Page 116 of Scoring Position

“Wow. Red tux, huh?” Greenie murmured under his breath. “Bold choice.”

Boldwas certainly one word for it. At least no one would have trouble picking him out in the crowd.

“Russian tradition,” Nico said. “Red was traditional for weddings until the sixties. NoGame of Thronesjokes, please.”

Whatever the Russian tradition, Katja wore white, with a wreath of flowers and ribbon in her hair. Ryan would’ve said she barely even looked pregnant, but then she turned sideways as they made their way to the dance floor, and—

“Oh my God she’shuge,” Dante whispered gleefully. “Ow!”

“Behave yourself,” Martin admonished. “Her ass has nothing on yours.”

“That’s because my ass was—”

Martin put a hand over his mouth. Even so, Ryan made out the words “God’s” and “gift” and “fantasies.”

Fortunately for all involved, the sound of cutlery against a wineglass cut the conversation short.

Yorkie stood at a microphone to the left of the table. “Hello, folks. If you don’t know who I am, I’m Tom Yorkshire, Misha’s captain.” He waved. “I’ve been asked to direct things today. Basically, he made me captain again. First up, before our dinner, we have the first dance.”

The table watched and cooed as a group as Kitty and Katja swayed together slowly, most likely in deference to her changed center of gravity. It seemed Katja had won over everyone in Kitty’s life.

Dinner was mouthwatering. According to Nico, Kitty had asked their favorite local Russian place to provide, and boy had they. Nico told them all about every dish and kept smiling sweetly like each bite reminded him of home.

After the food came the speeches, which were… plentiful, and not even Nico understood all of them. But considering that the rest of the table was conducting games of tic-tac-toe and I-spy on the down-low while pretending to listen to Kitty’s uncle for five minutes, while Nico actually had to listen, Ryan wasn’t sure Nico had the better end of the deal.

After speeches, the party started. There was dessert, and games, and dancing.

Dante jumped up and dragged his husband away as soon as the dance floor opened up. Next to Ryan, Nico tensed. “You said it would be fine, remember? Kitty told you it would be.” He’d called Nico weeks ago and promised that there would be no culture clash athiswedding.

“Yeah,” Nico said, breathing out. “Old habits.”

Greenie and his wife slipped to the floor, Chenner wandered off, and Jenna left to “find my man.”

So Ryan leaned in and said, “I don’t exactly have moves, but I’ve got a great middle-school-dance sway. Wanna hit the floor?”

Nico lifted one eyebrow. “With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?”

“You know you find me irresistible.” Ryan stood and held out his hand. Nico took it and followed him onto the dance floor.

But once there, he slipped his left hand around and settled it on Ryan’s waist and clasped Ryan’s in his right. “I’m leading,” he murmured.

“Oh?”

“Put your hand on my shoulder and follow my lead. Oh, and keep your eyes on me.”

Smiling, Ryan did as instructed, and then—okay, wow. Nico could actually dance. Likeproperlydance. He pushed Ryan around the room in a waltzy glide, slowly at first, and then with a bit more speed and smoothness once Ryan caught on.

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“My first boyfriend,” Nico admitted. “Learning a ballroom dance is sort of a thing for German prom.”

Ryan stuttered a step. “Okay, what?”

Nico grinned. “German prom is more… structured and starts with an opening dance. All the students learn a waltz for it. I missed out, but Johannes loved it, so he taught me to waltz.” He gave a subtle shrug.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Kirschbaum.”

“Why?” Nico smirked. “You into this?”

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