“I just like the song,” I said and pulled him close to me. “I like most kinds of music, actually.”
“With your ear plugs, tattoos, and beard, I always thought of you as the heavy metal type.”
I cradled his lower back, holding him close, glad he wasn’t fighting me. We didn’t do much dancing because I sensed a round of bickering coming on. “I don’t know about head-banging, but I have been known to do a lot of ass-banging in my days.”
He rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders dramatically. “You seriously overestimate yourself.”
“I don’t know,” I teased. “You haven’t seen me fifteen years ago. I was the object of everyone’s desire.”
“So, what you’re saying is you were even more annoying fifteen years ago?” His lip was curled up, his eyes shining with amusement now as if he enjoyed our verbal sparring as much as I did.
Fuck, but I loved the sweet tumble of excitement in my gut too much to stop. “You’re the one that is annoying, remember? You said it yourself.” I stepped away from him. “I’m going to prove something to you right now.”
I left him standing in front of the television and scavenged my closet for my shoebox of memories. Some were racy polaroids of men I’d had brief relationships with, others promotional flyers for events. I pushed past the stacks and found what I was looking for. I wasn’t above showing off. Admitting I was vain was the first step to fixing that flaw, but I wanted to see the expression on Matteo’s face when he got a look at me in peak condition.
I returned to his side and handed him the picture printed on cardstock. It was a dance off for go-go-boys, with me being crowned the king of the competition as a twenty-one-year-old. He leaned in, furrowed his brows then did a once over on me. I gloated as he covered his smile while his attention bounced between the flier and me.
“Yeah, I had abs back then,” I said. “And I shaved.”
“Wait, you were a go-go boy?” His expression of amused-disbelief was comical. It was nice getting one over on him for a change.
“Yup. Where do you think I learned those dance moves I employed for the benefit? I wasn’t just born with them, amirite? That kind of stuff takes years of practicing shaking your ass.”
“Well, I’m surprised you didn’t break a hip or something,” he said. “Seeing as you’re no longer a spring cock.”
I snatched the flier away from him, slightly annoyed. “Oh, shut it, brat. I’m not that old and I’ve still got it, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ll have you know I received three phone numbers that night.”
“Only three?”
I sighed, dejected. I realized too late I was actually trying to impress him. “You’re a big meanie, you know that?”
He bit into his smile and took the flier back from me, skimming his fingers over the glossy surface. “Well, I’ll admit that you were a stud back then. There was a reason you won the competition.”
I tipped my head up. “Still am a stud.”
He said nothing more, just casted me a look I couldn’t decipher.
“Anyway, that was a lifetime ago and I’m a different person now,” I said with a sigh. Sometimes, I really missed the person I used to be.
We sat back down as the program went to a commercial. “How did you go from a masc-twink to a teddy bear?”
“Hey, everyone loves teddy bears so don’t knock it.” I pushed my hand through my hair and pulled, feeling suddenly out of place. “Short answer, I grew up. And the bosses promoted me to bouncer because I was big enough for it.”
“Wait, you danced here? At the Adonis?”
“When I landed in Chicago, I’d applied at every gay club I could. I had the body and looks and was pretty good with the moves. The bosses called me first and hired me on the spot. They were looking for a ginger, apparently. That kind of job leads toendless offers of anonymous sex. I took full advantage of it, but I explained how it all turned out. It’s been thirteen years since I made that promise, and I haven’t broken it.” I kept it to myself that I had a feeling I was going to break my promise soon here. You could only fight loneliness for so long until you admitted defeat.
“It sounds like you’ve had an exciting life,” he said, looking at the flier sitting on the coffee table.
“Yeah, but exciting isn’t always exciting, amirite? Sometimes you just want to cuddle up on the couch, watch television, and talk about unimportant, boring things and do nothing at all, because I’ve discovered in my wise years that it’s the little things that really count.”
He furrowed his brows and glanced at me, the deep brown of his irises like coffee. I liked the way he looked at me, as if he were thinking things he refused to admit to, as if he couldn’t help wondering what I looked like naked. The music on the television turned lively and I got to my feet.
Tugging at his hand, I whimpered, “Come on, dance with me. Let me scintillate you with my Mick Jagger hips.”
He grumbled and settled into the couch like an immovable iron ball. “You just want to peacock with your hot moves.”
I stilled and beamed at him. “So, you admit that my moves get you all hot and bothered?”
