Page 56

“If I sing for you, what will you do for me, sweetheart?” I ask, feeling a bit frisky after several tequila shots.

Annie runs her hand over my chest and slips two fingers between my buttons.

She tugs me closer, but before she can give me an answer, Ben screams our names from the stage, where he’s about to sing with Zayd, Mak, and Skyla.

Jaime joins me an d Annie at the table, laughing at the scene the four of them are causing.

He cups a hand around his mouth and yells, “Where did you find a man who can work heels like that, Theo?”

“He was a rescue!” I call back, and Jaime cackles.

As always, Ben takes center stage, jeans rolled up to show off Skyla’s shoes, and leads the entire bar through a rousing chorus of ‘Pink Pony Club’.

When he stumbles back to our table, he plants a long kiss on my lips, snaking one hand up under the back of my shirt.

In the stilettos, he’s now taller than me, but before I can really enjoy it, Annie whirls around and sucker punches a random man standing at the table behind her.

“Shut the fuck up!” she screams. Ben and I exchange a look and go after her, but she doesn’t stop swinging or hurling creative threats, even when Ben grabs her around the waist and hauls her away. The guy pulls himself up, wipes his bloody lip, and looks straight at me.

“Keep that psycho bitch on a leash, you stupid fa–”

I don’t let him finish the sentence. Without thinking, I swing, and my fist connects with his jaw.

He goes down, and two of his buddies start toward me from across the room as the bar descends into chaos.

I duck and rush through the crowd, catch an elbow hard to the face, then spot Ben handing Annie off to Zayd, who pulls her out the door while she spits profanities.

Ben somehow finds me, his eyes alight with mischief, and pushes me against a wall, kissing me hard.

The next thing I know, I’m nursing bruised knuckles and a sore cheekbone on the curb outside while a cop breathes down our necks.

“Ya know, Father Ben,” she says, handing his ID back to him with a chuckle, “it was only a few months ago that I said the next time I found you involved in a bar fight, I was gonna let you cool your heels in the drunk tank.”

“Awh, come on, Maddie,” says Ben, giving her a winning smile.

“My hand to God, I didn’t even start this one.

” His charm saves the day, and we’re let go with a warning.

When we finally get a chance to ask Annie what set her off, she just mumbles something about ‘vile, bigoted worms’ and tells us to take her home.

The following Friday afternoon, Ben excitedly lets me know that he found somewhere I’m going to love, but says it’s a surprise.

He leaves me and Annie in the apartment, and I don’t hear from anyone until Mak and Skyla show up at my door a few hours later–wearing pink cowgirl hats.

They tell me to put on my ‘hillbilly clothes’, so I dig out the Wranglers I used to wear to take Ros line dancing in our hometown, then pull my old boots from the closet.

“What should I wear?” Annie asks me.

“Well, I don’t know where we’re heading, but…

given what they told me to wear, how about something like this?

” I look up a photo of Dolly Parton wearing a pink and white outfit with long fringes.

Annie claps her hands excitedly and recreates it almost perfectly, while making it slightly more revealing.

It’s all I can do not to kick Mak and Skyla out and rip the outfit off her.

In her car, Mak has another neon pink cowboy hat waiting for me, but she also has a blindfold and won’t tell me where we’re going.

When we finally stop, she helps me out of the passenger seat, and I feel Annie’s warm hand take mine, then they pull the blindfold off.

We’re outside a tragically rickety-looking tin and wood building with a flickering neon sign across the front that says ‘8 Second Ride’.

I look around, trying to get my bearings, and spot Ben standing out front with Zayd and Jaime.

They’re all wearing cowboy hats and boots too.

Zayd’s jeans are cut off above his knees and he’s sporting a white crop-top that says ‘Thank God I’m a cunt-ry boy’, which makes me laugh out loud.

Ben stands beside him, wearing a red pearl snap shirt–open halfway down his chest–with the sleeves rolled above his elbows.

There’s a rainbow bandana tied around his hat, and he’s also found a large, tacky belt buckle featuring a rooster.

He looks out of his element, but also extremely hot.

As we approach the building, he greets Annie and then me with a sweet kiss, which is interrupted by Zayd’s good-natured jeering.

“Alright, God, we get it! You’re so fucking cute!”

“What is this?” I ask Ben softly, while Mak and Skyla pull Annie into the bar with them.

“Well, I wanted us to be somewhere a bit safer, and I know how much you love your hillbilly bullshit, so…” He pulls me over to the window and points. The interior walls are lined with every single Pride flag imaginable, and there’s another sign above the bar.

I let out a long breath. “Ben…this is amazing. I’ve never even heard about this place. Did you know it was here?”

“Nah,” he says, tucking his hand into my back pocket and pulling me toward the door, “but Jaime helped me find it. Come on. I want to see your face when you see that I know how to Texas two-step.”

“You do not!” I gasp, handing my ID to the bouncer at the front.

“I told you before, nobody grows up where I did without learning that shit,” Ben replies, and I realize that I’ve never actually asked about where he grew up. He doesn’t like to talk about his family or childhood, so I’ve just avoided the topic. Maybe this would be a good time for me to learn.

We find Annie and my friends standing around a tall table, shots of Fireball already in hand.

Annie is practically glowing, and I make a mental note to request a specific song for her and Ben to dance to later.

We all take our shots, then Zayd pulls Jaime away to find them both dance partners.

Mak and Skyla, meanwhile, settle into a booth nearby, where they will undoubtedly spend the entire evening making out and avoiding the dance floor at all costs.

Annie sits with them, and Mak starts explaining all the different Pride flags hanging on the walls to her.

“Alright,” I say, turning to Ben and grinning, “let’s see those two-step skills now, cowboy.

” He raises his eyebrows and grabs m y hand as a new song starts, pulling me out onto the dance floor.

We’re so close that there’s no air between our bodies, and I press my cheek into his neck, relaxing into the rhythm of the music as we move into the circle of other couples.

He really is as good as he said, so I let him lead while I just breathe in the way he smells tonight–Aqua Velva and a hint of Fireball.

“Happy, osito ?” he murmurs.

“Incandescent,” I reply.

Ben just laughs. “I don’t know what the fuck that means, but you look happy, and I could definitely get used to the cowboy outfit.” He slides his hand into my back pocket again and squeezes.

“I am happy,” I tell him, “and I’m not opposed to the outfit either.”

“We’ll see how you feel when you have to figure out how to get this damn belt buckle off me later,” Ben says, voice low and husky, grazing my jaw with his lips.

I look him in the eye and cup his face with one hand. “ You make me happy, Ben.”

He covers my hand with his own and his eyes squeeze shut briefly. We continue dancing in comfortable silence, cheeks pressed together as he—almost absentmindedly—sings ‘Your Man’ into my ear. I think it might be the best moment of my entire life.

When we get home around 1am, Annie tells us she’s tired and curls up on the couch with Rex.

She’s been sleeping a few hours in the bed with us every night, but still spends a lot of time in the liv ing room, watching movies with her new best friend.

Ben drops his cowboy hat on the counter and starts building her a little blanket nest, but I have to walk away and take a few deep breaths in the hall.

After such a great night, my emotions are getting the better of me.

Once Annie is settled, Ben follows me and puts a hand on my arm.

“Everything alright?”

Something about the way he looks right now–the unbuttoned shirt and his dark curls sticking to his forehead–makes me completely feral.

I grab his ridiculous belt buckle and yank him closer, trapping myself between his body and the wall.

He smells like sweat, whiskey, and cheap beer now, but I still crush my mouth against his and tangle my fingers through his hair as he braces both hands behind me.

“Everything’s perfect,” I breathe, “except for the fact that I’m not inside you right now.”

Ben lets out a heady groan and grips the back of my neck hard.

“Careful what you wish for, Saint Theo,” he mutters, then tightens his hold and pushes me ahead of him down the hall to the bedroom.

He shuts the door and then suddenly, I’m falling back onto the bed with him on top of me, straddling my legs, his hands shaking a little as they pop open the snaps on my shirt and run over my chest.

“Hey, easy,” I tell him, wrapping my hand around his. “We can go slow.”

Ben leans in and scrapes his teeth across my neck, then whispers, “I don’t do slow. Not when I’ve been waiting weeks for you to fuck me, Theo.”

And there goes the last of my restraint, crumpled up on the floor like the pile of clothes we quickly create.

When our bodies collide again, just skin against skin, it feels like an electric shock.

We haven’t done this yet, just the two of us, and my breath hitches at the tiny flare of anxiety in my chest. Ben stops kissing me and his hands drift up to my face .

“Please, don’t stop,” he begs, brushing a thumb over my lips.