Finding Your Feet

by Cass Lennox

  “Aaand we’ll wait for you here,” Evie said, pushing Tyler towards the bar.

  Tyler ducked away and went to Gigi and Sarah, rubbing at his face as he went. They met him with huge grins. Gigi lunged forward and hugged him tightly.

  “Congrats!” he cried.

  “For what?” Tyler asked, thoroughly confused.

  “We saw you two out there.” Sarah jumped in place, then hugged both of them. “I knew you liked her!”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist those thighs,” Gigi added triumphantly.

  Wow. Just wow. With friends like these . . . Tyler didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Yeah, yeah, you got me. I like her, she likes me, we all like each other. It’s all good. Come dance with us.”

  “Where is she?” Sarah craned to get a glimpse of Evie.

  “Washroom.” He coaxed them both onto the dance floor and tried to get them into a spot Evie and Brock could work towards, keeping Gigi facing him as much as possible. Soon Evie’s arms entwined themselves around Tyler’s middle, and he felt her chin rest on his shoulder. The act sent a weird rush of warmth through him, but before he could think that response through, he saw Brock press up against Gigi’s back. Gigi froze, his eyes wide. Tyler held his breath as his friend somehow realized exactly who was behind him.

  Gigi spun and took a step away from Brock, scowling. Tyler angled closer so he could see Gigi’s face; he didn’t want to miss this at all. Brock’s expression was intense under the dance floor lights, and he leaned close to Gigi and shouted something to him. Gigi tossed his head as he replied, making Brock half smile. Gigi stared him down as Brock pressed a tentative, quick kiss to Gigi’s mouth. Tyler couldn’t help grinning, because Gi had this expression on his face that said he wasn’t buying what Brock was selling, but his hands had latched on to Brock’s shirt apparently without him noticing. When he did notice, Gigi dropped the act, bit his own lip, then yanked Brock towards him. Brock’s arms encircled him as they locked faces.

  Look at that, Brock got his man.

  Sarah tugged Tyler’s arm. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

  Hell yeah. Tyler was happy for him, but watching his friend make out was too much. Tyler took Evie’s hand in his, and they trailed after Sarah a little way into the crowd, but not so far they lost sight of Gigi and Brock.

  Evie faced them both and grinned devilishly. “Perfect!”

  Tyler hoped so. That had looked promising, but he didn’t like the idea of a morning call from a hungover and regretful Gigi tomorrow. Hopefully Brock wouldn’t hurt his friend again.

  Sarah pulled the three of them together. “Let’s dance!”

  And dance they did. It wasn’t anything elegant, but bopping along wasn’t ever supposed to be. He had to remind himself to just let loose and move, because this wasn’t a job and he wasn’t being judged, and it was a shame it had been so long he needed the reminder. The crowd around them got progressively more drunk and grabby. Tyler was fairly sure some of the brushes against his ass were intentional. He kept glancing over at Gigi and Brock until they were no longer in the crowd. He checked his phone to see texts.

  Gigi: Gone home.

  Gigi: Take E home tonight too ;)

  His friend, Gigi Rosenberg: subtle as a brick.

  And it was 2 a.m. When had that happened?

  He looked up to see Sarah and Evie talking to a guy in tight clothes. Who the heck? The guy looked vaguely familiar— Wait, those were deck shoes. Leather deck shoes. Evie hugged him and Tyler had to throttle the instant pang of jealousy. Sarah caught his eye and raised her eyebrows.

  Evie took his hand and pulled him towards the guy. “This is Vaughn,” she shouted over the music.

  Tyler made himself smile and wave. Vaughn looked like six feet of sex in leather, and Tyler didn’t even go for guys. Vaughn smiled cheerily. “I saw you dancing up there. You’re very good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you do performances in art spaces? I’ve been trying to get my gallery noticed as a venue for performance-based pieces and perhaps you’d be interested in helping me promote that.” Vaughn handed him a business card, which Tyler blinked at. “Interpretive, free-form, that kind of stuff.”

  “Yeah,” he said, surprised. “I do interpretive dance.”

  “What are you doing here?” Evie asked Vaughn.

  He thumbed behind him at a group of people near the bar. “Came with friends. I love Aqua.”

  Was this guy for real? Came here for Aqua and owned leather deck shoes and handed out business cards like it was nothing?

  Vaughn patted Evie’s shoulder and Tyler’s palms itched. “I saw the video of you. The one on YouTube. Nice moves.” He glanced at her dress and gasped. “Wait, wait, wait. Does your dress have pockets?”

  Evie beamed and held her dress out. “Yes! Amazing, right?”

  And now he felt like an idiot because whatever else Vaughn was into, women wasn’t one of them. He was queening like a wealthy version of Gigi. As if to emphasize the point, a shorter guy joined them and planted a kiss on Vaughn’s cheek. The shorter one spoke into Vaughn’s ear, causing Vaughn to grin, then wind his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and kiss his hair.

  Yeah. Sweet. Tyler still wanted to rip Evie away from the guy because strictly speaking Vaughn wasn’t into men either, and come on, Tyler was the one who needed to compliment her on good dress choices and make her smile.

  Jesus. What was wrong with him? Could he actually kick himself for being jealous? Because he needed to. No, wait, not jealous, he couldn’t be jealous of a casual thing. He just jumped to conclusions, that’s right—

  Sarah was gone. He looked around and saw her walking in the direction of the exit. As Vaughn continued to gasp over Evie’s dress, Tyler chased after Sarah, catching her arm near the cloakroom.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  She looked back at him, confused. “Home. It’s 2 a.m.”

  “And you’re leaving Evie here? Alone?”

  She blinked. “Are you serious? You’re here. The way you were looking at her, I was certain you and Evie would be a sure thing.”

  Things clicked into place. Why Gigi had brought them here. His and Sarah’s behaviour over the last week. Their behaviour tonight.

  They’d been set up.

  There he and Evie were, thinking they’d set Gigi up with Brock—and they had—but Gigi and Sarah had set him and Evie up.

  Or were trying to.

  He shook his head. “Sarah, it’s not like that. We’re not like that. Don’t leave her stranded at some club.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean? Have you seen the way she looks at you? Tyler, if you asked her home, she’d go with you in a hot minute.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. Sarah, trust me on this. If you leave her behind, I’m getting her a taxi back to your place and charging you for it.”

  Her face cleared. “Tyler. Oh my God, Tyler. You gentleman.”

  He scowled. “Sarah—”

  “Are you still the Tyler I met at Queersoc? The one who was the king of casual hookups?”

  He waved his hand to dismiss that old version of himself. He didn’t do casual hookups like that, not anymore and not in a long time. Even if he did feel up for it, Evie wasn’t some curious queer chick wanting a transgender adventure for one night, and he was long over being someone else’s interesting sex story. “No, I’m not. And I’m not going to seduce her back to my apartment. She doesn’t want that. It’s not about that. Think about her. She’s a visitor staying with you. Don’t just leave her with relative strangers in a strange city.”

  Sarah now looked confused. “You have a point, but, Ty, it’s not like—”

  “Guys, where are you going?” Evie asked behind them.

  They turned to look at her. She blinked at them, beautiful in glitter and tipsy confusion. Even if she was looking for a lay like the rest of the crowd in here, Tyler knew he wouldn’t pursue that with her. No, she needed to be home
and in bed. Safe.

  He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “We’re deciding when to go home.”

  “Oh. Now?”

  “I have work tomorrow,” Sarah said.

  Evie checked her phone. “Yikes.”

  A sly grin unfolded on Sarah’s face. “Hey, Tyler, why don’t you crash at our place tonight?”

  Evie’s hand jerked in his. Hmm.

  “I don’t think that’s a great idea.” He didn’t want to get a cab on his own—the fare was always freaking extortionate—but if Evie didn’t want him there, he couldn’t say yes.

  “You can sleep on the spare sofa,” Sarah said, turning serious now. “Evie’s on the sofa bed, but she can cuddle in with me if you want a proper bed to sleep on.”

  Evie’s hand relaxed a little.

  “Would that be a problem?” he asked, hedging his bets.

  “No.” Sarah yawned. “Plus, I’d rather split a taxi fare three ways than two.”

  “Evie?”

  “That’s okay,” she said.

  “Let me grab my stuff.”

  They all wilted in the taxi home. By the time they pulled up outside of Sarah and Bailey’s place, Tyler was ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. They tiptoed in, whispering to avoid waking Bailey. While Sarah made the other sofa up for him, Tyler went to the kitchen and poured out glasses of water for everyone. Evie’s was a pint.

  She came into the kitchen, freshly showered. Glitter still sparkled in her hair, but she’d washed most of it off her skin. “Oh,” she said, as though not expecting to find him here.

  He held the pint glass out to her. “Drink.”

  A sly smile curved her mouth. “I didn’t drink that much.”

  “Don’t care. Do it.”

  She took the pint glass and gulped deeply.

  “Are you sharing with Sarah tonight?” he asked.

  She swallowed. “I . . . don’t know.”

  A thick pause filled the space between them. Tyler picked up a glass of water and stared at it. “I’ll crash as soon as I lie down,” he said. “In case you’re wondering. So you can use the sofa bed like normal. If you want to.”

  “Do you want privacy?”

  “Huh?”

  She was looking at her feet, her cheeks red. “You should take the sofa bed. Sleep properly. By yourself, if you want. I don’t know how you feel sleeping in the same space as someone else, but if you want privacy for whatever reason, I’ll move into Sarah’s room for the night.”

  A lump filled his throat. “That’s not . . . No. I don’t. Need that. Not that kind of privacy, that is. Not with you and Sarah and Bay. That’s—” He took a deep breath. “I’m asking because of what we talked about. You should sleep in your bed. And not worry. I’ll stay in mine and you’ll be in yours, okay?”

  This time, she was the one who had trouble speaking. “Oh. Oh. Right.”

  “Thank you, though.” His voice held a slight tremble. He sipped some water. “Thanks for thinking about that.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Likewise. Thank you.”

  Sarah breezed into the kitchen. “Sofa’s done! No naughty stuff, you two.” She picked up the remaining glass of water and drained it. “I’m using the bathroom next. You know where everything is, Ty.” She walked out.

  “Damn it, I need to shower,” Tyler grumbled.

  Evie chuckled, then put her empty glass down. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Wait.” He took the glass and refilled it. “Another.”

  She glared at him. “I went to university in London. I live in York. I’ve recovered from worse nights on the lash with Lucozade and a bag of Maltesers.”

  “I don’t know what you just said to me, but I do know I really want you to drink this water.”

  She huffed, downed the pint in one go, then pressed the glass back into his hand. “There you go, Dad.”

  “Sleep well.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then walked out of the kitchen. His chest swelled with emotion. That had been simple. So simple. Was this what it could be like? Asking questions and answering honestly and teasing each other and none of it being a big deal?

  Sarah’s head ducked around the kitchen door. “Hey. Bathroom’s free.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for letting me stay.”

  “Never a problem.” She winked at him. “I won’t say a thing if I find you two cuddled together tomorrow morning.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Good night, Sarah.”

  She drifted to bed too, and he showered, tiredness making his limbs heavy. He hit the lights as he stumbled back into the living room, found his way to the sofa past a sleeping Evie, and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Evie woke up abruptly. She blinked at the ceiling, gauging the slow creep of light in the room as very early. She couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. Her bladder was yelling at her. Tyler and his fucking two pints of water.

  Wait. Tyler?

  The previous evening flashed back to her: the drinks, the dancing, the terrible tribute band, realizing that Tyler was one of the incredible dancers on the stage, realizing Gigi and Sarah had set her up, setting Gigi up, bumping into Vaughn and his boyfriend, kissing Tyler in the middle of the dance floor . . .

  She smiled. That had been fun. They’d come home and—

  Oh. He was here. He was sleeping on the other sofa. In the same room. She could hear him breathing. She looked over. There he was, curled under a blanket, completely asleep. The awkwardness of the conversation that had led to this was drowned out by the warmth of knowing he was okay with her being here. He felt comfortable. That felt immense.

  Her phone vibrated. She turned over carefully and picked it up. There was an old text from Gigi and an email from her mother. The text read: Gone home. Yes, with Brock. She’d figured as much.

  She turned to the email.

  Darling, Richard called and said you hadn’t spoken to him. Really, what are you doing over there that you can’t spare a few minutes to say hello to your brother? We had a lovely chat and he’s bringing Helena for tea today. I’m sorry you can’t make it this time around. We’ll have to do it again when you’re back. I think they’re getting serious now, so you should make the effort to know her. The vet finally got back to us about Shep. Turns out the dear old doggy has stomach cancer, and it’s too far gone for any treatment to have an effect. We’re having him put down on Monday. It’s the kindest thing, and we’re all terribly upset. Don’t worry, darling, it’s for the best and he’s had a lovely long life. My tart has been devoured by the neighbours. I’ll bake another one for your return. When’s the return date again? Looking forward to seeing you. Doug sends his love.

  Unexpected cold seared through Evie. She reread the message, then put her phone down on the mattress and curled up tightly, bladder be damned. Monday. She was flying back on Tuesday, arriving Wednesday morning. Couldn’t they wait a few more days?

  She picked her phone back up to respond: Oh no! Poor Shep. Can you wait until Wednesday? I want to say good-bye to him.

  Ten minutes later, a response arrived. No, darling, we’ve already made the appointment and he’s in pain. It’s a little selfish to prolong that, don’t you think? But don’t worry, we’ll hold a lovely funeral for when you’re back. I’ll make the tart. Hugs and kisses.

  Evie turned her phone off. She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom as quietly as she could. Once she’d relieved her bladder, she splashed her face with water. That didn’t make her feel any better. She didn’t feel anything at all. She stared at herself in the mirror. Dark circles in a pale face.

  What was she doing here? In an unfamiliar bathroom, in a strange house, in a different country, five time zones away from home? Why was she here instead of in the places she knew? Why was she even awake right now?

  A soft knock sounded at the door.

  She opened it to find a tousled, sleepy Tyler. He leaned against the frame, wearing nothing but boxers, hai
r curling freely around his head.

  “You okay?” he asked in a low voice.

  She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She closed it. Looked him over again because she wasn’t used to seeing him without clothes on like this. The lean, tight body. The muscles. The scars swooping along his rib cage, only slightly darker than the surrounding skin tone. Her head was fuzzy from the interrupted sleep and news about her childhood pet, and it was somehow easier to just stare at him. He looked good. Much too good for having been disturbed after a late night. A small part of her might have been embarrassed at waking him, but that part was drowned out by what she was realizing was her shock over Shep.

  “Evie?”

  She swallowed and forced the words out. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  He crossed his arms and stifled a yawn. “You didn’t wake me. Your phone did.”

  “I’m sorry my phone woke you.”

  Now he frowned. “Evie. You look like, I don’t know, like someone stole your wallet or something. What happened?”

  The words tumbled out of her. “My dog is sick. My parents are putting him down. They’re not waiting for me to come back before they do it. I don’t know—” She forced herself to stop before she continued the sentence: I don’t know what to do because I want him to live until I get back so I can say good-bye properly and my mother doesn’t seem to care.

  Tyler’s face softened. “I’m sorry Evie.”

  She took a deep, shaky breath. “G-go back to bed. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

  “You trying to convince me or yourself?”

  He said it kindly, which was what did it. A wave of hurt and grief finally crashed down on her, completely swamping her. Her stupid family and her stupid pet and her stupid decision to be here right now—all of it hurt so, so much, and she covered her eyes as she started to cry. Strong arms came around her, and she let herself sag against him.

  He rocked her gently and didn’t say anything except, “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t okay. But the words got through her overloaded head, and eventually she recovered enough to take her hands away and wipe at her tears instead of catching them. Tyler let her go, but stayed close, his hands rubbing her back soothingly.