Page 45 of Not Strictly Ballroom

He allows me to tug him up and lead him to the middle of the floor. I leave him briefly to put on some suitable music and then return. I hold out my hand for him to place his in it and then, before we start, I trail my other hand down his body. I graze his hip, and cupping his ass, pull him towards me for a kiss.

“Well, Mrs Herringsworth is going to have the dance of her life if you’re going to start like that.” He grins at me, and I’m pleased I’ve managed to get him to set aside his demons for now.

“Cheeky.” I nip his lip and he looks at me from under his lashes. It gets me every time. “Dance. It’ll loosen you up, and if you’re really lucky, I’ll blow you later to relax you some more.” I try not to think about that, as dancing is going to be uncomfortable if I’m sporting a boner.

“Maybe I’ll blow you.” He smiles seductively, and yeah, that’s not helping the boner situation.

“No way! With a jaw as tense as yours, you’ll bite it off, and I happen to be quite attached to my dick thank you.”

“I’m quite attached to your dick, too.” He gives me a smirk and then steps back out of my embrace so we can dance.

“I have something to tell you,” I announce a while later. We’re laid on Darcy’s bed and I’m curled into his side, trying to summon up the energy to go home. We never asked if I could stay over, and with it this close to the competition, Darcy needs all the rest he can get—and not much of that would be happening if I shared his bed. Which is what I wanted to talk to him about.

“Oh.” He tenses, and it saddens me that his first instinct is for this to be bad news.

“I’m going to start looking for houses next week.”

“What!” Darcy sits up, disturbing my position and making me sit up, too. “That’s fucking amazing, Nick. I didn’t think you had enough saved yet.”

“The last couple of jobs with my dad have been hard work, but the pay has been good. I have enough if I’m careful.”

“Awesome. Can I help you look?” He looks as excited as I feel.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” I can’t keep the smile from my face. We haven’t talked about the future. I don’t think Darcy wants to think past the weekend, really, and who can blame him? I would like to live with Darcy, share space with him, and share a bed. That couple of days we had when his parents were away gave me a glimpse of how we could be, and I’d love that.

“I . . .” I falter over asking him the next question, not sure how he will react. I’m normally confident about difficult subjects. I could have brought it up as a joke, almost. But this is so important to me, and is such a big step, that I find my mouth going dry and my hands shaking a little. I reach for his hand and interlace our fingers, as I need to feel connected to ask. I trace patterns on the back of his hand. “When I have a place, would you like to stay over?”

“Stay over?” he echoes, and I swallow.

“I mean, would you live with me?” I give his hand a squeeze.

“Oh, Nick.” He squeezes my hand back, the silent gesture meaning more to me than a thousand words can, but he tells me anyway. “There is nothing I’d love more, but are you sure? Financially, I’m pretty poor. I could contribute a bit, but not much, so it would feel wrong. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never be a burden,” I say, and then add, “Well, maybe . . .” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and I get a laugh, but then he’s serious again.

“I don’t have much to offer—sorry.”

“Darcy, you are more than enough.” I lift our joined hands and kiss the back of his, and he falls back on the bed in a mock swoon, and I can’t help laughing at him.

“Is that a yes, then?”

He smiles up at me from where he’s lying on the bed and nods enthusiastically. I cover him with my body, and kiss him until we’re both breathless and I’m in danger of missing the last bus home.

“We’d like you to have this.” Justin hands me an envelope when I finish his latest dance lesson with Mark. Equal measures of surprise and pleasure rush through me as I see the very elegant handwriting addressed to both Nick and me.

I open it carefully, not wanting to rip it so I can show it to Nick later. The card inside is beautifully decorated and I unfold it. It’s an invitation to their wedding. I whistle when I see the venue, Wortley Hall. That’s an impressive, former stately home turned hotel just outside the city.

“It’s, it’s . . .” I’m speechless. “Are you sure?”

Justin laughs, and Mark comes over and puts an arm across his shoulder. “Of course we’re sure. We hope you can both come.”

Mark joins in. “Justin thinks that having you there will ensure he doesn’t forget any of the steps to our dance.”

“Oh, you’re going to be just fine,” I reassure them. They’ve improved a lot and I am sure they’re practising a lot on their own. “But thank you. Can I get back to you when I’ve shown this to Nick?” Our first invite anywhere as a couple. It’s thrilling, but apart from going to Brazen, which is a gay club, and spending time with Riley and Kieran, I haven’t been anywhere else with Nick as his boyfriend. But I remind myself that this is Justin and Mark’s wedding, so of course it’s going to be fine.

“Sure, just text us on the number on the invite as soon as you know. We’ll see you next week,” Mark says.

“You don’t have to keep coming for lessons. You already know what you’re doing—you just need to practise.” I’ll hate to see them go, but I don’t want to take their money needlessly.

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