Dance With Me (40 page)

There was no mistaking the disappointment in his tone.

Ed didn't seem to hear it, though. “Oh, nothing like him. Jesus, no. But I like the ballroom stuff a lot. I'd do the other, but I don't think I have the grace for it. Not like Laur.”

Now they had Oliver's attention. “That would be something to see, the two of you performing. I didn't realize you'd progressed that far. I assumed it was just"—he glanced at Laurie with a quick wink—"flirting.”

Ed grinned. “Well, maybe that too. But I think we do okay. I want him to enter a contest with me, but that's going to take some doing. Right now I just want to get us somewhere we can show off.”

“Ed,” Laurie hissed. He felt dizzy. He'd come ready to battle his mother, but so far she was the least of his worries. He wanted to go out to the car and lie down until all this went away.

“What about here? Now?” Christopher suggested. “I'd love to see you dance.”

“Certainly not!” Caroline said in the same moment Laurie said, “No.”

“Not until we've had dessert, at the very least,” Oliver said, breezing in. “Albert, Caroline tells me you shifted your investments around again. Care to give a few tips?”

Laurie's father, mellowed back into business bland, began to explain the complexities of his portfolio, and the rest of the table went back to eating. Except Laurie couldn't. He was so angry, and so...hurt. And he didn't know why. And it was making him crazy.

He felt Ed's hand on his thigh, then felt his breath on his ear.

“You're mad. Did I do something?”

Laurie shook his head. “I'm fine,” he said unconvincingly. Ed said nothing, but he kept his hand on Laurie's leg and stroked him reassuringly through the rest of the meal.

After, however, Oliver brought up a dance performance again, and to Laurie's surprise, this time it was Ed who objected.

“Nah, let's save it for later,” he said. “Not really room in here anyway.”

“But there's a studio out back, I thought!” Christopher teased. “Come on. You have us all curious now.”

“Can't.” Ed rubbed at his neck and gave an apologetic shrug.

Laurie immediately felt horrible for not noticing. “I'll get your pills. We left them in the car, right?”

Ed stayed him with a hand. “It's okay.”

Laurie looked up at him, ready to argue, because if the pain was bad enough that Ed couldn't dance, it had to be very bad. And then he got a closer look at him and realized that no. Ed was just lying.

For him.

And for whatever reason, that realization tipped Laurie back over the edge. “We'll do it,” he said. When Ed started to protest, he squeezed his arm. “Ed's right. People should see how good we are.”

He was still nervous, though, and he held Ed's hand all the way out to the studio. He wasn't sure why, exactly, he was doing this. He thought it might be to show up his father, to make him watch his big burly football player dance. He thought he might be thumbing his nose at his mother as well. He was too scared to be bragging, but he felt some of that too, all the same.

When the others settled along the far wall and he and Ed went out onto the floor together, however, he realized that mostly he was simply out of sorts and wanted, right now, to dance with his partner.

He'd cued up a tango, and after a whispered suggestion to Ed, he simply let go and followed. He heard their audience's gasps—he'd urged a very showy start—but after that, all he heard was the music. All he felt was the beating of his heart and the heat of Ed's body, the power behind his embrace.

All he knew was the dance.

Only four people watched, but Laurie was glad. When he'd gone down in flames in Toronto, it had been such a mighty, incredible fall, but somehow he knew even a slight tumble now would bruise him to the bone. He had no ego left to cage him, no grit or anger at the world, no arrogance to blind him, not anymore. Even this, dancing for his parents, for Oliver and for Christopher, felt too much, too loud, too dangerous, and the fear pushed on him with every step.

But with every step Ed was there to catch him. Ed led him, Ed bore him up, and no matter how quick the turn or steep the slide, Ed always brought him home.

When the song finished, for a second there was only silence, and Laurie clung to Ed, who clung right back. Then Oliver started to clap, and then Christopher, and then they all were. “Amazing,” Oliver said, and Laurie dared to look at them. They were all wide-eyed. They were all moved. Even his mother.

He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not.

The remainder of the evening was subdued. They made small talk through drinks, and Laurie's mother even kissed his cheek as he left with Ed to go home, but not much of their tension had gone despite Oliver's attempt to heal them. He wasn't angry with
her
anymore, exactly, but he was still angry or at least agitated. If anything, he was worse, and to add insult to injury, he didn't know why.

Neither he nor Ed said much as they drove home, but halfway across town Ed finally sighed and said, “I'm sorry.”

Laurie glanced at him, surprised. “For what?”

Ed shrugged. “I don't know. But I can tell I did something.”

“You didn't do anything.” Laurie stared out the window. “I shouldn't have let Oliver trick me into going. It's him I'm angry at. I think.”

Ed paused for a moment. “I guess I don't get why you're so mad. I mean, yeah, your mom is kind of intense. But she loves you. I can tell.”

“My father certainly loved you,” Laurie shot out before he could help himself. He winced and tried to backtrack. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Is
that
what's wrong?” Ed pressed. “You're mad because your dad liked me? But I don't get it. That's not good?”

“He doesn't like
me
. He never has more than two seconds for me, is embarrassed of me, but he hears you play football, and it doesn't even matter that you're gay. You're a god. And as usual, I'm nothing. Just my family's disappointment.” Laurie tipped his head back and shut his eyes. “Forget it. I'm being ridiculous. I'm just tired and need to go to bed.”

But Ed was pulling off the road onto the shoulder. He stopped the car, put the hazards on, and turned to Laurie.

Laurie looked around at the cars whizzing by them. “Ed, we can't stop here.”

“Look at me, Laurie.”

There was a strange tone to his voice, and Laurie was almost nervous to turn to Ed. When he hesitated, Ed reached out and gently held his chin. The intensity of Ed's gaze made Laurie go still.

Ed stroked the sides of Laurie's face as he spoke, never letting his eyes move away. “You aren't a disappointment, Laurie. Not to me.”

Emotion rose up without warning, and Laurie tried to turn away. “It's okay,” he whispered, but his voice broke.

Ed drew him back. “No,” he said firmly. “Listen to me. You aren't a disappointment. Not to me, and not to Oliver. I can't speak for your parents.” He sighed. “I'm sorry about your dad. I wish I had figured that out. I'm sorry. But Laurie—shit, baby.” He laughed, a rueful sound. “Laur, God, you have no idea. Here I've been all bent out of shape, feeling like a big heel because you're always having to take care of me.”

That made Laurie look up. “But I like taking care of you.”

Ed kissed his forehead. “I know, baby. I know.” He let his lips rest a moment longer, then pulled back reluctantly. “You're right. I can't sit here too long.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, but it was changed somehow. Laurie still felt agitated, but he felt a little less hollow.

He felt a little more centered as he opened the door to the loft and saw not just Ed's things but his own. My home, he thought, still trying out the idea. He wasn't set up yet, so it was mostly his mess, but it was real now. He was living here. With Ed.

He sat beside Ed on his own couch as they watched Ed's television, drinking tea from one of his own mugs. He relaxed as Ed's hand stroked his side, but he didn't pay any attention to the program, only thought back to dancing with Ed at his parents’ house.

You aren't a disappointment to me.

When he lay down beside Ed that night, as he curled up beside Ed beneath the blanket—his own blankets, his good, clean sheets—he shut his eyes and let his forehead rest against Ed's chest.

I don't ever want to disappoint you, he thought, quiet desperation closing his throat. I want to stay here, like this. Always. I don't want to just take care of you. I want you to take care of me too.

It was less of a plea and more of a revelation: small, quiet, and terrible. He drew a deep breath and let it out on a shudder, sliding his arms around Ed's big, strong body.

Ed embraced him back and kissed his hair. “You okay, baby?”

Laurie nodded and hugged him back. So long as I'm with you, he added silently. I'm okay, so long as I'm with you.

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Chapter Eighteen

seguir: to follow

The weekend before the benefit at the center, Oliver had Ed and Laurie over for dinner.

Everything for the program was arranged, and as Oliver had urged, everything would be held at the center. Dinner, catered by a St. Paul restaurant donating both the food and services, would be first, held in the same gymnasium where Laurie still led aerobics classes. While volunteers cleared this away and rearranged the seating, Vicky and Laurie would give tours of the center itself and hand out folders containing both what Ed called the propaganda and the financial nitty-gritty of the center's needs now and in the future. Then would come the program, composed largely of center youth and their families and some of Laurie's classes from both studios, and at the end the board would work the room over cocktails, trying to secure donations and sponsorships. It was all set up. All arranged. All they had to do was arrive on Saturday afternoon and follow the script.

The dinner, Oliver said, was to congratulate Laurie on his first job well done.

“I'll turn you into a professional philanthropist yet,” Oliver said, pouring Laurie a second glass of wine as Christopher put the finishing touches on dinner. “Of course, you'll do better when you make a little money again, but for now, this is a fine enough start.”

“Now you just need to convince him to perform solo,” Christopher called from the kitchen.

“Working on it,” Ed replied from the den.

Oliver laughed and clapped Laurie gently on the back as he sighed into his wine. Then he leaned closer.

“A fine, fine young man you have there, Laurence. And I will be doing my damnedest to get the pair of you into the hot tub later.”

“Oliver!” Laurie said, not caring that he sounded like an astonished virgin.

“Oh, come now. I'm not talking about a foursome. But I wouldn't mind seeing your partner's fine form lit by lanterns and glistening with hot, foamy water either.”

Laurie took a deeper drink of his wine and went to find solace in Ed.

“Nice place,” Ed said as Laurie sidled up to him.

“Oliver wants to see you naked,” Laurie said.

Ed laughed. “Okay, didn't see that coming.”

“He wants us to hot tub with them later.” Laurie drank more. “He's always been after me to loosen up. I think he sees this as his big chance.”

“Well, I surely won't mind.” Ed cupped Laurie's ass and kissed him on the cheek.

Dinner was exquisite, as it always was when Christopher cooked. Christopher was vegetarian, but as he promised, “You won't miss the meat.” After snacking on vegetarian tapenade, they had caprese salad and rosemary focaccia, followed by lasagna florentine. They finished with sweet cream over fresh berries for dessert, with some ice wine on the side. By the time it was over, Laurie was full, happy, and more than a little tipsy. He accepted the glass of port Oliver handed him but frowned when he noticed Ed refused. And when he thought back on it, he realized Ed hadn't had anything to drink all evening—not alcoholic, anyway.

“Had to take two Vicodin already tonight,” Ed confessed when Laurie asked him about it.

Two? It was hell to get Ed to take one, but
two
? And he wasn't giddy and acting drunk, just slightly foggy at best. Which meant he'd been taking enough lately to build up a tolerance. Which meant he'd been hurting. And hadn't said anything. Laurie put his wine down and gave Ed a severe look.

“It's fine,” Ed said grimly. “I mean, it's not. I have an appointment with a massage therapist tomorrow and PT the day after. It's nothing, though. It's just a bad patch.”

“We should take it easy at rehearsals, though,” Laurie said. “And you should have told me.”

Ed nodded. “I wasn't sure exactly it was a problem until just today, and there really hasn't been much of a moment to bring it up.” He squeezed Laurie's hand. “I'll be fine. Just relax and enjoy the evening.”

He pulled Laurie against his side and slid his arm around his shoulders to keep him in place while he rejoined his conversation with Oliver. On the couch opposite, Christopher and Oliver were paired much the same, except Christopher wasn't leaning quite as hard into Oliver, and Oliver's hold was much more slack. Drifting on a haze of alcohol, Laurie watched them idly stroking one another, aware that he and Ed were doing much the same.

Will we be like that when we're their age
? Laurie hoped so. He hoped they were even better. He hoped they were together that long. He let his mind drift ahead, imagining wild and crazy things like children and mortgages and vacations. He imagined having a Christmas tree filled with ornaments, each with a story from the year they'd picked it out.

He tried to imagine his professional future, tried to see himself back on stage, but to be honest, he couldn't see it clearly one way or another. He wanted to be with Ed. However that worked out. If his taking jobs would help make that future more secure, he'd do it. If he had to open another studio, he would. After five months of trying to arrange the perfect benefit for the center, after seeing how little he could personally effect, after realizing that Oliver was right, what mattered was that they had solid backing—for the first time, he acknowledged to himself that the center could fail, and he would still be okay. That had just been a dream to chase. That had been a way to try to find safekeeping for his happiness.