Page 20 of On Dancer
I skated my hand higher, and his answering moan made the last of my blood rush south. I’d never been this hard, this on edge.
“Are you the only renter in the building?” Alexander asked as his head fell back against the wall next to the stairs. The light from the parking lot cast eerie shadows across his face.
“Huh?” I barely heard him through my tipsy haze, drunk on his kisses and the thrill of touching him.
“I might be used to an audience, but even I would rather not scandalize your neighbors by fucking in the stairwell.”
“Oh.” My eyes went so wide my eyebrows pinched from the stretch. “I’m the only one who lives here full-time.”
“Good.” With that, Alexander returned to kissing me, hands far bolder now as he pushed my vest upward. He made a frustrated noise as he encountered the bulk of my coat and other shirts. “Entirely too much clothing.”
“I agree.” I nodded enthusiastically as a shiver raced through me. We were in a drafty, unheated stairwell in winter. While the chance of interruption was low, this remained an unhinged idea. The smarter thing would be to pull Alexander up the three flights of stairs to my somewhat-warmer apartment, but the risk of him saying no had me shrugging out of my coat right there. I let it fall onto the bags scattered at our feet.
“Maybe we should simply go for the clothing that matters. Efficiency.” Alexander winked a fraction of a second before he palmed the front of my pants for emphasis.
“Ungh.” I made a strangled sound as I struggled not to climax on the spot. I ran imaginary budget spreadsheets in my head, but numbers were a poor defense against Alexander’s searing touch. A better distraction was reaching for his narrow leather belt. A high-pitched, giddy laugh wiggled past my efforts at restraint. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”
“A stairwell is a bit of novelty,” Alexander agreed idly.
“I meant you and me, this, here…” I trailed off as I was long past the point of making sense, but something in my babble orperhaps my inexpert pawing at him made Alexander narrow his eyes.
“Oh Lord.” His voice approached finding a spider in his soup levels of horror. “Tell me you’ve done this before.”
“Not in a stairwell.” I tried to mimic the airy tone he often used, but his expression stayed skeptical.
“You’re a virgin.” He didn’t even give me the dignity of forming his guess as a question. Groaning, he flopped back against the wall behind him. “I should have guessed.”
“Really? Why?” I went from turned on beyond all belief to pissed off in a single irritated heartbeat. “And don’t say my age. I’m twenty-four. The vast majority of adults aren’t virgins at my age.” I glared at him, hands clenching. “Or is it that I’m too nerdy? The stereotypical short, skinny geek who’s destined to be single forever?”
Moments earlier, I’d felt so seen by him. Wanted. Desired. All that fled, replaced by uncertainty and no small amount of anger.
“Put the claws away. I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Alexander said mildly. “More that there’s this innocent vibe around you. You don’t have all the layers of pretense most do.”
Despite his chiding, disappointment and insult still warred in my gut, and I made an indignant noise.Innocent.He might as well say I was a terrible kisser. He might have meant the comment as reassuring, but it landed more like a wet towel on top of the smoldering heap of my former crush.
“But also, I mainly meant my own terrible luck.” Alexander gave a self-effacing laugh that did nothing to lessen my irritation. “My libido finally wakes up from the deep freeze it’s been in the last year and a half or more, and you’re avirgin.”
“So you keep saying. It’s hardly a death sentence.” I gave him a pointed look. Why couldn’t we simply get back to the kissing? The kissing had been so good. Magical. I wanted more of that,not this pointless argument. “Virginity is more like a temporary condition. One I’d be happy to be done with.”
“And you will be, I’m sure.” His voice was light before turning serious again. “But not with me.”
“Why not?” I demanded. He’d certainly seemed into the kissing prior to my ill-timed babble. And he’d been the one to kiss me. Maybe this could still be salvaged.
“You deserve something better than a quick grope in a dark stairwell, Rudy.” Alexander had returned to his “I am so ancient” tone that rankled more than a dozen out-of-tune pianos. He wasn’t that much older, and I liked him far better when he wasn’t attempting to lecture. “Let it be special.”
“Ha.” I snorted. “The leagues of teens who have lost their virginity in backseats of cars and other awkward locales beg to differ.”
“Don’t settle for something meaningless.” Alexander shook his head sadly, gaze faraway, and my anger softened into something more sympathetic.
“Did you?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t want to talk about that.” The set of his jaw said he wasn’t open to further questioning. “Just take my advice, Rudy. Wait for someone worthy of you.”
“But you could?—”
“Goodnight, Rudy.” He cut me off with a raised hand as he sidestepped away from me, already reaching for the door. “And I’m sorry.”
Not as sorry as I was. My groan followed him out the door into the cold night air, which rushed into the stairwell. If he hadn’t guessed my most embarrassing secret, we could still be kissing. Or more. And despite what he thought, it would be special, and not simply because he was Alexander Dasher. He was my friend, or so I’d thought.
