Dancing Lessons Read Online Free PDF Page B

sometimes everyone doesn’t already know everything about me.” He wiped his palm on his thigh and held out his hand. “I’m Rafael Winters.”
    “Yes. I know.” Chico ducked his head but accepted his hand. The sun and this man had him so warm. It wasn’t fair. He was supposed to be taking it easy, not getting aroused and embarrassed on a sunbaked sidewalk in full view of anyone with eyes.
    Rafael let out another small, pleased laugh. “Small towns can take some getting used to, can’t they? I hope it’s not too overwhelming. You haven’t been around much.”
    Chico dropped his hand. He’d been hoping they wouldn’t have to mention his near-breakdown during his arrival in town, or whatever it was people thought they knew about him.
    He sighed. “I don’t know what Davi’s said, but I’m doing fine.” His cousin wasn’t a blabbermouth, but Brandywine was only six streets. Rumor was bound to be a thing.
    Rafael studied him, scratching at his chin. “Davi hasn’t said anything except in response to what I asked after you arrived in town.” He put his hand out reassuringly when Chico froze. “Davi and I talk a lot. We’re neighbors. And Davi likes to say small town queers have to stick together.” He offered Chico a little smile that made Chico take a breath and nod and then finally smile in return.
    “Okay,” he agreed, willing to believe Davi hadn’t told everyone his business and aware that Rafael had no reason to pry anyway. He might be interested, in a way. As he’d pointed out, this was a small town, and his pool of potential gay friends, much less lovers, was equally small. At least during every season but summer.
    “Maybe someday I’ll be ready for one of those classes,” Chico added. “Davi has been after me to get out of the house more, meet people. That’s why I was at your studio.” He rolled his shoulders at the memory because his body wanted him to do something . “He wants me to volunteer to help with your, uh, recital performance. Everyone here seems very involved in local events and everything. It’s nice.” Rafael’s gaze was steady and encouraging. Chico looked around at the stalls and coffee cart but couldn’t stop himself from saying more. “I don’t know what he thinks I can do to help, though. I’m… well… kind of a mess, all around. Oh God. You don’t need to know all that. Shit.”
    He pulled in a deep breath and held his bag to his chest. “Anyway. If I’m here later on, maybe I’ll work up the nerve to take a class. For real this time, without crashing it. It felt—” He heard himself going breathless and ended that right there. “Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough.”
    Rafael drew his eyebrows together. They were nice, fine eyebrows, elegant somehow, like everything about him and his family. He had the feeling Rafael might not worry about which fork to use at a dinner party or obsess over vinyl records for the “perfect” sound, but he’d bring wine and flowers to meet the parents and be unruffled at being handed a small child to babysit and would actually know what he was talking about if someone asked him about opera or musical theater, and if he didn’t, he would say so instead of getting defensive.
    “Maybe someday,” Rafael echoed him, his tone polite but cooler than it had been a moment ago. He nodded toward one of the stalls selling apples and pears and some walnuts. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish my shopping.” His posture was so correct Chico lifted his chin, but that still left him several inches shorter.
    “Oh. Oh right.” Chico nodded because they both had shopping to do, and they didn’t need to do it together. Of course they didn’t. He’d already followed Rafael around the tiny farmer’s market like a lost lamb. How embarrassing.
    He made himself stay still as Rafael moved away. Rafael gave him one last smile, kind but distracted, and then Chico dropped his gaze to the ground.
    The first rule of meeting