Thank God she lost interest in me and turned back to the crowd. “And because I’m going to miss you all so much, I have one more very special number for you all…”
If I Could Turn Back Time came on, and I tapped a toe to the beat as I waited to be served. It was busier than I’d expected here tonight, maybe because people were here for the show.
When I finally got my beer, I retreated to a corner to watch the rest of the action until the song finished, the queen vanished backstage, and the lighting changed. Almost right away, some people got up and left, so I pounced on my chance to get a table for two.
I knew Rusty wouldn’t let me enjoy a seat for long, but at least I could rest my poor feet for what was yet to come.
As I did, I finally looked around. Unnoticed here in the corner, I could watch the ebb and flow of some people leaving, and others arriving and heading for drinks and the dance floor.
Men were here in twos and threes and bigger groups. They chatted and laughed, and even sat on each other’s laps or kissed each other without any self-consciousness.
It wasn’t just young, pretty college-aged boys here, either. The more I looked, the more guys my age I saw. One guy close by looked boring and reserved in a white collared shirt. I was suddenly glad I’d chosen something slightly more exciting—not much, but it was better than looking like I’d come straight from the office.
I didn’t have the confidence to strike up a conversation with anyone, though. I just nursed a beer and smiled as I watched everyone else having fun. Like they were born to be here.
That could have been me.
It wasn’t that I regretted my time with Chrissy and raising Beth. But the knowledge was heavy in my heart that I could be one of them. Well, I guess I was. But I still didn’t feel like it.
Caught up in people-watching, I nearly leaped out of my chair when Rusty swung into the other seat with a cheerful grin.
“Whoa!” I exclaimed.
“Hello there! Sorry,” Rusty giggled and put his hand on my arm. His touch lingered and he stroked lightly with his thumb before pulling away. “I didn’t realize you were on another planet. Whatcha thinking?”
He already had a drink in hand. Jesus, how had I missed him? Rusty stood out from any crowd with his vibrant red hair. He wore gorgeous skinny jeans that clung to his frame. Tucked into them was a white T-shirt so tight it looked spray-painted.
“I was waiting for you to rescue me,” I admitted, laughing as I stood up to greet him with a hug like I’d seen so many other guys do here.
Rusty was warm and comforting, his smell familiar to me now. Freshly showered, his hair still a little damp. More importantly, when his chest was pressed against mine, my head fit perfectly against his, and his arms slid around my back.
I never wanted him to let go.
“Thanks for showing up,” I murmured when I finally pulled away.
“Of course.” Rusty smiled at me and fidgeted with his drink glass. “I wasn’t going to stand you up, babe. Have you been waiting long?”
“Um…” I’d lost track of time when I disappeared into my thoughts. “Long enough that I got roasted or complimented by a drag queen when I got here. I’m not sure which.”
“It’s always a roast, honey.” Rusty giggled. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, well. Apparently I came too late for the show, but that makes me really gay.” I pretended to take down a notepad. “So now I know what makes people think I’m straight. Always being early.”
“You?” Rusty said in disbelief.
I tilted my head. “Me? Yeah. I was early to class, too.”
Rusty scoffed. “No, not that. You’re not straight, babe. Anyone can tell. Not with those cute geeky little glasses and that sexy little figure.”
I blushed and choked down some beer so I didn’t have to respond. But inside, I was squealing like a twelve-year-old. It was hard to breathe, and the very tips of my fingers pulsed with excitement. My stomach was turning inside-out with joy.
He’d been looking at my figure? Better yet, he thought it was sexy? Knowing that made me stand ten feet tall in my own mind.
Rusty giggled again. “You’ve just been sitting here? You must be all rested up and ready…”
I knew what he was going to say next, so I chimed in with him, “To dance.” I pretended to shake out my legs as I stood. “I might collapse. I haven’t moved so much in years.”
Rusty laughed. “How do you think I feel after classes all weekend?”
“But you’re used to it. You have muscles like steel.”
“I’m glad you noticed them.” Rusty grinned playfully at me and held one hand out to me. “I’ll go easy.”
I took his hand and slid my fingers between his. My whole palm burned with a pleasant tingle that crept up my arm and into my shoulders. I stood a little straighter with Rusty towing me along.
Too late to turn back—someone scooped up our table the moment we left.
Little crowds were starting to form, especially around the bar and the tables. The dance floor wasn’t totally empty, but only five or six people were on the small stage right now.
Rusty kept moving until we reached the middle of the dance floor, and I tried not to melt inward on myself. “Oh, God,” I murmured.
I didn’t have to explain. Rusty just laughed gently at me. “The most crowded spot is the edge, baby,” Rusty pointed out, keeping one hand laced with mine while he drank from the glass in his other hand. “Nobody wants to be the one in the middle. But they all wish they could be.”
God, he was so right. How many evenings had I spent wishing I had the confidence to get up there—but talking myself out of it? How many confident men had I admired from the crowd, never bold enough to come up here and join them? I felt kind of silly now.
“Yeah. I wish I had a fraction of your confidence,” I admitted with a low chuckle. I sipped my beer and swayed with Rusty, appreciating the slow pace he was setting. “I don’t want to be the sad single one at the wedding this weekend.”
“Aww,” Rusty murmured and rested his cheek on my shoulder. He squeezed my hand and let go, then wrapped his arm around my waist. “That’s tough. But you won’t be the only one, I’m sure.”
“It’s not just about being single,” I told him. Apparently one beer and the truth was spilling out. “I want to be more confident, too. I want to make Beth proud. If I show up there being all awkward and… myself… No.” I shook my head, cringing already. “I want to be the cool dad.”
I wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. And the last thing I wanted was to shrink under the unavoidable looks and snickers from that bunch of homophobic little dicks they called groomsmen.
I didn’t want to be the miserable single one next to my happy ex-wife and her perfect new husband. I didn’t begrudge her happiness for a moment, but I knew others would compare us. There’s the stepfather… so where’s the stepmother? Didn’t you hear? He’s gay. Well, no wonder. The scandalized whispers were easy to imagine. I’d been to too many weddings where all the ladies pity-danced with me.
But most of all, I didn’t want Beth to notice that anything was wrong. I wanted her day to be perfect. And right now, if that asshole I was about to call my son-in-law made one more veiled comment just out of earshot from her, I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t throw down over it.