Skye Blue, page 13
part #6 of Firsts and Forever Series
“Actually, I think I’m going to go to work, even though I’ll be starting late. They’ve been short-handed,” I said.
“Okay, so we’ll give you a ride there.”
Christian wove his way through the crowd, grinning like a maniac. River was with him. By contrast, he was etching such a deep frown line between his brows that it was probably going to become permanent. “There he is,” Christian exclaimed, “the new face and body of the gay rights movement!”
“Hardly,” I said, then turned to my brother. “Hi. Sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I used my one phone call to let my employer know I’d be missing work.”
“I heard you got a job as a go-go dancer,” he said, the frown line growing a bit deeper. “What’s that about?”
“It’s about me needing to earn money and finding a super fun, decent-paying way to make that happen.”
“I’ve been to that club, the dancers are practically naked!”
“Oh come on! We wear shorts, everything’s covered.”
“As if that’s not bad enough, I just found out about the job you had before that,” he said. I’d never bothered to tell him about my first foray into go-go dancing, because the place was admittedly sleazy and I knew how it’d go over. I shot my friend a look over his shoulder, and Christian looked guilty and mouthed the word ‘sorry.’
“Admittedly, that job was a mistake,” I told him.
“Ya think?”
“Are we really going to do this now?”
“No.” River started to leave but I caught his arm, and when he turned toward me, I grabbed him in a hug. At first, it was like trying to hug his surfboard, there was no give whatsoever. But when he realized I wasn’t going to let go until he participated a bit, he sighed and put his arms around me. After a moment he whispered, “I’m so fucking worried about you.”
“You don’t need to be, I promise.”
He pulled back and looked me in the eye. Usually, I didn’t see any of myself in my brother. We had different fathers, his Latino, mine Jewish, and those vastly different gene pools meant we looked nothing alike. But just then, I recognized something in his dark eyes, an uncertainty that I saw sometimes when I looked in the mirror.
“I’d probably be more easily convinced of that if we weren’t having this conversation in a police station,” he said as he let go of me. I didn’t stop him this time when he turned and walked away. I had to fix us, I knew that. First though, I had to figure out how.
Christian threw his arm around my shoulders and said, “Let’s get out of here. I heard you say you want to go in to work, so I’ll come along and hang out until you’re done.”
Nana was close beside us and she exclaimed, “I’ve never been to a gay homosexual disco! I want to go have a drink and see where Skye works. Everyone should come!” This suggestion was met with much excitement by a little group of her girlfriends, each of which was in her seventies or eighties and under five-foot-two.
Dante and Charlie said they had to get back to their restaurant, and Trevor agreed. He worked for them as a chef’s apprentice. Everyone else loved the idea though, and all of us began filtering toward the door.
On my way out, I spotted Shea behind the counter and smiled at him. He smiled too and gave me a little wave, and then his gaze flickered to my best friend, who still had his arm around my shoulders. His expression turned wistful as he stared after Christian, his lips parting slightly. Question answered: Shea was definitely gay. I glanced at my best friend, who seemed oblivious to all of that. Or maybe he was used to it. Christian was gorgeous, after all, and turned heads wherever he went.
*****
It was really fun to burst into my place of business with over twenty people in tow. Granted, it was Nana’s entourage, not mine, but it was still exhilarating. I was flanked by Nana, her arm linked with mine and her eyes bright with excitement, and Christian, who held my hand.
A ripple went through the crowd. That was when I realized that thanks to our appearance on the news, we were now minor local celebrities. I was a bit surprised at how positive the crowd’s reaction was, since that hadn’t exactly been the right way to commit an act of civil disobedience. Nana had gone after those assholes with a car, after all, and I’d been worried that people would think she was a homicidal maniac. But apparently the fact that she’d only been going four miles an hour, combined with the big, pink dick sticking out the sunroof, the fact that she was blasting Elton John, and the go-go dancer (me) must have driven the point home that she was just making a statement and not actually trying to harm anyone.
When you wanted to harm someone you played Wagner, not Sir Elton.
My employer appeared beside me, looking happier than I’d ever seen him. “Kid! You made it in after all! And you brought friends, good on you!” I was surprised when he grabbed me in a bear hug and slapped my back. “I’m happy they let you out!”
“Thank you, sir,” I murmured. I was still shirtless, so the hug was slightly awkward.
He let go of me and said, “Did you come to work? You don’t have to, you’re probably wiped out after that day you had. Did you come straight from the police station?” When I nodded, he said, “I saw you getting arrested on live TV, so I know you were there for hours. That had to have taken its toll. Why don’t you go sit at the bar and have a drink, on the house.”
“I’ll take you up on the drink after I work what’s left of my shift, Mr. Sandberg. I mean, if that’s okay.”
“You sure?” When I nodded he said, “Alright then. I want you to share the main stage with Dare, you deserve to be in the spotlight tonight.” At the mention of that name, I turned and looked at the stage, but it was empty. “He went on break about a minute ago,” Sandberg explained.
“I’m going to get changed. But before I do, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” I tapped Nana on the shoulder, and when she turned to me with a huge smile on her face, I introduced the club owner. He immediately started fawning over her and giving her the V.I.P. treatment, which made me happy.
I’d been distracted by the day’s events, but now The Incident, as I’d taken to calling my first blow job, loomed in my mind. I grabbed Christian’s hand and said, right into his ear because it was loud in the club, “I’m going to be sharing the stage with Dare. Thought I’d give you a heads-up.”
“Why do I need a heads up?”
“Because I know you hate him, and after what happened between him and me, I think this might be weird for you.”
He held my gaze and raised an eyebrow. “As long as you two don’t start twerking all over each other, I think I can keep my lunch down.”
I kissed the side of his head and said, “Well good,” then headed for the dressing room as everyone else made their way to the bar.
Dare was pacing when I found him in the locker room. Today was apparently red day, and the little pair of crimson shorts he was wearing hugged his ass in ways that made my brain hand the controls directly to my dick. He stopped when he saw me and just stared for a couple seconds, then quickly tried to dodge around me.
I took a step to the left so that I was directly in his path and said, “Oh, come on,” as I detained him with my palms against his chest. “Is this how you’re going to play it, running away every time you see me?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Look, I get that this is awkward, but that doesn’t change the fact that we have to work together. In fact, Sandberg asked me to dance on the main stage with you, so you need to get a grip.” Without really realizing I was doing it, I ran my hands lightly over his skin and stepped just a little closer to him. God he smelled good.
“Christ,” he muttered. I realized that his heart was racing, and I slid my hand directly over it. “What are you doing?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe you should stop doing it, then.” As he said that, his hands came up and encircled my waist.
“You’re right, I should,” I murmured. Only about five percent of me was listening, though. The rest was thrumming with a need so powerful, it was drowning out all rational thought. I ran my hands up to his broad shoulders, then leaned against him and breathed him in.
His hands slid up my back as he muttered, “You’ve seen the outfits we have to wear, right? I can’t go back to work with an erection. There’s absolutely no way to disguise it.”
“Yeah, but the boner ship has already sailed,” I murmured, rocking my hips forward and rubbing my hard-on against his.
He cupped my ass with both hands as he said, “I can’t believe I’m this attracted to a guy who says things like boner ship.”
“Now you’re just trying to talk yourself out of me.” My hands slid around to his butt too, and I pulled him against me.
“It’s almost working. Say something else annoying. Boner ship was a real turn off. Now try stiffie submarine. Or maybe woody watercraft. I think the addition of alliteration will really push it over the top.”
I straightened up – I’d been hovering near the side of his neck – and looked into his eyes. He was fighting back a smile. “Oh my God,” I exclaimed, “you actually have a sense of humor!”
He knit his brows at me and said, “Do you really have to sound that shocked?”
“Yes!”
“Hey, look! You’re annoying again.” He stepped around me and went back to work, still fighting that smile, and I stared after him. There were some not-so-subtle adjustments to the front of his shorts before he stepped through the door to the club.
The sense of humor had been almost as big a revelation as The Incident.
I dressed quickly, then took a look at myself in the mirror that covered one wall. Red really wasn’t a good color for people with blue hair, but oh well.
When I jogged into the club and up onto the main stage, I was greeted with a loud chorus of cheers and applause. Okay, so this fifteen minutes of fame thing was pretty cool. I spotted Nana and her little girlfriends right near the front of the stage, and gestured for them to join me. This was her fifteen minutes too, after all, more than it was mine.
Nana looked absolutely delighted as she and her friends rushed over to the stairs and up onto the stage. They all started emulating my dance moves as people gathered around, clapping to the music and cheering them on. It was great to see Nana clearly enjoying herself.
Dare surprised me yet again by joining in. He danced with each of Nana’s friends in turn, dipping them and spinning them around and making them laugh delightedly. He usually looked dead serious when he was performing on stage, but he actually seemed like he was having fun for a change.
As I watched him take Nana’s hand and bow formally to her before the two of them totally rocked out, I realized my attraction to him was more than just sexual. I liked this guy. I just didn’t get it, though. I didn’t get how someone that would dance with seniors and be this nice and make me feel the way he did could also be such a total jerk at times.
But then, maybe I needed to give both him and me the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there was a reason he acted the way he did sometimes. Maybe he was struggling with things I knew nothing about. I was also giving myself the benefit of the doubt because I usually didn’t fall for jerks. If I was going to trust my judgment, I had to believe there was more to Dare and his behavior than met the eye.
After three songs, Nana and the Nanettes left the stage, fanning themselves and batting their eyelashes at Dare and me. I felt kind of awkward now that it was just the two of us. Last time we’d been on this stage together, it had been rather explosive....
Without meaning to, I glanced at the spot where Dare had shot his load and immediately a blush erupted onto my cheeks. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, and rolled his eyes before crossing the stage to me and whispering, “Yeah, I know. But there are a couple hundred people watching us right now, so maybe we should try not to embarrass ourselves. Let’s tag team on the pole, I’ll go first.”
A burst of laughter escaped me and I whispered, “Oh yeah, way to get me to stop thinking about sex. Tag-teaming the pole, good lord!”
He shook his head as he raised my arm up for me, high-fived my palm, and said, “Tag in five minutes from now, then watch for my tag five minutes after that.” With that, he turned and ran across the stage, grabbed the pole at chest height, then swung his body up and over, catching himself with one leg. God was he graceful. It was really hard to remember to dance instead of just standing there staring at him.
It was too bad that I had to tag in after a few minutes, because I just wanted to go on watching him. I did as he’d asked though, and approached him as he hung upside down and held his hand out to me, then slapped his palm. He leapt down and started dancing across the stage, and I took hold of the pole and tried a couple of the moves I’d been practicing this week.
I wasn’t even sort of in his league. I felt like a kid on a three-wheeler who’s just watched a Ferrari burn up the track. But I had two things going for me: I enjoyed the hell out of what I was doing, and I had friends clapping and cheering in the audience. Both of those things helped pump up the crowd.
We switched off like this several times, until a couple other dancers relieved us for our break. Dare immediately took off without a glance back at me and I was intercepted by Nana and her friends, who gushed about my performance, then asked if I could teach them pole dancing. Oh God. After a minute, I managed to slip away without committing to anything.
I found Dare in the restroom, splashing water on his face. All his weight was supported by his left leg, the right one bent so that only the tips of his toes touched the floor. I’d noticed that a slight limp always appeared over the course of each of his shifts, but only while walking. He kept the pain totally concealed when he was dancing.
“That was fun,” I said, leaning against the sink beside his.
He straightened up and scrubbed his face dry with a couple paper towels, then turned to me and said, “I can’t do this, Skye.”
“Do what?”
“This,” he repeated. “What happened was a mistake.”
“How can it be a mistake if it’s what we both want?”
“It just is. I don’t do casual sex, and I have absolutely no interest in starting a relationship.”
That stung a bit. “So, I’m good enough to suck, but not good enough to date.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
A couple of our coworkers came into the adjacent locker room, laughing and talking. I lowered my voice so we wouldn’t be overheard and said, “Let me ask you something. If I’m so repulsive to you, why’d you kiss me? And why’d you go down on me?”
“You’re not repulsive at all. I wish you were, frankly, because then I wouldn’t be so fucking attracted to you.”
“Since that attraction’s totally mutual, why can’t we be together?”
“Because of me. Skye, you’re phenomenal. You’re like a hundred fireworks going off at once, that’s how brightly you shine. But I’m damaged beyond repair and there’s no way I can do this.”
“I don’t believe that.” I tried to take his hand, but he pulled it away.
“Please stop trying with me. I have absolutely nothing to give you, and I’m sorry for starting this in the first place. It was impulsive and—”
I stepped forward, cupped his chin gently and kissed him. Every part of him responded, his lips parting, his hands grasping me, his body pressing against mine – but for only a few moments. When he pulled back, there was such raw despair in his eyes that it was startling. “Go find someone that’ll live in the light with you, Skye, not drag you down into the dark.” He turned and walked away from me and I just watched him go, musing idly that that must have been the most poetic blow-off in the history of blow-offs.
I wondered what had happened to him to result in that much hurt and sadness. I’d probably never know, though. I had to stop pushing, no matter how much I was attracted to him, because this thing between us was causing him so much distress.
It was strange to miss something I’d never even had, but that was how I felt. A kind of heaviness settled on me but I couldn’t let myself give in to it, not now. I had to go back to work, and see my friends, and get used to being around Dare without this aching need for him. Fortunately, I was good at masking my sadness.
I turned toward the mirror and pulled up a smile. I’d rehearsed this a lot in the months following my suicide attempt, when I wanted nothing more than to ease everyone’s worry. I’d gotten really good at making it seem like I was okay, no matter what was going on inside me.
*****
When I got home that night I went straight to my computer, because I really wanted to talk to Mac after the day I’d had. I doubted I’d tell him about Dare, because it seemed cruel somehow. I’d felt such misplaced jealousy when he talked about being attracted to some guy at his job, and I didn’t want to do the same thing to him.
Even if I didn’t discuss what had happened, I knew just talking to him in general would still make me feel better. We almost never chatted about what was going on in our daily lives, actually. We sometimes traded stories about things in our past that we carried with us, because talking about them lightened the load somehow. But a lot of times we chatted about nothing at all, simply exchanging little observations and joking around, trying to make each other laugh. There was such an easy camaraderie with him and even just chatting about random things was a comfort.
It was all pretty confusing. On one hand, I was drawn to Dare like iron to a magnet. But at the same time, here was this guy that I didn’t know at all, a name on a computer screen, and I was drawn to him, too. He’d become a good friend and confidante, but there was more to it.
There was an attraction there. True, I didn’t know what he looked like, but I didn’t really care. I was attracted to what was inside, to his heart and soul, to the goodness and tenderness in him. It was as real as any physical attraction. I didn’t have a clue how that could be happening simultaneously with what I was feeling for Dare, given how totally overwhelming that was. But there was no denying it.
