Page 93 of Everything's Better With You
The kids chattered excitedly as they headed out to the bus.
“I’m glad you made it,” Joe said as he hugged Marti. “I’m glad Terrell could be here. He doing okay?”
“Prognosis is good. You guys be safe. I’ll see you Monday,” she said.
Leslie walked behind him, and when Joe snuck a glance, he saw that Leslie was arguing with Sandy. Leslie made eye contact and Joe’s stomach crashed to the ground like a fallen flyer missed by spotters.
Shit.
Joe had a lot to explain to Leslie. He’d been asked to fly out two more times forDance Machinelive shows, theDance Machineproducers wanted an answer on the national tour, and there was the audition forKinky Boots. If Joe hadn’t taken the position at Greenvale, he could have done them all, no question. Okay, maybe not both the Broadway show and the travelingDance Machinetour… Arthur was great at making things work, and he would since Joe was committed here through May. But Joe had wanted to talk to Barry about next year before he made any decisions and there hadn’t been time.
The last of the kids hopped on the bus and Joe turned to see Leslie say one more heated statement to Sandy before he walked over, his forehead creased, his heavy brows low.
Joe waved to Sandy, who nodded, gave a half-hearted wave, and then he headed toward his Jeep.
“Ready for your thrilling and luxurious bus ride home?” he asked Leslie. All he wanted to do was curl up in a seat together, no longer required to keep his hands to himself. He was so grateful Leslie had been by his side when his team won. He couldn’t wait until they could celebrate together.
Leslie paused a few steps from Joe. “What was all that?”
Joe blinked. No, they couldn't do this now. Not when they had a two-hour drive ahead of them.
“All what? I was kind of running on adrenaline.”
“Next year, Joe. What was that?”
Joe stood a little taller. “The truth, as much as I can say right now. I’m a temporary employee, Leslie. I’m not on the tenure track or anything. I don’t even know if I’ll be offered a contract again—”
“You’re still not sure about this. About us.”
“Leslie! How could you think that? I love you.” And he did, with all his heart, and he was determined to make it all work: Leslie, the shows, everything…somehow. But he knew Leslie had a different future in mind.
Leslie nodded and gave Joe a half smile as he climbed onto the bus.
Joe climbed on behind him and had hoped Leslie would sit next to him, but he sat on the aisle like he had the last time with his body turned away, facing the window.
His body language read, “leave me alone.”
Joe sat in the seats where he’d been before and blew out a breath. The driver asked if they were all set and Joe told him they were ready to go. The bus pulled away from the convention center as rain started to pelt the windows. It had been a clear morning, but the clouds had moved in during the day and the chill had Joe pulling his coach’s jacket tighter around him.
Leslie closed his eyes and Joe noticed him squeezing the spot between his thumb and index finger.
“You okay, babe? You need me to—”
“I’m fine. I’m just going to rest my eyes.”
There was no invitation, no welcoming smile.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Leslie nodded and closed his eyes, resting his head against the seat back.
The bus ride was the longest two hours of Joe’s life.
He debated with himself what he should say, how he could fix this. But then what was he supposed to do?
You committed to Leslie, that meant to him that you were going to be here. Even if you weren’t hired back by the college for some reason, he wants you with him. You could still dance, you could commute back and forth to LA. But if the college doesn’t hire you back, what happens when the dancing dries up? Where will you work? What will you do? You can’t exactly let Leslie take care of you financially. That’s not how it is between you, and you certainly haven’t put away enough of a nest egg to retire at thirty-six. At least if you lived back in Hollywood there are studios, choreography jobs…
But you want Leslie. You belong with Leslie. Somehow, you’ve gotta make this work.
