I found out who Ronnie was. This laid-back, non-binary person, who apparently was one of the first people in that group I met. They had dreads down to their shoulders and were rocking a cool, neon-colored, Miami-inspired jumper thing. I realized maybe I had browned-out and sobered up? I wasn’t sure, but I kept the party going.
Especially with Finn all over me. He had let go of my knee, but put his arm around me again. Then he started shoving me. At first, like a hockey check, then with his hands. Not a solid minute went by that he wasn’t touching me in some way.
Rickie and Kris got up to dance in the space between the sofas and the balcony’s edge while Finn and I chatted and laughed with Ronnie. I wanted to ask why they were there, meaning both LIV and Miami, but I didn’t. From our conversations, I knew none of them even lived in Florida. I also wanted to ask who the hell was paying for everything, because I was far from a mooch and wanted to throw some cash to someone.
Rickie and Kris started making out on our mini dance floor, which I could’ve seen coming, even if I didn’t think they were a couple. But then, another guy started dancing with them. Rickie kissed him first, and Kris followed suit.
I have to say, for someone who had imagined himself in a naked cuddle pile with those people, it was shocking. I didn’t recognize the other guy, but I guess they knew him? Or it didn’t matter? It really was whatever. Because not long after they started dancing the three-way tango, most of the rest of the group got up to dance too. Finn and I included.
At first, we danced with Ronnie in our best impression of awkward friends at a seventh-grade dance. It didn’t take long for Ronnie to leave Finn and me alone.
For some time, we just moved to the beat in front of each other. Catching the other’s eye and smiling. He took a step closer, and so did I. He leaned in to say something. I answered, he didn’t leave, swaying his hips ever closer to mine.
Then it changed. We were dancing together. With each other. In one another’s space in a way that could only be called intimate. Finn snaked his arm around my waist and ground his pelvis into mine, all without looking at me.
It was only a matter of time. I felt it, then felt his, and we made eye contact. We were both hard and rubbing them against each other. I’d never seen Finn like that. Confident to the point of… I didn’t even fucking know. More than that, he looked comfortable. Like he knew what he wanted for the first time I’d ever seen, and he was going to take it. Consequences be damned.
I could’ve kissed him. Maybe I should have. But he looked down at what our hips were doing, and I let my head fall back. Before we got another moment like that, the song changed, and the rest of the group returned to our seats. Only this time, my arm was around Finn, and Rickie was sitting in Kris’s lap in the chair next to us.
Rickie told us another story. I was sure by then she meant New York when she saidThe City.Rickie was hilarious, but Finn was everything, and I stopped paying attention halfway through. I leaned back, taking him with me. He was still engaged in her tale, but leaned against me without question or an ounce of resistance. I laughed at what Rickie said, certain it was funny.
I looked around at the group. People on laps, regardless of gender. A multitude of races, genders, and sexualities. It was easy to imagine those people as my friends. Just hanging out, enjoying life and each other. And Finn, as my boyfriend, cuddledup on me without so much as a second glance from anyone. Fuck, that hurt. Like pulling a loose tooth. Or poking a bruise. A good pain. One I sought.
What a fucking life that would be. I’m out, and my friends are accepting. I mean, no shit, they wouldn’t be my friends otherwise. No one in my life would be uncomfortable with a little PDA. But most of my friends were straight dudes. Some of them were still single and going out, but I didn’t have time for that. Most of them were new doctors too, or were busy with kids and wives, or girlfriends and work. They were great, and I loved them. But there was something about being with those folks.
Maybe it was the booze, the VIP treatment, or their easy-going nature. Or maybe it was just Finn?
No one was talking to us. My arm was at my side, his hand on his knee. We looked at each other. He looked at my lips, and I at his. His eyes began to close, and his head tilted.
“Is this where you guys have been?” Jason said, escorted by a security guard.
I sat back from Finn, and his head continued its trajectory so he could scratch the back of his neck.
Jason was nowhere near as drunk as we were. Not even on the same plane of existence. And he looked annoyed, which I took to mean pissed.
“I’ve been looking all the fuck over for you two. Miles is puking, and they’re kicking us out.”
I must not have looked innocent. Jason’s gaze flicked to Finn, then back to me, noticing how close we were sitting and how our bodies aligned. His brows twitched up, then down.
“Sorry, man,” I said, standing up. “I met these guys, and they invited me up here, then I found Finn alone and wasted, and they invited him up too. I looked for you guys, but couldn’t find anyone.”
“Yeah. No worries. We just gotta go. C’mon.” Jason looked at Finn, who was taking his time standing, possibly because something else was up.
I said goodbye to the people whose names I remembered and failed to get a single Venmo. Then gave myself all the shit I was sure Jason wanted to, but was too nice or mature to say. Miles got sick at his bachelor party, not a big deal. But his brother and best man were nowhere to be found. That was our job. My lifelong duty, and Finn’s appointed role. Jason had every right to be pissed.
As soon as we were out of the VIP section, whatever spell it had cast on Finn and me was broken. He wouldn’t look at me, and I feared what the bathroom mirror had to say once we got back to the room.
Chapter Seven
Ryder
Miles was safe and sound asleep in my old room. He’d have a wicked hangover come the morning, but he should have at least one on the trip. If he had gone home without having puked in public, I think our man cards would’ve been confiscated. Or at least Finn’s best man status revoked. Something Miles wasn’t afraid to do.
Finn and I hadn’t spoken a word to each other since leaving the VIP section. He helped with Miles, but we communicated through Jason and Tyler. I didn’t know whether they picked up on the weird tension or were too drunk, tired, and frustrated to give a single shit. Tyler, whom I always thought of as a lush, was one of the more sober ones. Connor was plastered, but not sick or passing out, just useless.
Finn was behind me as we entered our room. I held the door for him, and he looked me in the eye for the first time. His face was unreadable, and I went straight into the bathroom instead of trying.
I didn’t have the energy to investigate what the fuck was going on with him. Or, I didn’t need to. I knew the routinewell enough. The back and forth inside him. That game of self-recrimination and revelation over and over.
