Page 22 of Flirty Dancing

22

All I Ask of You

“Archer!” Betty announced when he took his seat next to her again. “Eileen has a karaoke machine!”

“Okay?” Archer chuckled, helping himself to yet another scone. “And we’re excited about this?”

“I love karaoke!” Betty exclaimed. “And it happens to be my birthday on Wednesday.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Eileen said we could borrow it for a little party. And,” she turned to Eileen and gripped her arm, “you have to come! Wednesday night, after the second show. Please?”

“Of course, if you want an old woman—”

“Yes, I do! Definitely.”

“Very well.” Eileen’s face shone. “I’ll be there.”

Later, when they were back in Eileen’s tiny kitchen cleaning up, Archer mentioned Betty’s birthday to Mateo. “I think I’m going to head into town on Wednesday to get some stuff for a party. Do you want to come?” The invitation flowed easily from his lips, but sent his pulse fluttering.

“Sure,” Mateo said casually, rinsing off a platter. “Sounds fun.”

So that was how the two of them came to be hopping onto the Shady Queens shuttle together Wednesday morning. Just friends , Archer said to himself as he climbed on behind Mateo, taking in the curve of his butt and sculpted calves. Not a date. But God, he’s hot.

They waved to Mrs. C, who was driving, and sat together in the first row. When a large, sunburned man clambered on after them to grab the last seat, Archer had to scoot over to the middle so he was right up against Mateo’s bare arm, smelling his freshly applied aftershave. Then they were on their way, bouncing down the gravel drive.

“Do you like karaoke?” Archer asked, ignoring the jolts of electricity each time their legs bumped together. “Betty’s so excited for it.”

Mateo gave him a wry look. “I don’t really do karaoke.”

“Why not? You’re an amazing singer.” He felt like an idiot as soon as he said it. The man fucking headlined two Broadway shows. He didn’t need some schmo from Ohio telling him that.

Mateo’s eyebrow climbed even farther up his forehead. “When I get up there, people have expectations. Then they either think I suck, and I’ve let them down, or they’re impressed, and they want me to do ten more songs. Of course, sometimes people have no idea who I am, but feel the need to approach me and tell me I should be a singer, and then it’s awkward, like ‘Well, actually…’” He shrugged. “I’d prefer to avoid all that.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Although I still hope you’ll sing tonight? With just your friends around?”

Mateo avoided the question with a shrug. “What about you? Do you like karaoke?”

“Sure, it’s fun. Lynn loves it too. I get up there with her sometimes. She always wants to duet ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light.’”

To Archer’s delight, Mateo laughed at that. “Excellent song choice. That would be fun for karaoke.”

“Maybe you’ll sing it with me tonight?” Archer wanted to kick himself as soon as he said it. What the fuck was he thinking, asking to duet with Mateo Dixon?

Mateo studied him for a moment. “Maybe.”

“I mean… you don’t have to,” Archer backtracked. “I’m not that good.”

“I don’t care how good you are,” Mateo said. “And you’re right, it will be different with friends.”

“Okay,” Archer said. “If you want to.” He took a deep breath and tried to relax. Their legs touched the rest of the trip.

Mrs. C dropped them off in the square by the general store, and they went in there first to get a card, snacks, and decorations. Their next stop was the vintage boutique to pick out a gift. Archer found a kimono cardigan he knew Betty would love—black with pink flowers—and Mateo bought her a straw hat with a pink band that matched the cardigan.

Finally, the Hallfield bakery. Archer hadn’t been inside the last time, but he remembered the mouthwatering smell from when he walked by. The place was packed with sweaty tourists, giving them plenty of time to browse the cases while they waited for their turn. As per Hallfield’s claim to fame, there was a whole display case of pies. Archer hovered, trying not to drool.

“Does Betty like blueberry pie?” Mateo asked with a playful nudge. “Or is this for you?”

Archer chuckled. “I’m tempted! But you’re right, let’s look at the cupcakes.” Archer took Mateo’s arm and pulled him over to the next display case, which proved an effective distraction from the pies.

There were at least ten different types of cupcakes of all colors of the rainbow. Archer hemmed and hawed, trying to make up his mind. “Chocolate fudge, vanilla cream, strawberry cheesecake… Oh, man, how do we choose?” he moaned.

“Easy,” Mateo said, nodding at the worker waiting to take their order. “We get some of each.”

They left with two dozen cupcakes, although Archer already knew his favorite would be the chocolate fudge with rainbow frosting. Out on the sidewalk, he carefully balanced the boxes to check the time. “We still have half an hour until the next shuttle. Was there anywhere else you wanted to go?”

Mateo looked toward the park on one side of the square. Children squealed as they played in the spray from the fountain, and a stand by the entrance advertised ice-cold, freshly squeezed lemonade. “Do you want to go check out the park?”

“Yes. Love that idea.”

They strolled toward the green space, Archer holding the cupcake boxes like they were made of glass.

“You got those okay?” Mateo asked.

Archer nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah, but I’m a little freaked out that I’m going to drop them.”

“Here, give me your other bags,” Mateo said, reaching for the handles.

“Thanks,” Archer said, tingling when their fingertips touched. He knew it was ridiculous, because they were wrapped around each other on stage all the time, but this felt different, out shopping, just another couple in a happy, summer crowd. So much like a date. Not a date, he reminded himself again.

Mateo stopped when they got to the lemonade stand. “Can I get you one?”

Not a date. “Oh, yes, please.”

After he paid, Mateo carried their drinks over to a shaded bench.

Archer set the yellow boxes tied with white string between them and frowned thoughtfully. “Would it be bad if we ate two of these before the party? Twenty-two is enough, right?”

“Well…” Mateo bent down and pulled a small box out of one of his shopping bags. “I thought you might say that.” He opened the box to reveal two of the rainbow chocolate fudge cupcakes.

Archer’s jaw dropped. “You… are my new favorite person. I didn’t even notice you buying those!”

Mateo looked pleased with himself. “I saw the way you were looking at them. I snuck another order in when they were packing up the first one. Here.” He handed Archer one of the cupcakes, then pulled the other out.

Archer peeled off the crinkly gold wrapper and licked his lips. “It’s so beautiful I almost don’t want to ruin it.” He was also aware that there was no way to eat this without getting icing all over his face.

“Cupcakes are meant to be eaten,” Mateo said, then opened wide and took a big bite. The rainbow icing left a smear over his lips. Mateo laughed and licked it off.

Archer took a bite of his too, taste buds humming at the rich fudge flavor and burst of vanilla sweetness from the frosting. “Oh my God,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “This is incredible.”

“Mm-hmm,” Mateo agreed, licking icing off his finger. “So good.” He took another bite, then jammed the rest of it in his mouth. He laughed, wiping at his chin. “I’ve got icing everywhere, don’t I?”

“Kind of.” Archer giggled.

Mateo wiped at his face again. “Did I get it all?”

“You have a tiny bit of pink…” Archer reached for the corner of Mateo’s mouth, but then he realized what he was doing. His fingers froze an inch from Mateo’s face.

Mateo’s tongue slid out and licked along his lip. “How about now?”

“Um…” Archer’s brain tripped over the thought of what else Mateo’s tongue might want to lick. “Almost… There you go.”

Mateo grinned. “Worth the mess though.”

Archer finished his too, then they sat in a comfortable silence, sipping their lemonade and watching the passersby. Two young men, maybe eighteen or nineteen, caught his eye. They were sitting on the edge of the fountain, laughing and eating soft pretzels. One of them leaned over and pecked the other on the cheek. The man looked surprised for a moment, then kissed him back. Archer’s heart twinged.

“Things okay with you and Caleb now?” Mateo asked, startling Archer out of his thoughts.

“What? Oh, yes. I think so? I don’t know. I mean, it’s a little awkward, but… he knows he messed up. And he’s trying.”

Mateo leaned back, nodding. “That’s good. I feel like he’s trying more with me, too. He offered to write another email to The Broadway Broad asking them to retract but…” Mateo shrugged. “What’s done is done. And I’m old news now. I don’t think anyone actually cared this time.”

Archer wanted to reach over the yellow boxes to pat Mateo’s hand, but instead he fiddled with his empty lemonade cup. “That’s good. People have moved on, I guess.”

Mateo straightened the string on the box and squinted into the bright morning light. “Yeah, maybe.”

They caught the shuttle, chatting easily on the way back about fine-tuning their finale, then got to work getting ready for the party. After stashing their supplies in the cabin, their first stop was picking up the karaoke machine from Eileen’s.

“Why do you have a karaoke machine here anyway?” Archer asked her as he and Mateo hefted it between them.

Eileen gave him a withering stare. “What do you mean, why? It’s coming in handy right this minute, isn’t it?”

Archer laughed at her wink. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry I asked. We’ll see you tonight!”

They stopped by the theater to snag a couple mic stands from the storage room, then went back to the cabin. Archer set up the karaoke in a corner while Mateo started blowing up balloons. They put up a few colorful bunches around the room and dug in the cupboard for the leftover supplies from Archer’s party.

“When’s your birthday?” Archer asked, as he shook out the polka-dot tablecloth.

“October,” Mateo said, helping him spread it out.

“October what?” Archer asked.

“Why, are you going to show up at my apartment with some balloons?”

“I might,” Archer said with a sideways glance. “Maybe even a cake, if you play your cards right.”

“Hmm.” Mateo pretended to consider. “The twenty-sixth.”

Archer made a show of putting it into his calendar. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll be waiting.”

Archer cleared his throat, suddenly finding the room stifling. To be fair, the AC was struggling to keep up with the heat. “Deal. Now where did we put the rest of the napkins?”

Dominik, of course, was the self-appointed karaoke MC and first to grab the mic. He had paired his Hawaiian shorts and turquoise tank top with a black blazer for the occasion. “Good evening, all you shady queens.” His voice boomed around the room. A bunch of the other employees turned to give him their attention, too. “I’d like to bring up a lady who I know needs no introduction. Birthday girl, get up here!”

He led the crowd in “Happy Birthday to You” as Betty, already a few drinks in, bounced to the front and took the mic from him. “Thank you, Dominik. I’ll be kicking things off tonight with a song that is deeply personal to me.” She nodded at Harley, who had the iPad. “Hit it.”

Archer’s mouth fell open as she began to sing. Betty was a rock star. She absolutely belted her way through “I Love Myself Today” by Bif Naked.

“Girl, you can sing ,” he told her when she was done. “That was awesome.”

“Thanks, Archie. Now your turn!”

He threw his best puppy dog eyes at Mateo. “Are you in? Time for ‘Paradise’?”

Mateo’s gaze flitted around the room, then settled back on Archer. “Sure.”

“Yes!” Archer yelped, a few drinks in himself. “Let’s go.” He gave instructions to Harley, then took Mateo’s hand and pulled him up to the mics.

“I guess you usually do Meat Loaf’s part,” Mateo said. He ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, I’ll be the woman.” Archer grinned. “You always lead, after all. I’ve got this.”

Mateo blew out a breath. “Okay.”

He’s nervous, Archer realized. “Hey… if you don’t want—”

“No, I do.” Mateo smiled. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Archer nodded at Harley.

Archer bopped along to the opening guitar riff, gripping his mic. He’d been so concerned about Mateo he forgot to be nervous himself. Too late now.

Mateo started to sing. His voice was hesitant for the first few notes until Archer smiled at him, nodding. Mateo started tapping the beat on his thigh, and his voice got stronger.

Man, he was a good singer. Archer knew that, of course, but hearing it happen, right here in front of him… He was so enamored he almost missed his first line, but managed to hit it in time.

Mateo’s eyebrows went up and his smile grew as Archer sang. He nodded, impressed, then jumped in with his part again. A change came over Mateo as Archer watched—suddenly, Mateo was the horny teenage boy in the song, desperate to get laid.

Archer relaxed and started to dance. It really was a glorious song, and he decided to throw himself into his love-me-or-else role. It was not a subtle one, after all.

Mateo played off Archer’s energy, channeling Meat Loaf’s wide eyes and hair tossing until they were wailing at each other, music crescendoing around them. They were laughing when they finished, sweaty and out of breath.

The audience cheered for them, hooting and clapping as Archer and Mateo took their seats again.

“That was fun.” Mateo smiled, wiping his brow. “Thanks for getting me up there.”

“That was so good, guys!” Betty whooped. “Archer, you were very convincing as a psycho girlfriend.”

He poked her, grinning. “Thanks, you.”

The room got louder as others took their turn. Betty sang again—“Barracuda” this time—then even Eileen took a turn with “Cecilia.”

Most of them were excellent singers, but no one cared about the ones who weren’t, and everyone joined in for a loud, drunken “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life.”

Betty bounced over as midnight ticked by and dropped onto Archer’s lap. “Will you guys please sing another duet?” she pleaded. “ Please .”

“What did you have in mind?” Archer asked.

She drew an imaginary marquee with her hand. “A big fat Broadway number! Like, we’re talking Andrew Lloyd Webber–big.”

Archer looked at Mateo. “I’m game if you are.”

“What song?” Mateo asked.

“Hmm, lemme see.” Betty stood and reached for the iPad, then scrolled with great concentration. “Ooh! Ooh! Yes! I’ve got it!”

“Which one?” Archer craned his neck.

She hugged the screen to her chest. “No peeking! You’ll find out in a sec.” She shooed them up to the mic. “Sing your little hearts out, boys.”

He shrugged at Mateo. Mateo shrugged back.

The music started. The drunken dancers whistled and hollered.

“Aw, yeah!” Dominik hooted. “Good choice, Betty!”

Archer’s stomach flipped. It was “All I Ask of You” from The Phantom of the Opera , an achingly tender love song.

Mateo rolled his eyes, but grinned at Archer. “I’m Raoul?” he asked.

“Guess that makes me Christine.” Archer sighed.

Mateo winked at him, then he began to sing. The first words poured out, liquid longing, impossibly smooth and aching. He was instantly in character, looking at Archer like he was deeply in love with him.

Archer wasn’t sure if he was going to cry, melt, or explode. Or all three. Mateo’s voice was nothing but heat, warming him from the inside out.

Stomach fizzing and heart thrumming, Archer started his part. Christine was a beautiful, soaring soprano, so Archer brought the melody down an octave. He had to improvise on one line that dropped too low but he didn’t think anyone noticed the wobble.

Mateo stepped closer as his next turn began. His eyes didn’t leave Archer’s throughout the next verse.

Then Archer again. He felt a little braver now, tilting his head, letting his eyes close as the emotion swept over him.

Mateo’s voice soared on the next verse. Goose bumps swept over Archer’s skin, tears prickling the back of his eyes. It was impossibly beautiful. Mateo was impossibly beautiful. The song’s intensity grew, Raoul and Christine getting closer and closer to proclaiming their love for one another.

Archer’s part climbed as the song approached its climax, so he went into a mix of his chest and head voice, his melody sliding over Mateo’s when their voices joined. When Raoul and Christine finally sang about love, Archer’s heart was pounding so fast it was starting to affect his breathing, but he just managed to hold the last note.

As the song faded, the room erupted. Everyone went absolutely nuts.

Archer looked at Mateo, blinking back the tears that he hadn’t noticed had formed, while a feeling washed over him that he’d never felt before, like his skin was too tight and too loose at the same time, barely containing him and about to disintegrate right off his body. Mateo was looking back, eyes shining. A fresh wave of goose bumps stippled Archer’s skin. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down. He wanted to cry. And laugh. And throw his arms around Mateo and fucking kiss him.

But Betty jumped on them first, enveloping them both in a hug. “Holy shit!” she howled. “Holy shit , you guys! That was… that was…” She placed a hand over her heart and shook her head. “That was the best birthday present ever. It was like our own private gay Phantom . Thank you so much!”

Archer swallowed, throat dry. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, wow. You two—” She looked between them. “You two are special.”

Archer clutched the mic stand, room spinning around him.

“Except I think you’ve ruined the party. No one will want to follow that!” she exclaimed.

But Dominik came to the rescue. “I’ve got this,” he drawled. He plucked the mic from Mateo’s hand. “Excuse me, stud . You’re in my way. Spin that shit,” he told Harley.

“I’m Too Sexy” started playing. Dominik strutted around, striking ridiculous poses.

“That checks out.” Archer scratched, still vibrating from adrenaline and… whatever else it was swirling around inside him. “Drink?” he asked Mateo.

Mateo nodded. “Yes, please.” He followed Archer over to the fridge.

Archer rummaged inside, then handed him a bottle of nonalcoholic beer.

Twisting the cap off, Mateo studied him. “So… you can sing, too.”

Archer scoffed. “Not nearly as well as you.”

Mateo laughed. “I don’t know about that. The way you reworked the soprano melody into your own range… It was flawless.”

“Oh—uh—” Archer stammered.

Mateo leaned against the counter. “Thanks for asking me to sing.”

“Are you kidding? Thanks for singing with me.”

“Archer—” Mateo fiddled with his bottle.

“Yeah?”

He paused. “Nothing.” Mateo tapped their drinks together. “Just… thanks.”

Archer took a long pull of cold beer. There were many words spinning through his head and some emotions he couldn’t name. Better keep it simple. He smiled. “You’re welcome.”