Chapter Thirty-Two

My stomach knots in anxiety as Mark offers his hand. We were late arriving to the hall; everyone is already dancing, spinning their way around the dance floor, and Mark is clearly ready for us to join them. His posture is relaxed, his palm waiting patiently in the air for me to find my courage and take it. I'm not sure I find my courage, but Mark is handsome, everyone is dancing, and I don't want to be sitting on the sidelines. I want us to join them too.

I step forward, taking his hand. I focus on remembering what I learned at the dance lessons only a few days ago…what was that again? As I begin to panic, I realise that I'm moving. There's a step and a spin and nobody crashes into anybody else. Mark is warm and solid under my grip, and I blink, seeing that I'm crushing the collar of his green waistcoat in a fist. The one that he picked out because it matched my eyes.

I relax that crushing grip and raise my eyes from Mark's chest to his face. He's focused on me. Not worried, but watchful. Waiting for me to figure things out. Giving me the chance to do that before offering for us to sit this one out.

"I'm good now," I tell him.

Mark smiles reassuringly. "I figured you'd get a bit of stage fright dancing with me in front of so many people."

Oh . I blink. Mark misunderstood. He thought I was shy, not worrying about how I'd manage with my prosthetic. I relax further, following Mark's expert lead, enjoying the live band playing on a raised stage right next to the floor. Enjoying being guided around the hall.

"I feel like we're being watched," I say, noticing pale faces following us as Mark leads us through a corner.

"Oh, I'm sure," Mark says, sounding amused. "They're wondering why I rocked up late again this year, most likely. Wondering who the pretty boy in my arms is."

"You made us late," I grumble, growing antsy at the "pretty boy" comment.

" I made us late?" Mark challenges. "I pulled over so I could suck your cock. You're the one who wanted to be mounted."

"Mark," I die, and he laughs. Mark steps back, still laughing. He slides his grip and makes me spin, and his dark eyes are filled with merriment as I turn to give him my best dirty look. Back in his arms, I end up caving and matching his smile.

"It was pretty hot," I admit, keeping my voice low so nobody overhears. The actual fucking was pretty quick, even that second round. The problem was we both fell into a near coma right after and didn't move for a long while. So long that I feel funny down there…like I'm still being pierced open.

"You know," Mark draws me to his front, abandoning the hold he had on my hand for my waist again. He plants a hand on the small of my back and I tilt back my head to keep eye contact. "You've been in good form all day."

I know exactly what Mark is getting at. He's been teasing and provocative, and it's not overwhelmed me once—even in front of an audience. I haven't had to fight down the instinct to snap at him or want to storm off because my emotions got too much for my mind to make sense of.

"In a weird way, Ronan coming back…he's stopped being this awful monster in my head, and instead I can see he's just a person. An awful person, but not someone who can hurt me. And, I don't know." I shrug. "I've stopped being scared. It probably sounds silly to say I was scared of being gay, but I was. I was taught that it was a horrible thing through experience." I flatten my hands on Mark's chest and rise onto my toes to plant a soft kiss on his lovely mouth. "And now I've gotten to see that it can be a pretty damn good experience, too."

Mark's arms tighten as I sink back on my heels and he draws me into a tight embrace as the song comes to an end. "Kyle," he murmurs into my hair. "I am so glad I saw you slip on the ice that day. And that you let me worm my way into your life."

"Worm?" I laugh.

Mark is still hugging me tight. "I don't like that you had to see that man ever again, but I'm glad you're able to see him for what he is now. And…" he kisses my ear. "Let's forget the party. I just want to curl up in bed with you."

"We can curl up in bed later," I promise. "For now, let's stay. I want to thank Damien."

I pull away from Mark. "I'm pretty sure that's him glaring at us over there."

Couples break away from the dance floor and others take their place as the band jumps into a quicker-paced song. Mark turns his head, glancing at where Damien is staring right at him. Mark turns away with a shrug and snags my hand, pulling me in the opposite direction. I object with a laugh, but Mark pulls me to a buffet table where everyone else is gathered. Sebastian sets up cups into a pyramid shape, Bethany is gorgeous and all smiles at Eddie's side, and Tommy is toying with a small white ball.

"Beer-pong?" Mark asks as we join them all.

"This is a high-class party. It's champagne-pong," Sebastian corrects. "You in?"

"Degenerate," Mark says fondly. "Your dad watching?"

"And my mom, and my evil sisters," Sebastian confirms.

Mark chuckles as he breaks away from Kyle. "I'll set up the other side."

I drift to Bethany as Eddie steps up to the table to help. "Are we going to get kicked out? You look amazing, by the way."

"You two both looked amazing dancing out there," Bethany says back with a warm smile. "Happy to see you comfortable again," she adds. "I feel like it was only a few weeks ago you wouldn't move from the spot at my house party."

"Really? Feels like the opposite for me. Feels like that was forever ago," I say. At her party I could barely breathe; I was so self-conscious of standing funny, of people looking at me strangely. But now, here, it was hardly a passing thought. Something I'm aware of, but not something I needed to worry and stress about. "How is it not having to sneak around behind everyone's backs with Eddie?"

Bethany rolled her eyes. "I never snuck around. Everyone is just so dense they never noticed."

"Mark noticed."

"Because I'd sleep at their apartment every other night. If he didn't notice, I'd wonder if he had a brain at all behind those eyes." Bethany nods to the cups. "You in?"

I shake my head. "Happy to have a drink or two, but stumbling around drunk is a sure way I'll end up sore in the morning."

Bethany grins. "That's the same for all of us. Seb, me, and you against these three tanks."

Sebastian nods. "We'll crush them."

Said three tanks look more than ready to take up the challenge.

I laugh when Bethany and Seb destroy them, as promised.

Mark breaks away with a groan after a crushing defeat, and snags my hand without preamble, bringing me straight to the dance floor in the middle of something fast and quick. People are jiving, which I've never done in my life, but Mark has me taught in no time at all, and it feels reckless the way he twirls me hard, only to catch me roughly before I spin out. Out of breath, I fall against his chest as the song mercifully comes to an end.

"You're drunk!" I pant.

"I'm not drunk. I love you. And I'm getting that feeling where you want to squeeze cute things enough to hurt them." Mark's fingers dig into my hips. He bends down, champagne in his breath as he kisses my cheek. "Or like, when you want to just throw someone around."

The I love you echoes in my head. I stare up at Mark, mind stalling out. He kisses my cheek again. "I want to pinch your ass, turn that pale skin red. Actually, I want to pinch your balls, just enough to hurt a little, and then squeeze your cock."

"Mark , " I hiss, perturbed and aroused.

Mark chuckles. "I love the way you say my name, all exasperated like that, even with your cock plumping up. Mhm, I can feel you against my thigh, babe."

"Mark. Kyle," a familiar voice interrupts Mark's maddening voice right against my ear.

I turn from Mark to see Damien standing there, tall and regal. He glares at Mark, then turns a smile toward me. "I'm Damien, Mark's brother. It's lovely to meet you, Kyle. We have food about to be served at the table if you'd like to join us? I noticed you both went straight to dancing…and drinking. Drinking on an empty stomach can be—"

"Are you seriously about to lecture me?" Mark asks. He crowds me as he speaks, draping his arm over my shoulder, tugging me against his side.

Damien swallows down whatever lecture I'm sure he was about to give Mark. "Of course not," he smiles. "The rest of your friends have already sat down to eat. Even if you're not hungry, I'm sure your boyfriend is."

Mark tugs me. "Let's go," he says to me.

"Starch is ideal for when you're drinking," Damien falls into step with us. "Make sure you eat plenty of the mashed potatoes. And be sure to drink water. You'll be hungover tomorrow otherwise."

"Damien, leave me alone," Mark says without emotion. "I'm twenty-one, not a kid."

Damien huffs. "Say that to me before you down cups of champagne like it's water. I'm glad at least your boyfriend is sensible."

Mark practically chases Damien away from our table when he tries to sit with us for dinner. He ignores my gaze for a solid five minutes before casting me a sidelong glance. "What?" he grumbles.

"You're being mean," I tell him.

Sebastian laughs from my other side.

"If I give even an inch with Damien, he'll be trying to move into my apartment," Mark tells me seriously.

I don't comment further, but I do notice Mark eats his potatoes and finishes his water. Many people come up and greet Mark and Sebastian, and Mark introduces me as his boyfriend to every single person who comes near the table. As the last couple who engaged me in conversation after the introduction breaks away, I lean into Mark. "I'm at my limit," I warn him. I'm well past getting nervous about being acknowledged as Mark's boyfriend, but my social batteries are running out. "Come with me a minute."

Mark easily stands, and I take his hand.