GRAHAM HANDED his cash to the bartender, including a big tip. Hopefully the bartender would be a little quicker with service next time. It was a trick his father often used, and since it seemed to work for him, Graham had no objections to trying it too. He stepped back and the empty space he left filled immediately. He made his way carefully through the thickest layer of the crowd and looked toward the corner where Connor should have been waiting. But Connor wasn’t there.
“Lose your date?”
Graham closed his eyes and hissed through his teeth, “Friend. Not a date. What are you doing here?” He glared at Peter before resuming his search for Connor.
“I asked your dad where you were going. I was surprised you told him.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“Actually, I was surprised you told him about coming here. I figured you guys were going to a movie or a show. But when he said you were going to a club called Stripes, well, I had to see for myself. I wouldn’t have pegged this as your friend’s kind of scene.”
“I don’t lie to my dad. And as for Connor, I wanted to come and he’s a friend, so he agreed to go with, that’s all.”
“Friend. Right.” The sarcasm in the tone cut through the pounding bass and roar of shouted conversations.
Graham stopped his scan for Connor and wheeled around to face his ex. “Excuse me?”
“You’re deluding yourself. I saw you two together.”
“Maybe it’s not me who’s deluding himself,” Graham said starkly. “He’s not gay. So, friends.”
“Oh, he’s as queer as the rest of us.”
“What makes you say that? No, you know what, never mind. I’m not having this conversation with you. It’s too weird.”
“I don’t know why you find it so weird. We were friends once. As to how I know, well, I’ve got eyes. If he doesn’t play for our team, then he’s a damn good faker.” Peter pointed to the crowd of dancers. Graham followed Peter’s finger and finally located Connor.
This version of Connor was relaxed and open, one that Graham had never seen before. Connor was dancing, and dancing well, with the kid from the line outside. A broad smile split across Connor’s face as his body rocked with the rhythm of the music. From above, a rotating disco ball shot hundreds of beams of reflected light skipping across Connor’s bare arms and white tank. Sweat glinted off his skin and darkened his curls. He was beautiful—there was no other word for it. Graham’s stomach twisted in longing.
“You’ve got it bad.” Peter shook his head. “Well, if you give up on your closet case, give me a call. You know how to reach me.” Peter turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Graham sighed and snaked through the writhing horde of dancers. When he reached Connor, Liam was standing on his toes and saying something into Connor’s ear. Connor threw back his head and laughed. The pleasure at seeing Connor enjoy himself warred with the resentment that someone else was responsible for Connor’s happiness.
Connor’s eyes lit up when he caught sight of Graham. Of course, it was probably only the way the lights shone around him. The smile on Connor’s face, however, seemed to grow wider as Graham approached. “Hey,” he shouted over the music.
“Hey, back.” Graham handed Connor a bottle of water and grinned at the way Connor rolled his eyes in relief and mouthed “thank you.” He twisted the cap and swallowed half the contents of the bottle in one long gulp. His mouth dry, Graham followed suit.
The DJ switched to the next song, a techno dance mix that had Graham’s head nodding and foot tapping to the rhythm. Liam squealed and snatched Connor’s hand, spun toward him until Connor’s arm was completely wrapped around him, and whirled back out, somehow avoiding the other dancers. The farthest reach of the move had him nearly face-to-face with Graham. Liam took that second to tell Graham, “I rescued him.”
Liam repeated the spin-in and spin-out. “Had to protect him from the corrupters.”
Graham waited for the next spin to bring Liam near. “Corrupters?”
After one more spin-in and spin-out, Liam stopped, wavering on his feet. “Whoa. Dizzy.” He blinked at Graham and smiled. “Yeah, there were people eyeing him like a starving man eyes a steak. I swear there was drool and everything. And he was standing there, looking so sweet. If we hadn’t moved, there would’ve been a mob.”
Connor laughed. “Yeah, right. Nobody was watching me.”
Graham wasn’t so sure. Even now he could see a number of guys—and girls—watching him dance.
Liam winked. “He doesn’t see it at all, does he?”
“You’re so full of it. I thought we were here to dance.” Connor did a ridiculous disco-inspired move that had Graham choking on a laugh.
“You’re right.” Graham took a sip of water to clear his throat. He’d make sure Connor enjoyed himself, all the while keeping a close eye on Connor’s admirers. Stripes on underage night was safer than raves or basement parties, especially since there was no alcohol permitted, but it was better to be cautious.
It was fun, hanging out with Connor and Liam, dancing and talking, people watching. All that stuff that people did at clubs. Graham made a point of snapping a handful of pictures with his cell phone, catching a smiling Connor and a beaming Liam. Graham was impressed. After the first fish-out-of-water moment at the beginning of the night, Connor hadn’t freaked out or looked uncomfortable. Not even when guys came up to dance—or grind, depending—with him. If someone was particularly insistent, Connor would move away and dance closer with Liam. Most guys got the hint.
It was all Graham could do to keep from snarling at each and every person who approached Connor.
After an hour or so, Graham made his way back from the bathroom, with a brief stop at the bar, approaching Connor and Liam from behind. He heard Liam asking Connor, “Why aren’t you dancing with Graham?”
“We’re not really together. Just friends.”
“So when he said you were taken, he wasn’t talking about himself?”
“Nope, like you, he was protecting me from the corrupters.”
Liam cocked his head to one side. “Still doesn’t explain why you aren’t dancing with him.” Graham wished he could see Connor’s face.
Connor shrugged. “Our town isn’t exactly the best place to meet gay people. He deserves a chance to meet someone special. He can’t do that if I’m attached to his hip all night.”
Liam met Graham’s eyes over Connor’s shoulder. He at least knew Graham was there. “I don’t think he’s looking for someone right now.”
Connor shrugged. “I don’t want to get in the way, that’s all.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
Uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed, Graham slapped Connor on the back. “Here’s your water.”
“I was supposed to get the next round,” Connor complained, though he opened the bottle and drank deeply.
“I was there. It was easier.” Graham passed a bottle to Liam as well.
“Hey, thanks. I’m dying of thirst.”
When they’d all drained their water, Liam took the empty bottles to a recycling bin and then continued on the way to the restroom. Connor, who’d apparently morphed into a dancing fiend, continued to move with the music. His skin gleamed with sweat and his hair had given up any pretense of style. It made Graham want to wrap the almost-curls around his fingers. Connor stopped dancing to catch his breath as the song ended.
“Thanks for this,” he said, leaning close. “Seriously, I’m having a great time. This whole experience, this whole day, has been amazing.”
“I’m glad.”
“Ooh, I love this song.” Liam darted back, grabbing Connor’s arm as the first strains of the new track burst through the speakers. It was the equivalent of a slow song by club standards. Instead of the frenetic energy of most of the songs they’d heard during the night, this one had a low, pulsing beat interspersed with a soaring melody, blended into a sexy music mix, perfect for getting up close and personal with a partner. Liam spun around and backed into Connor. He manipulated Connor’s arms so that Connor was gripping Liam’s waist above the silver shorts and below the abbreviated hem of the mesh shirt. Liam’s own arms reached up over his head to grip behind Connor’s neck.
Graham looked for an excuse to leave the dance floor, but deserting Connor seemed wrong. Not that Connor would notice. Not with the way Liam draped over him. He wouldn’t be able to stand there watching Connor and Liam moving together like that for long. Not without doing something stupid like ripping Connor free of the smaller guy. He’d almost convinced himself to walk away when strong arms reached around him, settling on his own leather-clad hips. He whirled around, arms coming up protectively. He relaxed when Peter winked at him.
“You look like you need some help.”
Deciding that dancing with Peter was better than walking away in a jealous tantrum, Graham turned back and settled into him. They were the same height, so instead of wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck like Liam had with Connor, Graham covered Peter’s hands where they held him. The club’s fog machines kicked in, sending pale smoke billowing around the dance floor.
Graham looked up from the artificial white clouds to see Connor’s hazel eyes blazing into him. There was such intensity, such need in them that Graham couldn’t look away. The people around them faded until it was only the four of them moving to the music, bodies dipping and rocking in tandem.
One of Peter’s hands started to crawl along Graham’s waist, crossing his stomach until he nearly embraced Graham. He didn’t care about Peter’s touch, but he was convinced that he could feel the prickling trail of Connor’s eyes as he watched the path of Peter’s fingers.
“It’s working.” Peter leaned in, speaking low enough that no one else could hear him.
Graham tilted his head to the side, without moving his eyes from Connor. “What do you mean?”
“You know the phrase ‘if looks could kill’?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, if your boyfriend loses it, I expect you to keep him from hitting me.”
Peter pulled Graham tighter against him and guided Graham’s hands back until his palms rested on the outer thighs of Peter’s designer jeans. A storm was brewing across Connor’s face with Peter’s every murmured comment and deliberate movement.
“Ten… nine… eight….” Peter accentuated each count with a roving hand. A glide across Graham’s ribs. A caress up his side.
“What are you doing?” Graham demanded.
“Counting down. By the time I reach one—” Peter didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
In a split second, Connor pulled himself from Liam’s hold and surged across the small space between them. He wrenched Graham forward, out of Peter’s arms, and slammed his mouth onto Graham’s.
“Yes!” Graham dimly heard Liam whooping behind Connor. All of his attention was on Connor and the fact that Connor was kissing him. Connor was kissing him! There, in the middle of two hundred people and surrounded by flashing lights and throbbing music, Connor—who had a girlfriend, who said he was straight, who… was kissing him.
Connor jerked back, his breathing ragged. “Oh my God!” he said between pants, face pale.
Graham didn’t even think. He circled Connor’s neck and dragged him close for another kiss.
“It’s about time,” Liam said, breaking into the moment. “The sexual tension in here was out of control.”
Connor jumped, then Liam spun out of reach with Connor’s phone. “What the—” Connor began, but Liam shushed him with a wave of a hand. Liam hit a few buttons and returned the phone to Connor. “I’ve got to go now, but it’s been a blast. Call me, ’kay?” He blew kisses to Graham and Connor and then escaped through the crowd.