Page 78 of Fate in Motion
Nate leans over and says, “How are you, babe?”
“Fucking fantastic. I love this crew. I want everyone to become best friends. Please and thank you.”
“I’m in need of some house music, though,” I say. “It’s already almost 9. Where’s the DJ?”
Josh and Marcus hear me and spring into action. “Did someone say DJ? We got it!”
They rush over to the booth. I love that they came out tonight, they are straight as hell, but totally unbothered being around a bunch of rowdy gays. They are clearly comfortable in their own skin. And for once, I finally get it.
A few seconds later, the bass drops. The music is intense: deep house, no vocals, a heavy beat, and loud; my favorite type of drunk music.
Nate gives me a what the fuck kinda music is this? Look.
I wink, grab his hand, and pull him to the dance floor, and everyone follows. Nate spins me around so I’m in front of him and starts grinding against me. I press back into his crotch, he’s wearing tight jeans, and still, I can feel him getting excited. Probably too excited.
I spin him around, kiss him on the lips, then join the others dancing like we’re the only ones in the bar. I catch a few flashes, clearly from people taking photos. These people are very conspicuous, with their flashes still on. What geniuses.
Becky screams over the music, “It’s getting packed in here!”
Marcus shouts back, “I know! I thought gays didn’t start the party until midnight!”
Paul laughs. “Hun, not all gays. Some of us start early and binge ‘til dawn.”
Evan and Christina glance at us, begging with their mouths, “Can we leave by midnight?”
Nate and I smile and mouth back, “Yes.”
I love a good party, but staying out past midnight sounds horrible. I’m already wasted, and I have practice tomorrow.
The next few hours are a blur. We drink more, dance harder, and switch off grinding and jumping with our friends. It’s like sex and cardio rolled into one.
By 11:15, the place is officially packed, and we’re all drenched. I look at Nate and say, “Step outside with me, I need air.”
He grabs my hand and leads me out like he can read my mind.
Outside, I exhale hard. “This is amazing, but I’m literally dripping everywhere. And I mean everywhere! That DJ’s insane though.”
Nate laughs. “I’d prefer something quieter. Maybe some rock music or a low-key bar. But…yeah, this is pretty fun. I can’t lie.”
“I wish we could go out with this group all the time,” I say.
“Well, most of them live in New York. We can,” Nate says.
“True. But I’m lazy as fuck.” I say, “How ‘bout this. Once a month, we rage our faces off and binge drink with this group of friends?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Nate says, “But only once, any more than that and I will deteriorate.”
Nate gets quiet, then says, “I saw at least five or ten people come up to you throughout the night. All I heard them say was,‘Are you Carter Elliott from the Hawks? Is this your boyfriend? Are you gay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I guess making out on a dance floor with a guy kind of answers that question for them.” We both burst out laughing.
“I don’t care, though,” I say. “This is the best I’ve felt in my entire life, and I don’t think it'sonlybecause of the intoxication.”
I reach for the door. “Come on, I’ve got thirty, maybe forty-five minutes left in me. Then we find Christina and Evan, and then make an Irish exit.”
Nate smirks. “Then we play at home. Quietly.”
I shoot him a side-eye and smirk back. “Obviously.”
