Delia pretended to vomit. “And yet again, the straight white guy exploits a minority’s sacred ground for his own personal gain.”
“I’m not exploiting anything. I’m not stopping anyone from having fun. In fact, I’m clearing the way for you.” Gideon pointed at Mac, who turned red from the attention. “I’m taking one for the team. Or two if I wind up having a really good night.”
“I’m glad you think so highly of us deadwood,” Delia deadpanned.
“Shall we go?” Seth said, pointing to the door.
“We shall,” Delia said with an eye roll reserved for Gideon.
Mac locked up behind them. They rumbled down the stairs to the street. Gideon waited for Mac.
“How will I know if a gay guy is hitting on me?” He asked.
“If he shoves his hand down your pants, there’s a pretty good chance he’s hitting on you.”
Φ
Mac didn’t want to shut his eyes when he got inside Cherry Stem. He wanted to absorb it all. Every strobe light. Every thumping beat. Every poster on the wall. He felt so grateful to be here. It made him think about where he came from in West Virginia, where he had to keep his desires a secret. Or at least he tried to.
Now he was in a building filled with probably hundreds of them. Hundreds of available guys who he could openly be into. He wouldn’t have to think about the one straight guy in the room. When they got into the club, Delia found her sorority sister Lorna, a girl whose red hair was a good primer on her vivacious personality. She was flanked by other sorority sisters and gay friends and made the introductions. Mac couldn’t keep track of all the names, but he’d met Henry and Nolan plenty of times before. Mac introduced them to Gideon, who told all of them he was straight right off the bat.
Gideon suggested they all dance together, guys and girls, in a widening circle. Gideon needed to dance in a group in order to show he was straight. Two guys dancing together meant they were gay. Group meant friends. These were the byzantine laws for straight guys at dance clubs.
For a straight guy, Gideon knew how to dance. Mac spotted some other obviously straight guys at the periphery of the dance floor. None of them made an effort.
Henry and Nolan grinded against each other and gave each other pecks on the lips. To the untrained eye, they looked like they had just met tonight, not like a serious couple.
“PDA much?” Gideon snarked.
Nolan pulled away from Henry. “You’re on our turf now. Get used to it.” And he went back to running his hands across his boyfriend’s body.
Gideon shot Mac a look, nodding his head at the lovebirds, as if to say “Isn’t this a bit much?”
“Like Nolan said, it’s our turf,” Mac responded proudly.
The next song came on, and Gideon went back to dancing. Mac kept his eyes on the room, on the other guys, not on the one next to him wiggling his very cute butt.
Straight. Roommate. Cold shower.
He didn’t dance like straight guys Mac had seen. Seth was pretty much stepping left then right, no rhythm. Gideon didn’t seem to be scoping out the room for girls. Maybe that was part of his strategy. Mac soaked in all the attractive,availableguys around him.
“You’re staring,” Gideon said.
“What?”
“You’re not going to get anyone if you’re gawking at them.” Gideon danced closer to Mac so he didn’t have to shout. “If you want to check someone out, glance at them for a few seconds, then look away. Do that a few times and see if they start checking you out. And close your mouth when you dance! It’s the same as chewing food.”
Mac clamped his lips shut and properly checked out a few guys in his vicinity, counting in his head for a few seconds before looking away.
“Are you counting the seconds in your head?” Gideon asked.
“How did you know?”
“Because you are concentrating awfully hard for dancing to a remixed Adele song. And your mouth is hanging open like a Venus fly trap.”
Mac hung his head. Guilty. Single. Lost cause.
Gideon massaged his shoulder, which Mac enjoyed a bit too much. “Just enjoy yourself. Don’t think so hard. People want to hang out with people who are having fun.”
