Would things change forever, if we did something like that?

We all ate dinner together, but when he took my elbow as we were leaving and murmured, “Want to go hit that club?” in my ear, I smiled, and felt my bottom clench in excitement. It was within walking distance of the hotel, and when we all parted, I grabbed his hand and started walking. We were dressed for dinner-nice, but not too nice. It was still warm, although the last of the sun had faded out of the sky over an hour ago, and my skin was just slightly damp with perspiration.

His hand moved around my waist, massaging my hip through my skirt as we walked. We didn’t talk, but the air was charged around us, electric with possibility. I had no idea what might happen, but I hoped. I think he was hoping, too. The truth was, I’d never been inside a gay bar. In fact, I hadn’t spent much time in bars at all. Neither of us were big partiers, but we both had adventuresome spirits that longed for…more.

It wasn’t anything like I expected. Somehow I’d stereotypically pictured something out of The Birdcage. What we found wasn’t very different from most other night clubs or bars. It wasn’t full of flashy costumes, although both the men and women wore more leather than the general population, and had more tattoos and piercings. Or maybe that was just the bar crowd.

He brought a drink to a table I found near the back-something girly and fruity, because I hated the taste of alcohol-and we sat together, quiet, drinking and watching, through several songs. He ordered more drinks, and I didn’t object, although I was a lightweight. Two drinks and I was feeling warm and fuzzy, everything softening around the edges. Three drinks and I was bold enough to grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor-another thing we didn’t do very often.