Page 51 of Ice Dance

Not so soon. Not when we had something really good going on.

He wasn’t on the street.

The other way—he’d gone the other way.

I slowed to a jog, then stopped and stood alone in the street, under a streetlight, holding both our tops. “Fuck!” I started back, walking this time.

He was gone. How did I fix this?

I could text him.

I pulled my phone from my pocket.

What was I going to say?

“Sorry for groping you on the dance floor? You’d seemed into it. Oops. My bad.”

I couldn’t damn well text him. All of it sounded trivial and stupid.

“Ugh!” Why had I done that? Why couldn’t I keep my hands to myself?

I returned to the bar, but couldn’t face the heat inside, so I sank to the sidewalk and rested back against the wall in the slim hope he’d return for his top. That was where Saga found me.

He flopped onto the ground beside me. “You’re such a bisexual disaster, mon beau.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, don’t.” I stared at the dark windows of the empty building across the street.

“Cam, he’s a grown man. He could have stopped that at any point. The fact he didn’t says a lot.”

I lolled my head his way and blinked. “You know you don’t get spicy with your dance partner. It’s the number one rule of Dance Club.”

“Well, you don’t.” He snorted. “I do it all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s you.”

“A slut, just say it.”

I laughed, and dropped my head, to stare through the gap between my legs. Maybe the street would open up and swallow me.

“I’m telling you, I was watching, really watching . . . and that shit went both ways.” He pulled a vape from his pocket and took a few puffs.

“That’s just how we dance, Saga.”

He laughed now. “No, that’s how you fuck.”

“He’s not . . . He doesn’t . . . He’s not into that.” Oh my god, how was I going to face him tomorrow?

“A man who dances like that wants to be loved, I’m telling you.”

“He’s a professional. Unlike us.”

Saga sighed for me. “Beat yourself up some more, but I’m going back inside. You’ll know tomorrow. He’ll either show up at the rink, or he won’t.”

I swallowed and groaned. I wasn’t nearly drunk enough to deal with this, and I wasn’t going to get drunk either. Because tomorrow was ice day. The first day we were back on the ice since agreeing to work together, for real this time.

If I hadn’t screwed it up, like I did everything.

Saga stood and squeezed my shoulder. “Trust me, he’ll be there tomorrow. And if he is, then I reckon you need to trust that this gay knows what he’s talking about and believe that man is hot for you.”