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“How often does that happen?”
“Often enough. Especially right now because we’ve got an issue with a new module.” Holden waved a hand in the air. “Which is really boring work stuff, but it’s why I was on the flight to Denver instead of back in Virginia like I’d told you I was going to be.”
The tone at their little table had gotten too somber, so Holden drained the last of his Manhattan, then stood and held out his hand for Greg. “Dance with me?” Without a word, Greg put his drink down and entwined his fingers with Holden’s. When they were standing face-to-face, Holden pulled Greg against him. “I don’t want to talk about jobs. I don’t want to talk about what will happen after this. I just want to concentrate on right now and the time I get to spend with you. Deal?”
“Deal,” Greg said, then brought his lips to Holden’s and kissed him the way Holden had always wanted to be kissed.
It was part desire, but also part invitation to explore as Greg opened for him and teased at his lips. Holden was more than happy to accept the offer and happily tangled his tongue with Greg’s. They took their time, exploring each other as if they were alone instead of surrounded by people. No kiss had ever felt so intimate, and it made Holden realize how much he had underestimated the erotic power of two bodies connecting lip to lip for the sake of the kiss itself rather than what it might lead to. Without the thought of it being a prelude to something more—though why the idea of sex being “more” completely eluded Holden at the moment—his mind was completely focused on this moment, the way Greg felt in his arms, and how very happy he was to have him there.
Chapter thirteen
Greg
WhenGregwasinmiddle school, the crushes his classmates developed on each other completely mystified him. He watched the girls get giggly and shy, and the boys—once they started to notice the girls’ interest—engage in stupid acts of bravado and try to outdo each other on the playground or phys ed. He feigned interest in girls throughout high school, dated a couple after his friends pointed out their interest, but still wasn’t sure what the big deal was with having a girlfriend.
His grandmother had called him a late bloomer and told him not to worry about it. “When you meet the right one, you’ll know,” she’d said and regaled him with stories about how she’d known as soon as she’d seen his grandfather and how his parents had followed a similar path.
It wasn’t until Greg had been in the military for a couple of years that he realized he was gay, and while it cleared up one mystery for him, it opened up a completely new one after he left the service. No matter if he liked a guy, liked being with him, liked fooling around with him, his level of arousal never came close to what his friends talked about or what he saw in movies or read in books. He tried to fake it, tried to mimic what he’d seen other people do, hoping that something would change.
Ultimately, what had changed was Greg coming across the term “asexual” and recognizing himself in its definition. It had been a moment of revelation, a relief to finally understand something about himself that far eclipsed the moment he’d realized he was gay. There was nothing wrong with him; he just didn’t feel sexual attraction.
And then there had been Wes.
They’d met when Greg was twenty-nine, and Greg felt the kind of giddiness he remembered his peers experiencing when he was in school. He loved being with Wes, loved the anticipation of their dates, the first moment he saw Wes after they’d been separated by Greg’s flight schedule, the first kiss when they came back together. The touches and intimacy were everything Greg had hoped to find in a relationship, and with the help of little blue pills and cock rings, they had what Greg thought of as a decent sex life. If Greg’s sex drive was still low, Wes didn’t seem to mind, and Greg thought everything was fine until the night Wes asked to top.
In addition to leaving a lasting reminder of himself—nothing said “happy anniversary” like getting bloodwork done every year on the day he was diagnosed—and a deep sense of betrayal and distrust, Wes confused Greg. Months later, he’d still been trying to figure out what he’d felt for the man and how he could have read their relationship so wrong. It wasn’t until Micah opened up about Jake’s aromanticism that Greg started to find more pieces of his own puzzle and fit them into place. After more research, questions, introspection, and carefully parsing through his memories, Greg had finally recognized the difference between romantic and sexual attraction and realized being asexual didn’t mean he was incapable of having romantic feelings for someone. But romantic attraction didn’t necessarily lead to sexual attraction. At least not for him.
As Holden led him onto the dance floor, Greg felt the brush of butterfly wings in his stomach and was pretty sure he was feeling the giddiness of romantic attraction.
The music was perfect for couples dancing: slightly upbeat, but nothing too fast. If you could dance, there was enough of a beat to show off some moves, but if all you could do was sway together, you weren’t going to look foolish. The music at Neon had been pulsing EDM, which Holden hadn’t really been able to follow, but Greg could tell by the confident way he was being led he was in for a completely different experience.
Holden spun Greg into position in front of himself, then put one hand on the small of his back, entwined the fingers of their other hands, and brought their bodies into alignment. “This is much more my style,” he said and began some simple movement with his feet and hips that Greg was able to follow without trouble, even if it wasn’t the type of dancing he was used to.
The butterflies settled somewhat as they began to move, and Greg relaxed into Holden’s sure-footed lead. He’d never been held like this before, never danced with a partner to anything besides club music, and his self-consciousness disappeared. Anything that wasn’t Holden faded into the background until there was nothing but the two of them in sync with each other.
One song led into another, but Holden continued to keep Greg close, his hand pressed into the small of Greg’s back, swaying through the pause and the new song’s intro. This time, the music was a little more upbeat and several of the couples who had also been on the floor went back to their tables leaving Greg and Holden on their own.
“Ready to kick things up a notch?” Holden asked.
“What do you mean?”
Holden grinned. “Just follow my lead. Don’t worry about anything but the beat, okay?”
Before Greg could ask for clarification, Holden switched his hand positions and began leading them into more animated dance moves. They’d segued from casual dance into swing with bigger steps, rocking back and forth, and then Holden spun Greg out and pulled him back in without breaking their rhythm. Greg laughed as he found himself back in Holden’s arms.
As Greg got better at following, Holden tried some more complicated moves. It was nothing fancy, just some spins and a couple of deep dives with their joined hands. His footwork got a bit more intricate, and Greg tried to follow but ended up tripping over Holden’s feet nearly bringing both of them to the floor. They laughed as Holden righted them.
“You okay?” he asked as he got them back into the rhythm of the music.
“Fine.” Greg felt the heat in his face but didn’t care. He was having a blast. And those butterflies? They’d fallen into step with the beat of the music as well.
The song was reaching the end. Holden raised his eyebrows, and Greg nodded, knowing something was coming and all he had to do was follow. Sure enough, as the music reached a crescendo, Holden spun Greg out, then back, waited a beat, and dipped Greg backward, holding him almost parallel to the floor as the song ended and everyone clapped.
Greg was pretty sure his smile matched the one he saw on Holden’s face. And when he looked into Holden’s eyes, he knew. He liked this man. He liked him a lot. Greg lifted his head so there was almost no distance between his mouth and Holden’s.
“Kiss me,” he said, and Holden did.
Theyreturnedtothecabin a little more than an hour later. Greg’s mother had insisted on giving them a ride in one of the inn’s golf carts. Holden had ridden in the back and gotten out after thanking Rose for the ride. She reached out and took hold of Greg’s hand before he had a chance to follow. When he looked back at his mother, she nodded toward Holden and smiled.
