* * *
“Will, if you don’t take this shot right now, I will never,everforgive you,” Klair shouts over the deafening bass, shoving another dangerous vodka shooter in my face. We’ve made our way into the heart of New York City nightlife and Klair is in her element. Dressed with the intention to turn every head in the club, and succeeding, she beams in her party attire, a tight and sequined gold plunge dress, complete with the obligatory “Birthday Bitch” sash and matching tiara.Subtle.
I’ve always said if I was straight, I’d marry Klair on the spot. Beyond her obvious beauty, she has the kindest, most selfless heart and truly makes everyone feel better about themselves. I can’t help but laugh as she wraps her arms around my neck and smashes our faces together, looking me right in the eye.
“Look, I know you’re missing ourfearlessleader.” Her words are only slightly slurred thanks to the unknown amount of shots she’s been sneaking behind my back. “But please have fun tonight. I want you to…AHH! Oh my God, you came!”
Klair, who is making my ears bleed with her deafening screams, sprints—well, tries to…she is wearing sky-high heels after all—and launches into the open arms of a tall, devilishly handsome stranger. Waving me over, she turns and is suddenly more radiant than before. Despite the dim lighting, I can see how wide her smile is, looking up at who I can only assume is Dean, the guy she recently started seeing.
Casual, huh? She’s a goner.
I remind myself to grill her about the seriousness of this new development as I reach out to shake Dean’s hand but instead, he pulls me in for a hug. Like, not a bro-hug; an actual I’m-a-straight-man-who’s-comfortable-with-my-sexuality hug.
“I have been begging Klair to finally introduce us, man!” Dean’s excitement is endearing and weirdly, I can tell he’s being genuine. He lets me go, flashing the most adorable, crooked smile. He’s about my height and by the fit of his very stylish outfit—Klair must have gotten to him—it’s clear that this guy enjoys staying active. But as eager as Dean appears to be meeting me, he seems desperate to get Klair on the dance floor. The two of them disappear into the sea of bodies with her turning back to give me a wink. Instead of returning to my spot at the bar, I down my drink and decide to join them.
Klair and Dean, already settled into their rhythm by the time I make my way to them, excitedly welcome me to their spot on the dance floor. Dean hands me another shot he’s mysteriously acquired, flashing that grin one more time, and the spell Klair is clearly under makes sense.
“Cheers!” he shouts as we clink our glasses together. “To our stunning birthday girl.”
And suddenly, I’m no longer with them because Klair, who is the human embodiment of a heart-eye emoji—or the smirking devil one, let’s be honest—grabs Dean by the neck and kisses him with everything she’s got.
The burn of the shots catches up to me so I turn to make my way back to the bar to grab a water when I feel a pair of rather large hands grab my waist. It’s been a while since I’ve been out like this, but instead of recoiling from the stranger’s touch, I let the music guide my body, now in sync with my new dance partner.
He doesn’t say anything as he pulls my toned body against his and I’m fine with that. I don’t even turn around to see whose body I’m grinding into, but when I feel his hot breath on my neck and the grip on my hips tightens, I feel the deep pull of arousal course through my veins. I position us so I can still keep an eye on Klair, who at this point has been lifted off the ground and has herself wrapped around Dean.Ok girl…I see you!Clearly, the two of them are fine.
Not knowing who I’m dancing with only intensifies my confidence. At the end of the day, it is not about whoever this strange man is, but instead, it is about feeling powerful, in charge, and desirable. I close my eyes and let go of my loosened inhibitions, allowing the music to vibrate to my core. I push back against my stranger, feeling his arousal with every movement. I could get used to feeling this powerful and attuned to my body.
As the drum of the beat accentuates our every movement, I can’t help but wish that it was Graham I was pushing up against. That it was Graham’s perfect lips brushing against my neck. The thought of Graham alone sends me spiraling into the depths of lust and I never want to leave. But even in the simmer of this moment, nothing, not this or anything I’ve ever felt with another man, compares to how I feel around Graham. There is something so raw and magnetic whenever I’m around him, as if at any moment I’m going to physically combust. I can almost feel the intensity of his stare.
No, wait, I can literally feel those piercing hazel eyes on me. But he’s not supposed to be home until tomorrow?
I look up and Graham and I lock eyes, my own personal voyeur standing in the shadows, arms crossed and brow furrowed. There is no mistaking those broad shoulders and I swallow hard as I take in his bulging biceps for the first time thanks to his fitted, short-sleeved polo shirt. More prominent in the stage lighting, his immaculately trimmed stubble accentuates a bone structure that would make the ancient Greeks quake with jealousy.
Emboldened by the liquor and driven by an overwhelming desire for this man, I leave my interim dance partner without a single word and weave my way toward Graham through the growing, panting crowd.
Finally making it to the wall where Graham had just stood, calling to me like the most delicious siren there ever was, he is now nowhere to be found, seemingly disappearing into thin air from one second to the next. Heading toward the exit, more determined than ever to see the man who has been monopolizing so much space in my mind, I pass the long line of eager bodies ready to unwind, round the corner, and slam directly into the solid mass of a man leaning against the side of the club.
“I hadn’t realized I was in the presence of such a captivating dancer.” Graham’s voice is playful but I can sense a tinge of something bitter. Jealousy?
I hate how much I like that.
His large hands are placed squarely on my chest as I raise my gaze to meet his.
Please don’t look drunk. Please don’t look drunk.I repeat the words in my head, noticing the delay in my movements.Why does he have this effect on me?
“You should have come out and joined us, Mr. Austin!” I playfully poke his arm…his very solid and toned arm that I am now noticing has a tattoo peeping out from his tight sleeve. He looks incredibly good in a form-fitting maroon polo tucked into dark gray slacks, paired with a simple pair of loafers. Polished and effortless.Klair would approve.
Distracted by everything about this man, I don’t even notice Graham has shifted our position ever so slightly until my back is pressed securely against the wall. My breath catches at the realization that we are just inches apart at this point. Inches that could so easily be removed if I were to just step a little closer to him, but his firm grip is holding me steady.
Am I that drunk that he feels the need to support me right now?Oh my god…I’m sloppy!
“Clearly you were having fun…who am I to interrupt?” Graham is most definitely teasing me. Before I can respond, he adds, “Besides, I’ve never been one to share.”
I swallow hard at his admission.That means he wants me all to himself, right?Instantly, my heart rate begins to quicken and I can’t stop stealing glances at that tattoo that is just begging to make an appearance.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Baltimore until Monday?” I ask, not necessarily trying to deflect or change the subject, but definitely needing to give my poor heart a break. “Did you guys wrap up early?”
Graham visibly tenses at the mention of Baltimore and lowers his gaze to the ground as he takes a step back. “I was needed back in the office.” His tone is vastly different from before and disappointment washes over me as he creates more distance between the two of us.