Max smiled back and then tilted his chin in the direction of her still-full plate.
“How about once we’re done eating I show you how to salsa?”
Stella had almost forgotten the origin of this conversation.
“I’d like that,” she said. “Only you have to promise not to spin me so hard I get sick.”
“Don’t worry. If you get sick, I’ll take care of you.”
There was something about the way his voice had gone soft and the gentle look in his eyes that made Stella believe him.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s dance.”
Twenty
No one else was out on the dance floor, so Max didn’t have to worry about taking up too much space and guided Stella right to the middle. The band started up a new song that was all horns and a fast beat. Taking the lead, Max started to move.
He’d been slightly worried he wouldn’t remember how to salsa, but once he got going, his muscle memory kicked in. At first Stella was hesitant, her eyes glued to his feet. Max hooked a finger under her chin, guiding her eyes to his.
“Just look at me,” he said. “I got you.”
And he did. He knew it in his bones. When Jorge had suggested they take salsa lessons, Max’s first thought was why? There was no real need for him to know how to dance, but Jorge had told him that was his problem. Max didn’t know how to do things just to do them. He was always looking at the practicality of things instead of just the fun of them.
Ultimately, that led to them breaking up, but before that,they took the salsa lessons. And as much as Max hated to admit it, Jorge had been right. For two hours once a week, Max had lost himself in dance, and it was on that floor when he felt closest to his native home.
Now he easily guided Stella around the dance floor. Her footwork could certainly improve, but she was happy to follow him where he led, and she had a natural rhythm that made things easy. She let him twirl her around and pull her in close, her back to his front. Stella took control then, grinding her hips against him for a beat, before he twirled her out again, pulling her back so she was facing him.
“I think it’s a little early in the night for that kind of dance,” he said to her.
Stella grinned and said, “Sorry.”
Max didn’t believe she was sorry at all.
The song they were dancing to came to an end, and the band transitioned to a slower song. At this point, Max was sure they were playing just for him and Stella, but when he looked around, he saw two other couples had joined them.
Max took Stella’s hands and placed them on his shoulders. He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her closer, and they began swaying along to the slower music.
“It looks like we started a trend,” he whispered into her ear.
Stella looked around and smiled. “Wow, I guess we’re trendsetters.”
“I guess so.”
Max leaned down and kissed her, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It scared him a little bit how easy things felt with her now that they’d put aside all the work stuff.
He hadn’t planned on telling her he also dated men, mainly because Max hated the fact that for the rest of his life he’d have to come out over and over again. People always assumed he was straight because he was masculine, and for some reason it was still hard for people to comprehend that sexuality couldn’t be determined by the way a person dressed or acted. Max liked men, but he also liked wearing suits and watching basketball games andRuPaul’s Drag Race. It was especially irritating when he was dating a woman, because he often felt like he was cosplaying as a straight person, but he found it difficult to say, “I know what this looks like, but I’m actually bi” in regular conversation.
Max could feel it now as he broke their kiss and they continued dancing among the other couples who were also straight presenting, but he knew no one was paying attention to them and questioning whether or not they were straight. Things like that wouldn’t come up until they went to Pride and started catching sideways glances, an experience Max had had before.
He shook his head, trying to dislodge those memories and focus on the woman who was right in front of him, and who probably would understand exactly how he was feeling because she was bi, too.
Max pressed another kiss to her lips, and when he pulled back, he found Stella smiling up at him.
“I think you might even be a better kisser than you are a dancer,” she said.
“You know what, I can accept that,” he said. He pressed another quick peck to her lips before whispering in her ear, “Although I think we both know my mouth can be put to better use in other places.”
When he pulled away again, her smile had turned more conspiratorial.
