Four shots in, Remi and Philip were dancing where they sat, and William was on the prowl. He’d marked several groups of potential prospects, giving commentary on his ideas about their willingness. Faking interest was much easier with alcohol, so I played along.
“Dibs on the one in red.” Remi nodded toward a group of ladies in painted-on dresses.
William pointed with his glass. “That’s fine. I’ll take the virginal white.”
Philip shook his head. “Nope. Spells danger. She’s not looking for a dirty fuck wearing that.”
William laughed. “No? Bet she’s calling me ‘Daddy’ before the end of the night.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Come on.” William made to get up.
“I’m not dancing,” Philip said but stood as well.
“Fuck dancing. I’m heading for the ladies.”
Philip exchanged a glance with Remi, who shrugged and followed.
Before he stepped too far, he turned. “Coming?” Remi asked me.
Dancing might be a more tolerable alternative to talking up some woman about her life choices. I sighed, hating my options, but I’d play the dutiful wingman. I’d mingle, talk, laugh, then slip away when they paired off.
Except that didn’t happen at all.
With a hand on the rail to remain steady as we descended the stairs, I glanced several times at the crowd of dancers. Maybe it was magic or the warm fuzz in my brain, but the crowds partedin a slow sway, and I took them in at the right time. There. Spotlighted as if it had been fate, Asher danced among the ramble of faceless strangers.
Within a blink, he was swallowed again, hidden, teasing my slowed mind. I stumbled the next step and grabbed the banister with both hands. Had it really been him?
I wasn’t exactly drunk, but with the buzz and the low lighting, I could’ve imagined him or mistaken someone else for him.
William, Remi, and Philip veered left, and without a word, I went right. Right to the edge of the dance floor.
The music was fast. The bass pounded in my chest as much as in my ears, controlling my heartbeat. Arms and torsos moved this way and that as I searched for the man who might have been Asher. Now, I wasn’t so sure I had seen him correctly.
There.
Like a ghost, the object of my keen interest moved in and out of focus. I wasn’t much of a dancer, but I was strongly contemplating taking a step into the crowd, doing the generic sway, so I could find this person and put myself out of misery. It couldn’t be him. What were the chances?
Would fate throw him at me every fucking weekend until I gave in?
But before I could take that first step, the sea moved in my favor. A clear path was cut from the edge of the throng straight to the man who caught my attention. He had the right height and build. He wore a pleated black kilt and a sheer shirt. Was it the skirt that made me think he was Asher?
Sweat-soaked hair flopped as he moved, the spiky length teasing me with hints of black-rimmed eyes above a lazy smile. His hands were raised, then smoothing down his neck to his chest. He contorted his body, rolling his hips in a dangerous mating call.
A whisper-thin chain of silver hung to his waist, sparkling like starlight against the black sky of his clothes. Should I go to him? Should I lift his chin and stare into those eyes to make sure they were the same pretty ones that haunted me?
Sober, I would rationalize that fate wouldn’t tempt me with something I couldn’t have. Fate wouldn’t dangle the forbidden fruit in front of me now. However, tipsy as I was, I certainly gave in to this being kismet.
Asher. Yes, it was him.
He slowly moved toward me. No, not moved. He danced. With every step, he taunted me with hips I wanted to hold, hands I wanted trailing down my chest, and a knowing grin I wanted to taste. I’d been so sure of myself all my life, even after the rattle to my resolve, but Asher was making quick work of those lies. Like a burning candle, his flame melted me like wax.
The frightened teenager in me, the one who realized he was gay and cried so many nights, wishing he were straight, peeked his head out of that unfettered door. Asher stood there, with a big smile, reaching for me with his open hand.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t give in to needs I shouldn’t have.Walk away.Never look back. Those were the right responses, but he held me with some invisible tether.
Was this moment inevitable? Had I waited all this time for the right man to push me here?
