There was something odd in Ed's demeanor, something that made Laurie want to ask him what was wrong, but there was something else too that made him want to wait. Laurie left him briefly to cue up some music, and Ed led Laurie into the center of the open space and took him into his arms as a tango began.
“You shouldn't leave any stereo equipment in here,” Ed scolded him as he led them into the opening steps and then into a baldosa. “Hide it in the back room in that spot I showed you at the end of the day.”
“I lock the cabinet,” Laurie pointed out.
“Yes. That shows them right where to break in.”
Laurie, feeling foolish, stepped out of Ed's cazas and began a molinete. “Fine.” Except as he spun through the windmill pattern around Ed, he thought of what a huge pain it was going to be to haul the equipment around all the time. He also couldn't help noting he'd never had to do such a thing in Eden Prairie. Shutting his eyes, he followed Ed into an ocho, but the worries which had plagued him in his office caught up with him, bringing their dark cloud into this space that was normally such a relief.
But then he felt Ed's leg slide against his, stepping between Laurie's own just in time to turn Laurie's startled back step into a perfect gancho. It should have knocked him over, except Ed's frame was sturdy and strong, so well-set that when he bent Laurie back, he didn't falter even then, just arched his spine with such form it was a shame there wasn't a judge there to see them and give them a perfect score.
So perfect that when Ed righted him again, for a moment Laurie leaned into him as his dizziness went away. And then he felt the tension lurking inside his partner and felt guilty. “Sorry. I'm self-involved today.”
“I like you self-involved.” Ed brushed a kiss against the side of his temple. “Everything is going to be fine,” he promised, then led Laurie into the dance again.
Ed had a natural affinity for the Argentine tango, and as soon as he'd discovered how much Laurie enjoyed it too, he'd demanded to be shown all the steps. He'd gone through a phase where he was a little too fond of displacing Laurie's step with a sacada or halting him with a parada, though this had given Laurie the opportunity to lecture him on how while the tango might be about improvisation, it was at heart a conversation. “You don't just feel the rhythm,” he'd told him. “You must feel the soul, both of the dance and of your partner. The tango isn't something you dance. It's a story you create with another.”
It was a lecture Ed had taken to heart, and the result was beneficial not just to Ed's performance but both their enjoyment. And Ed had learned weeks ago that the best way to undo even Laurie's foulest mood was to turn on the stereo and pull Laurie into a tango embrace. It worked as well now as it always had; within a minute of the dance's beginning, Laurie was lost in the steps, doing his best to anticipate Ed's lead, taking opportunities for more advanced steps and, now that Ed had a firm footing, indulging in amagues and golpecitos, and when he was lulled into a very good mood, he would rub his thigh or foot against Ed's in a caricias. Ed had picked up on this habit as well and knew what it meant. When Laurie turned an ocho into a boleo and lingered with an extra rub of his knee against Ed's thigh, Ed grinned and bent down to steal a quick kiss.
“That's better,” he said and led them into another round with a salida.
And it was indeed better when they danced, and that night they danced for almost an hour. But once they were finished and heading out to the car, all Laurie's agitation came back again, and by the time he pulled on his seat belt, he was glowering. He saw Ed give him a long look, and he braced for another scolding on how he was taking things too seriously. But Ed just shook his head, turned on the stereo, and backed the car out of its parking space.
“Britney Spears?” Laurie asked as he recognized the song. “Again?”
“He who makes me listen to Barbra Streisand shall not complain about Britney,” Ed replied.
“You will not link that abomination in the same sentence as Streisand.” Laurie frowned. “Why did you just skip our turn?”
“Because we're not going home yet.” Ed turned on the wipers to displace the snow that had started to fall. “Liam called while you were locking up. We're going to meet the guys.”
It was all delivered so casually that only someone who knew how many answering machine messages Ed had ignored from his former team captain would understand what a watershed this was. Though Britney Spears sang annoyingly on, Laurie ignored her as he tried to respond encouragingly without letting on that he was encouraging. “Oh? That sounds nice.” He paused in case Ed wanted to expand on the announcement, but he just tapped his thumb along to the beat of “Radar.” So Laurie nudged him carefully for more details. “Where are we headed? Back to Matt's?”
“Gopher Hole. It's not far from here. I figured we might as well swing by. Otherwise I'll just have to watch you glower around the apartment again.”
That felt like a cheap shot, and Laurie wanted to call him on it, at least to point out that usually Ed ended his moodiness by instigating increasingly epic sex, but he kept quiet. Ed was going out with the guys again. This was victory enough.
The Gopher Hole was much like Matt's except it had more room and served less food. Liam and the other Lumberjacks had commandeered the back half of the bar between the bathrooms and an antiquated jukebox, the latter which several of the football players were huddled around as they argued over what they would play next. A few others were grouped around the pool table to the left of the jukebox, and the rest were littered around the tables, drinking and talking and checking out the women as they went by to use the ladies’ room.
When Liam saw Ed and Laurie come in, he rose and came over to greet them.
“Hey there! Long time, no see.” He shook Laurie's hand in a beefy grip, then grinned as he turned to Ed, who he high-fived before gripping him around the shoulders in a manly half hug. “Maurer, you dog. What the hell, man? You never come out anymore.”
“I'm here now,” Ed pointed out. He nodded at the tables. “Where should we sit?”
“Wherever you like. We're over in the corner there.” He pointed to the back by the jukebox. “I'm heading to the bar for another pitcher. Can I get you anything in particular?”
“Just a couple of glasses,” Ed said, producing a twenty from his wallet. “And here's our part of the next round.”
Liam patted Ed's shoulder again as he took the money, nodded at Laurie, then ducked around them to head toward the bar.
Ed looked nervous, Laurie thought, but then, he was too. Though he felt uncertain because he wasn't sure how to behave around all these men. It was odd, because it was a guy-centered event. A few players were flirting with some women who had come over near the pool table, but no one other than Ed had brought a date. Yet even so, Laurie felt, as he had the last time, very out of place within the group. It had been his intention to stay sober so he could drive, leaving Ed free to drink and relax with his friends, but when Ed passed him a tall, pale glass of cheap beer from the tap, Laurie took it, rationalizing that one wouldn't hurt him and might even help him relax.
He sipped frequently at it as he settled in between Ed and a broad-chested man Ed had introduced as “Casey, the best damn halfback in Minnesota,” smiling and nodding along with the two men without quite paying attention. Mostly he let his eyes wander around the bar, taking in the noise, the lights, realizing that he hadn't spent much time in bars since the smoking ban had gone into place, and it was nice. When he commented on that, Ed laughed and pointed out it had been almost five years since the ban. Feeling self-conscious and slightly unnerved at how much of a hermit he'd become, Laurie retreated once more into his glass.
And that was when he realized he'd been sipping at it for an hour, and it hadn't gone down but an inch.
“Been takin’ care of ya,” Casey said with a wink when Laurie commented on this. He held up a pitcher, then poured the remainder of it into Laurie's glass, filling it again. “You're Ed's man, and Ed's man is always one of ours
.”
This both warmed Laurie and got his hackles up at once. “His man always is, is he?” He looked accusingly at Ed, who suddenly became very interested in his own glass.
“There have been two,” Ed said, still focusing on the glass. “You and one other.”
“One?” Somehow that seemed worse. Laurie knew he had too much beer and was being ridiculous, but he now found himself wondering what old flame was going to appear and wreck everything.
“That was that guy from your work, right? The suit?” Casey laughed and slapped the table. “God, what a fish.”
“Arnie was a mistake,” Ed said, but he smiled ruefully as he did so and looked up at his former teammate with a glint in his eye. “It was Liam's barbecue I took him to. Remember? And he got drunk and fell in the pool?”
“And then called us all a bunch of meathead idiots when we laughed at him.” Casey shook his head as he tipped back his glass, but when he put it down, he was grinning.
Ed, however, was not. He smiled a half smile, then squeezed Laurie's arm before rising. “I need to take a leak.” He left the table, leaving Laurie and the halfback alone.
Casey didn't seem to mind. He toasted Laurie's glass as he started to lift it for another drink. “To you, buddy, for bringing Ed back again. And for being so good for him.”
Laurie nodded a little hesitantly and took his refuge in his beer. He was still uncertain about all these athletes taking in a homosexual couple with such grace.
“So you're the dancer, huh?” Casey grinned. “You gonna show us your moves?”
That made Laurie laugh. “What, here?”
“Fuck yeah, here!” He nodded to the player now dancing with one of the ladies by the jukebox. “We got tunes. We got space. What else you need?” He nudged Laurie's glass. “More to drink?”
Laurie had drunk enough that his head was spinning slightly, and it made him cheeky enough that he decided to deflect with teasing. “Tell you what. I'll dance if you dance with me.”
“All right, then,” Casey said and started pushing up from the table.
“Wait!” Laurie grabbed his arm and tugged him frantically back into his chair. “I was kidding!”
“I'm not. Come on! Let's go dance.”
Laurie eyed him suspiciously. “Is this some sort of setup?” He glanced around the room. “I mean—honestly, you can't be that accepting that you'd get up in a bar and dance with a man.”
Casey laughed. “Do it every time I get on the field.” When Laurie didn't relent, he sank back into his chair and braced his elbows on the table. “Look. I won't lie to you: some of the guys aren't cool. But you know, it's not like just because we play football we're idiots. And Ed's one of us. He made it clear long ago he is who he is, and that's that. And it's cool.” He shrugged. “My older brother is gay. I watched him marry a woman and be miserable, but when he got out of that and started dating men, he turned into a whole new person. He was happy, I think, for the first time in his life. Who's gonna argue with that? And for your information, I danced at his wedding last year. He went down to Iowa and got married. He lives in Des Moines now. So yeah, I'm cool dancing with a gay dancing instructor.” He lifted his eyebrows. “You cool with dancing with an overweight semipro halfback? Or you all prissy and proud like Ed's other guys?”
Laurie blushed, but he smiled too and pushed away his glass. “I'm not.”
Casey rose and held out his arm. “So we're dancing, right?”
Laurie pushed back from the table and rose as well, giving himself a second to let the room stop spinning before he smiled his bravest smile and said, “Right.”
Blondie was playing when Ed came back from the bathroom. Someone had turned the jukebox up too, which normally would have had everyone complaining, but nobody was this time. In fact, everyone was gathered around it, intermittently applauding and shouting, “Woot!” and “Get down, Casey!” Grinning, Ed swiped his beer from the table and hurried over to see what was going on. But when he saw, he stopped, arrested. Casey was dancing with Laurie.
Like, dancing with him. There wasn't much you could do to “Hanging on the Telephone,” but Casey probably couldn't have done much to anything, so they were doing some sort of jitterbug thing that Ed, budding ballroom snob, noted didn't even really have a form. And Casey was a shitty lead. He could see Laurie trying to move into more advanced moves, but then Casey would yank him back into poorly supported dip, and Laurie would shriek and laugh and clutch his arms to keep from hitting the ground. Then they'd get up and do it all over again.
Part of Ed was jealous, but not really. He'd seen Casey go glassy-eyed over cleavage, and anyway, his wife would kill him. He did, though, check out the faces of the other players around the edges of the room. Most were just laughing, and only a few looked uncomfortable. The women actually looked more upset than anyone else, like they'd just lost their leverage over their best chances for free drinks and maybe something lucky later.
Laurie caught sight of Ed and stumbled. Casey turned him away in a spin, but Laurie's eyes kept coming back to Ed. They were bright from fun and fuzzy from drink, but Ed read the question there too. Is this okay?
He grinned and raised his glass to his lover. “Show ‘em how it's done, babe.” Relief washed over Laurie before he yelped at Casey's crude jerking of him into a turn, and Ed felt warm, loving that Laurie had worried what he'd think.
When the song finished, everyone applauded, including Ed. He knew what was coming next, though, even before Liam turned to him and said, “What about you, Maurer? Gonna show us what you've got?”
The crowd parted for him as he came forward, and Casey winked at him before relinquishing a flushed and breathless Laurie to him and disappearing into the observers. The setup Ed had suspected was now pretty much confirmed, but he didn't mind. To be honest, he was a little grateful. He'd come out of the bathroom thinking he couldn't put off telling Laurie the news any longer, only to find Laurie dancing. Hell yes, he'd rather dance right now.
Laurie, though, still looked a little uncertain. “I didn't know so many people would start watching.”
“Even more are gonna once we start,” Ed boasted, but when he saw the flicker of unease in Laurie's face, he bent to brush a subtle kiss across his hair. “Hey, it's cool. It's just us. With extra people.”
“I know. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be ridiculous.” Laurie listed a little into him. “It doesn't help that somehow I managed to get drunk.”
Ed squeezed Laurie's shoulder. “It's okay, babe. I got you. So what do you say? Want to show these bozos how two guys really dance together?”
Laurie nodded. “Not a tango, though. I'm not sober enough.”
“How about a nice, easy rumba?” Ed slid his hand down Laurie's arm to capture his fingers as he nudged his way to the jukebox. “We'll stick with Blondie too, I think.”
They took their place in the middle of the space the crowd had left for them. Ed could feel Laurie's nervousness and gave his back a gentle caress as he took him into a rumba embrace. “I got you, babe. I promise.”
Laurie just nodded and stared at the center of Ed's chest. Then the opening notes of “Man Overboard” drifted above their heads, and they were dancing.
It felt so fucking good. Not just to be dancing with Laurie but to be dancing with him in front of other people. And yeah, it helped that it was the guys, the guys before whom Ed had been so spectacularly unmanned by his injury. And yes, there was an extra edge to looking, he knew, very suave and sexy while he danced with a guy. It made him bold, and he pushed their form a little, sending Laurie out into spins and turns until Laurie tightened his hands on Ed as he finally pulled him back into the embrace.
“I'm going to throw up on you,” Laurie warned, “if you don't dial it down.”
“Sorry,” Ed said, except he really wasn't. They'd been laughing and wooting for Casey, but they were applauding for Ed and Laurie. He stroked Laurie's back soothingly. “Got carried away.”
Laurie smiled. “
I know. And it'd be okay if I weren't drunk.” The fact that Laurie wouldn't have done this at all sober hung between them, unspoken, but as they looked at one another, they both thought it. Laurie sighed. “Okay, I'll admit, I'm having fun. And I wouldn't mind shaking it up—so long as it isn't literal.” His fingers tickled lightly against Ed's neck. “I have a few ideas. We could borrow some things from tango and other dances, and some—” He bit his lip. “Or not.”
“No, let's do it,” Ed urged him. “Just tell me what to do.”
And so they did.
As Blondie sang on, Laurie whispered moves, and Ed executed them, dipping into every reservoir of dancing knowledge Laurie had given him and learning a few there on the spot. His favorite was when Laurie had Ed spin him around, and they did some sort of backward rumba. When Ed leaned in and nuzzled Laurie's neck, the crowd went wild. Laurie, though, nearly lost his step.
“Sorry,” Ed murmured, except once again, he wasn't.
“No, it's good,” Laurie said as they did a few steps of basic rumba to recover. “Just don't actually nuzzle me. Accents like that are good staging, and they help the audience in, but they need to be near, not spot-on, because if they surprise me, they distract me.” He reached up and ran his hand up and over Ed's hair, then down over his ear before resting his palm against Ed's neck. The crowd went wild, but Ed's skin was prickling because Laurie had just barely touched him. Laurie smiled. “You want to invite them into the embrace, and you do that by leaving space.”
“Got it.” Ed raised his eyebrows. “Okay. You ready to wow them again?”
“Yes,” Laurie said, smiling, and away they went again.
The crowd loved them. The song helped—the music was bouncy, and Debbie Harry was as sexy as ever. Ed spun Laurie out and drew him back in time to move him through another form. When the song was over, everyone cheered, and Ed gripped Laurie's hand and grinned like an idiot as they took a bow together.
God, it was almost as much fun as a game.
Dance With Me Page 28
