Finding Your Feet

by Cass Lennox

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m such a mess.” She noticed how wet his shoulder was. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Because dowsing your crush’s shoulder was completely endearing rather than intensely pathetic. “Oh God, I’ve cried on you.”

  “It’s all good. Talk to me. When are your parents are putting him down?”

  Her throat closed up. “Two days before I arrive. I asked if they could wait so I could say good-bye, and they said no. It’s stupid, it’s so stupid, because he’s in pain and I want him to be out of pain because he’s such a good dog, Ty; he’s the best, and I should focus on that, not on how selfish I’m being by running around making a new life on the other side of the fucking ocean, away from my family—”

  “Shhh. You’re not stupid.” He reached over and grabbed toilet paper. He started dabbing at her face with a large bundle, making her smile despite herself. “You’re upset. It’s different.”

  “I’ll be all right in a sec,” she managed through paper blots. “It’s not the end of the world. He’s—he’s just a—a . . .”

  “Don’t say that. If he was ‘just a dog,’ you wouldn’t be crying in your friend’s bathroom.” He patted his shoulder, drying where she’d wept all over it. “We had a dog when we were younger. Man, we loved that puppy. My parents split up, my dad took off, and money became tight, so my mom gave him up. It was better for him, because we really struggled and couldn’t look after him. We all cried the day he left us, even my big brother, Darrell.”

  That sounded awful. Even though Shep was dying, at least she’d had almost two decades with him. She couldn’t imagine having him, then being forced to give him up and live knowing he was being looked after by some other family. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It happened. We were sad. And after some time, we weren’t as sad anymore.” He threw the paper into the trash can. “So I get it. You feeling better?”

  She nodded, even though there was a new hollowness inside her. He took her hand and led her back to the living room. Once there, he urged her back into bed and sat next to her, brushing his fingers through her hair.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, the movement soothing her.

  Tyler’s smile was a little pained. “What was I going to do, tell you to get over it?”

  “You could have.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not a complete asshole.”

  “No,” she agreed. “Not completely.”

  He nodded sagely. “See, there’s the Evie we all know and love.”

  She managed a laugh. He kept stroking her hair.

  “This might be a dumb question,” he said quietly, “but why was she messaging you at whatever time this is?”

  Evie shrugged. “Time zones. In fairness, I normally would’ve read it in the morning, not now. I wasn’t sleeping well tonight.”

  “Sure.” His fingers felt wonderful against her head. “I still have issues with the timing of this shit though. She knows when you’re going back, right? I get that your dog’s in pain, but I don’t see how one or two days would make a difference. You’re really upset now and it’s stupid early.”

  Evie didn’t know what to say to that. She felt tears start up again, and she turned her face into the pillow to hide them. “That’s just the way she is.”

  “Can I see what she said?”

  Evie dug out her phone, turned it back on, and passed it to him. He didn’t say anything as he read their conversation. He passed the phone back to her, then pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “I don’t know your mom, but if I was going to break news like that to my kid, I’d at least wait a few hours until she was awake.”

  She shrugged again.

  “Plus, you mentioned your arrival date like three times in earlier messages, so I don’t know why she’s asking that again.”

  Irritation started overshadowing the hollowness. “She pays attention when she wants to.” Evie’s voice was a little sharper than she’d intended. “Let’s not.”

  “Not what?”

  “Stay up discussing her.”

  Tyler’s fingers stilled in her hair. “Why not?”

  Evie struggled to articulate it, finally saying, “She’s not worth the lost sleep. Can we go back to bed? I’m fine now.”

  “You sound mad.”

  At that, her irritability deflated. “I’m not angry.” That wasn’t quite the truth. “All right, I am, but not at you. At her. You’re right, she could have been more considerate. Here’s the thing: my mother is not considerate, and she never has been, and I can’t change that, so there’s no point in discussing it.”

  His fingers started moving again. She looked up at him. His face was clouded. “I dunno. I agree you can’t change her, but you can change what you say in response to her. Because the Evie in those messages isn’t the Evie I’ve been dancing with this past week. Instead of being so nice to her all the time, maybe you could be like, ‘Yo, Mom, I was asleep because I’m in Canada and couldn’t this have waited four hours? And did you read my other messages at all? Also, cancel the appointment and reschedule, because I wanna fucking say good-bye to my dog and this we already booked it shit doesn’t fly.’”

  Evie stared at him. God love him, he was serious. She could just imagine Rowena choking at a response like that. Her mouth quirked in a smile. “‘Yo, Mom’?”

  Tyler grinned. “It’s a work in progress.”

  “She’d have kittens.”

  “Well, if a dog’s no longer an option . . .”

  Unbelievable. The cheek. Evie gasped, then started laughing despite her shock. “You’re terrible! Too soon!”

  After a moment, Tyler joined in. Her eyes went to his torso, to the way his muscles contracted as he tried to laugh quietly. When she looked at his face again, he’d sobered. Apparently he’d noticed where her gaze had gone.

  “Do the scars freak you out?”

  “No,” she said honestly. “I wasn’t looking at them. I was watching the way you laughed.”

  Confusion flickered across his face. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled his hand away from her and rested it in his lap. Evie didn’t like the expression on his face. She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “I see that they’re there. They don’t bother me. I’ve seen scars before.”

  “Scars like these or others?”

  “One of my ex-girlfriends had scars. Not like yours,” she added, “but they were very much there and part of her. I’m used to seeing scars.”

  He averted his eyes. “You didn’t seem surprised when I said I was trans in that interview with Katie.”

  Evie frowned and pushed herself into a sitting position. His body had curled in on itself slightly. What was he really saying? “I was surprised,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t a bad surprise. I initially read you as male. Finding out you’re transgender didn’t and doesn’t make you less male.”

  “How are you so okay with me?” His voice was low and hoarse, and his gaze was fixed on the floor. Evie felt another ache join the one created by her mother and Shep. Had he been worrying about that all this time?

  “What do you mean? You’re you.” She squeezed his hand. “I said I like you. I knew you were transgender when I said that. Why wouldn’t I be okay with you?”

  “That’s not usually how these things go,” he said thickly.

  “Romantically, you mean?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know what you’ve gone through because of being trans,” she said carefully, “but I know what it’s like for people to hear a label and make snap assumptions.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” The skin around his eyes was tense with pain. Evie wanted to reach out and smooth it down, soothe him the way he’d soothed her. “I will always be a transgender man. Inside and . . . and outside.”

  Ah. That old chestnut, of certain parts being certain parts. Evie had never understood what the big deal was about who had what or whether one body part was more attractive than
another. She didn’t get it because, to her, it just didn’t matter. So she shrugged. “I’ve dated lots of different bodies. I like yours because it’s yours.”

  “Yeah, but this won’t ever go away.”

  She took his hand again. “Why should it? As long as you’re okay with you, I’m okay with you. Tyler . . . you’re more than your gender, and I’m sure you know that. You’re kind and patient, even when you’re grumpy or hungover as hell—”

  He snorted.

  “—and you’re smart and disciplined and passionate, and I can’t even begin to describe the way you dance.” Honestly, where had this come from? Was this from general insecurity or the ex? She was tempted to say the ex, but perhaps it was both. “You let me cry like an idiot at stupid o’clock in the morning over my dog. I think you’re amazing.” Her voice cracked, already strained from crying earlier.

  Why couldn’t he see himself like that? Didn’t he know what a gift he’d just been? Because he was looking at her with complete disbelief, and she suspected not nearly enough people had told him how totally wonderful he was. She leaned forward and kissed him. “And you’re perfect exactly the way you are. Exactly as you are.”

  He scoffed, but it was halfhearted. “Someone’s still drunk.”

  She poked him. “You should thank people when they tell the truth.”

  A laugh sobbed out of him, and he pulled her onto him so he could kiss her, his lips gentle and sweet despite the strength in his arms.

  Fierce protectiveness exploded through Evie, and she held him tightly against her. She wanted to wrap him up and stop anyone from hurting him again. For now, all she could do was kiss him hard, hard enough to press her feelings into his soul.

  When the kiss ended, she opened her eyes and looked him straight in his. He smiled at her, his fingers lightly brushing her face. “You’re pretty amazing yourself, Godzilla.”

  Her throat closed up with emotion. Somehow she rather doubted that. “Was this you or your ex talking?”

  His mouth twisted. “The worst parts of me and, yeah, her. She thought she was okay with it. And I guess she did try.” He sighed. “Luce had all the traditional binary crap in her head. I had to shake out all this toxic stuff about masculinity, but she didn’t see any need to do that. She just didn’t get why it was a problem. We had a lot of arguments about it.”

  “Why was she with you, then?” It was something she’d wanted to know ever since he’d first told her about Lucette in the café.

  Tyler was quiet for a few minutes, brow furrowed in thought. She could almost see the gears working. He cleared his throat. “When we met, I was missing home and my family. I wasn’t doing . . . I mean, romance-wise, people didn’t mind hooking up with me, but no one seemed to want more, you know? She and I clicked when we danced, and our chemistry was amazing. It’s a tough life, being a dancer. Not everyone gets it, but obviously we did. I guess we thought it was good enough.” He shifted in her arms. “I know why I was with her. I still don’t know why she stuck with me. But honestly? I think she was lonely too.”

  Evie ran her hands along his sides, digesting this. She was sure Lucette would have a different story to tell, and probably not one Evie would be interested in hearing. Honestly, how could one person screw with another like this?

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “And just so you know, I had to unlearn a lot of stuff too. I’m still unlearning things.” She glanced at him. “I’m trying too. I don’t want to ever make you feel bad about yourself, and I hope I haven’t. If I have, I’m sor—”

  “Hold it there.” He kissed her quickly, a kind of no-nonsense kiss. “You haven’t asked about my transition, my birth name, or my junk. You’ve been great, believe me.”

  Relief trickled through her. “Okay.” She leaned forward and rested her chin on his shoulder, relaxing into his warmth. Holding someone like this—being held—was wonderful. She’d missed this, and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to stop doing it. “I think you better join me on this sofa bed,” she murmured.

  “But we agreed that—”

  “We did. I’m not changing that.” She raised her head so she could read his face and he could see hers. “But I don’t want to sleep alone right now, and I don’t think you want to either.”

  His eyes gleamed in the dim dawn light. He lightly kissed her again, then climbed in beside her. Evie lowered herself into his waiting arms and gathered as much of him to her as she could. He kissed her forehead, then her eyes and nose and cheeks and chin before finally brushing her lips. It was as much comfort as romance, and she drank in the sensations as though they were water.

  Soon Tyler drifted back to sleep. Evie lay awake, listening to his heartbeat. Now, in the shelter of so much intimacy, the numbness she’d felt receded. Warmth slowly seeped in, and she eventually drowsed too.

  A few hours later, a clatter in the kitchen woke her. She blinked, disconcerted, then pleasantly surprised, then embarrassed to find herself facing Tyler, who smiled back at her. Ah, right, she’d practically demanded he sleep with her—next to her, not with her, goddamn it . . . She hid her face against his chest. Tyler’s hand ran up and down her back again, but with more purpose this time.

  “Morning,” he murmured.

  Evie didn’t trust herself to look at him. “Good morning.”

  “I thought I’d dreamed this.”

  She smiled against his chest. “You’re still dreaming.”

  He laughed, his whole body vibrating against hers. “I hope not.” A kiss landed on her hair, then along her neck and down to the edge of her shirt. Okay, all of that was promising. She raised her head to meet his gaze, his dark eyes and skin glowing in the morning light. He looked truly beautiful. I wouldn’t mind seeing this every morning, crossed her mind before she could help herself. Stop it right there, Evie. You have this morning.

  To distract herself, she moved her fingers warningly against his side, the threat of a tickle, and he huffed in amusement. “Too late.”

  “Oh really—”

  He went on the offensive and started tickling her. She laughed and tried to fend him off. The grappling ended up with her trapping his hands on either side of his head, him flat on his back and her kneeling above him, pinning him down.

  “Behave.”

  “Make me,” he replied with that devastating smile of his, the one that lit up his entire face. He raised his upper body towards her so he could whisper in her ear, “This is a good start.”

  His breath against her ear sent a shiver down her spine. It went straight to her groin, which ached in response. That was good to note: everything was working as usual. Her mind, as ever, was crystal clear and focused. She could end this or continue it. Evie was pretty sure this was only flirting. Heavy flirting, but flirting nonetheless. So she decided to play along. Just for now. Because she trusted him to know they were only messing around.

  “Is it now?” she teased, wriggling a little. “You like being held down?” His breath drew in sharply. She leaned down, keeping her weight on his hands, so she in turn could whisper to him. “Do you wish I had some rope or cuffs here?” A small moan escaped him.

  “Good morning,” Bailey called, passing by the living room door.

  Startled, Evie looked up, only to be tackled and rolled onto her back, several feet of dancer and muscle pinning her now. Tyler grinned down at her, his leg rubbing against her thigh. Evie had to admit that felt damn good.

  “Shame we’re here,” he said, “and that we agreed not to go too far, otherwise I would definitely be exploring that suggestion of yours right now.”

  She raised her eyebrows, then wriggled once more, wanting to feel his leg against hers again. He lowered down and nuzzled her neck, brushing day-old stubble along her clavicle and up to her jaw. She closed her eyes to really feel all that sensation: his stubble, his weight, his hands against hers.

  His lips found hers again, and he released her hands in order to cup her face and run his thumb along her neck. She wrapped her
arms around him and traced the muscles along his back. The kiss deepened to slow tongue. The feel of his lips against hers, the hard press of his hands along her skin and in her hair, and the smell of his body curling around her—all of it was intense. Hot. Sweet. Hard.

  Too soon, Bailey walked back along the corridor and called, “Breakfast’s ready.”

  They finished the kiss, and Tyler rested his forehead against hers with an irritated sigh. “Damn it.” She couldn’t help agreeing.

  “They have coffee,” she said.

  Tyler’s gaze snapped to hers. “They do?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at the door. “Hmm.”

  “Thank you for last night. And this morning.” Her thumb brushed his jaw. “I could do more with you very easily, Tyler.” She hoped he understood what she was saying.

  His eyes darkened. His hands fluttered at her waist, edging her shirt. Evie paused, then trailed her fingers down his bare chest—

  Both of their stomachs growled at the same time, and they laughed.

  Spell broken, they rose and Evie straightened her hair as they joined Bailey in the kitchen. Bailey didn’t say a word about anything they must’ve seen, merely handed Evie her usual cup of tea and a plate of toast.

  “Coffee?” they asked Tyler as he dug into his own plate.

  “Yeah. Please.”

  Evie sipped her tea as Bailey poured Tyler a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks, Bay,” he said.

  “My pleasure. Milk?” Bailey shot a glance over their shoulder at Evie and waggled their eyebrows.

  Evie blushed. “Stop.”

  “No way.”

  Tyler smiled into his cup of coffee. Evie thought he looked just right like that, tousled from sleep, mug in hand, relaxed against the counter—

  “Oh my God, is that the time?” Sarah screeched from the bedroom.

  Steps thumped along the corridor, then she slid into the kitchen, tucking a shirt into her pencil skirt. Bailey nonchalantly handed her a slice of toast and mug of coffee. She chewed a mouthful of it and sipped the coffee, then eyed Evie and Tyler. “You two look well slept,” she said sarcastically. Evie wanted to roll her eyes; Sarah’s bags were as heavy as theirs.