do. Because he needs something and because I can tell he really likes you.”
Now Laurie
was blushing again. “He's just drunk.”
Liam shook his head. “Not just. But—well, I guess I shouldn't even ask, since you aren't dating and you aren't as close as I was hoping.”
Laurie knew he should just let this slide, but he couldn't stop himself. “Ask me what?”
“Well, I gotta get the guy home. And he's a bit too far gone to just leave alone. Drunk and upset is not a good combination in him without a shepherd. But I can't stay. My wife is going to be mad at me for staying out as late as I am already, and I still have to get his car back for him.” He patted Laurie on the shoulder. “Don't worry about it. Butch or Jared or somebody will sit with him.”
Laurie could let this go. He could say, “Sounds like a plan. Thanks again,” and bolt. But that was not what Laurie did. He said, “No, I can do it.”
Liam's eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? He can be a handful. And he is clearly determined to get into your pants. Also, since it sounds like you haven't seen it, you should know that his place is a real pit. I mean, it's seriously bad. Most of the guys won't even go over there.”
“I'll keep him at my house,” Laurie said, ignoring the part about Ed wanting to get into his pants. “It's not far from here, and I don't work until two tomorrow.”
“He'll need to wake up and call in sick,” Liam said. “Which, given what he said about work, isn't going to go down well. But he's going to be lucky to be functional by two. And you're very likely going to be cleaning your bathroom.”
“It's fine,” Laurie insisted.
“Well, okay, then.” Liam smiled. “You've been warned, you've said it's fine, and you're willing to make sure he doesn't hurt himself or drown in his own sick. I say we do it.” He clamped a hand on Laurie's shoulder and turned back toward the group of football players. “Hey, Maurer! Come on, buddy, your show is over. Time to pack it in.”
Ed, who had been dozing fitfully against another man's shoulder, snapped his head up, blinked, and then glared at Liam. “I'm not going home,” he declared.
“No, you aren't,” Liam agreed. “You're going to Laurie's.”
Ed looked at Laurie in surprise. Then he rose immediately and crossed toward them in a somewhat straight line.
The table burst into hoots and catcalls. “He's gonna pack it in, all right,” somebody called, and Liam turned to Laurie, wincing.
Laurie, blushing, murmured, “It's all right. Let's just go.”
Ed came up beside Laurie, which was to say that he ran into him. “You're taking me home?” he asked, sliding his hand around Laurie's waist.
“Yes,” Laurie said, trying to play this cool. “You're a bit too drunk to leave alone.”
“You have to behave, Ed,” Liam scolded, coming up beside them and pulling Ed firmly away from Laurie. “Otherwise you have to go home by yourself, to your own apartment.”
“I'll be good,” Ed promised, but his hand reached out to claim Laurie's, and he wouldn't let go, not even as they wove their way through the bar back to the door.
He also insisted point blank that he ride with Laurie, not Liam.
“I don't mind,” Laurie said to Liam as Ed locked himself into Laurie's passenger seat and gave Liam a challenging look. “Really.”
“Suit yourself,” Liam said and headed over to Ed's car with the keys he'd pried out of his hands.
Ed did behave while Laurie drove. But he talked a lot.
“So you aren't mad at me?” he asked as soon as Laurie pulled onto the street.
Laurie glanced at him, frowning slightly. “Why do you keep asking that?”
“Because you look mad. Because I'm a big oaf. Because I missed dancing class.”
“Ed,” Laurie began wearily then remembered Liam's advice. “I'm not mad. Just sit back, please, so I can drive.”
Ed sat back, but his mouth kept going. “What did Liam say to you? What did he tell you? Did he say something about me? Why did you look at me all funny?”
Oh, God. He hadn't thought Ed was paying attention during that discussion. “I don't know what you're talking about,” Laurie lied. He merged into another lane of traffic.
“At the bar. You looked at me weird,” Ed insisted.
“You probably had cheeseburger on your face,” Laurie shot back.
“You looked at me like you were sad.” There was a pause, and he added, “Like the way I feel sad sometimes.”
Laurie didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on the road and kept driving.
“What did Liam say to you?” Ed asked again.
Laurie gave up. “He said you missed football and that tonight it was bothering you a lot.”
Ed nodded, looking hangdog. “Yeah.” Then he looked at Laurie and frowned. “But why did you look at me like that?”
“It doesn't matter,” Laurie said.
“I want to know.”
Laurie shifted lanes again. His hands were sweating on the wheel. “I'm trying to drive.”
“Why did you look at me like that, Laurie?”
He's drunk. He's not going to remember. And so, to shut him up, Laurie told him the truth. “Because I miss dancing the way you miss football.”
“That's not it,” Ed said accusingly, “because you still dance.”
“Not like I used to.” Laurie's hands flexed, then relaxed in a sort of defeat against the wheel. “I used to compete. A lot. I tried for every award and trophy, for every artist-in-residence. I won a lot of them. Most of them.” He kept his eyes on the road, but his mind was busy tunneling into the past. The night seemed to expand and shrink around him, making him feel strange. He couldn't stop himself from talking, though, now that he'd started.
“But I never felt satisfied. Nothing was ever enough, and so I kept reaching. And reaching.” He shut his eyes for a long blink, hating that he had to open them again to look at the road. “And then I had to stop.”
“Why did you stop? I don't understand. What do you mean, you were reaching? For what? What did you do?”
And in that moment, Laurie realized he'd never confessed it to anyone before. He'd never told anyone the story, because everyone already knew. Even with them, he didn't discuss it directly. He wasn't sure he wanted Ed to know either. He wasn't sure he wanted Ed to know how awful he had been.
Which didn't explain at all why, with that decided, he found himself telling the story anyway.
“I was in a relationship,” he said. “With a man. Another dancer. We kept it quiet, because that was what you did. Even if people suspect you're gay, they'd rather you didn't bring it up. But we started dancing together. In secret. He was into international ballroom, which I admit I turned my nose up at, at first. But Paul showed me how fun it could be. And I was good at that too—really good, especially with him. He'd tease me for being such a natural follower, but it was true. I loved performing on stage, but when I danced follower with Paul, it felt like I was coming home.
“So we danced but always in private. I'd go to his competitions and watch him with his female partners and hate them. I wanted to be them. I wanted to be the one dancing with him. I wanted to be the one to win with him. And that was how it started.”
“How what started?” Ed asked when Laurie let his pause go on a little too long.
Laurie swallowed a lump in his throat before pressing on. “That was how I convinced him that I should be his partner. I told him we should both come out. I told him we were so good that it wouldn't matter. I told him people might whisper, but in the end it wouldn't matter because we would be so amazing. I told him the two of us would take over the international dancing world the same way I'd taken over the stage. And I convinced him. We wouldn't go to a same-sex competition. We would enter into the formal competitions for everyone. The official organization. We entered as a pair, listing me as Laurie Parker, not Laurence, which was how I was always billed on stage. People assumed I was female, all the way until I stepped out with Paul on the floor.” Memory washed over Laurie, leaving him feeling cold and hollow.
“Did i
t work?” Ed prompted, sounding hopeful.
“No.” Laurie fixed his gaze on the road again. “We danced our first dance, and after that, they kicked us out of the competition. It was a huge scandal for both of us, but it was especially bad for Paul. It made people laugh at me, but it killed his career completely and nearly destroyed him psychologically as well.” He ran his hand over his thigh, feeling sad and uncomfortable. “He's doing all right now, relatively. A former mutual friend was kind enough to let me know last year. But he won't compete again. And it's all my fault.”
The last confession hurt so much it made Laurie's vision blur, and he slowed the car a little as he blinked and tried to recover. But then he felt Ed's hand on his.
Ed, though still very drunk, looked with amazing sobriety into Laurie's eyes. “It's not your fault.”
Laurie turned back to the road, trying to pull his hand away. “It is. I pushed him. He didn't want to do it, but I pushed him—”
“Then he should have said no,” Ed said, interrupting him. “He wanted to do it too. It wasn't your fault. It just happened.” He pointed in the general direction of his neck. “Just like this isn't my fault. Or the guy who landed on me. It just happened.”
Laurie tried to open his mouth to argue, but it wouldn't work. His vision blurred again, and he blinked furiously. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I'm being ridiculous.”
Ed's hand tightened on Laurie's. “No. You're not ridiculous. Not at all.”
Laurie squeezed back, and they held hands all the way off the interstate and down the street, all the way into the parking garage beneath his condo, until Laurie absolutely had to take his hand back to navigate into his space. He could feel Ed looking at him, though, could feel the intensity of his gaze, and the car began to shrink around him. Laurie didn't dare turn and look at him, because he knew somehow that it would be over if he did. What “it” was he couldn't yet determine. But he did know he wasn't ready for it.
When Ed reached for him again, he quickly opened the car door and escaped.
Liam was walking up the ramp toward him; he'd found the visitor parking, and by some miracle he'd managed to score a spot. He tossed Laurie Ed's keys. “You want help getting him upstairs?”
Dance With Me Page 11
