Fear - 11

As soon as they entered the bar, Shawn knew things were going to go badly.

Dinner had been great; the restaurant was full of tourists and locals, none of whom seemed to care that he and Jared were two men together as a couple. But then the town catered to the ski crowd in the winter and affluent summer visitors who were world-wise enough to accept that in this day and age being gay was unexceptionable. Jared had been sweet and attentive and Shawn had lapped it up. This is the way it used to be—most of the time. He'd sighed happily more than once.

When they got to the bar, though, Jared had started to withdraw, moving away just enough to let Shawn know he was to behave as if they were only friends who happened to be roommates.

I can do this. Shawn looked around the bar. He knew instantly why Jared was acting that way. Most of the men were obviously guys from the construction crew and most had their girlfriends with them. So why are we here?

"Hey, Chuck, happy birthday," Jared said, slapping the back of a burly man with a crew-cut sitting at the bar. "How young are you now? Thirty-five and counting?" Jared laughed when Chuck flipped him off then flagged down the bartender to order them both drinks, totally ignoring Shawn in the process, other than to introduce him as the guy he was rooming with.

The next hour proceeded along much the same lines. Shawn met several of the construction crew and then was totally ignored by them—and by Jared. He finally found a vacant stool at the end of the bar, ordered a beer, and sipped it slowly while he watched Jared and his friends help Chuck celebrate his birthday.

"Want to dance?"

Shawn turned quickly and saw a woman standing there, a small smile on her face.

"Umm, sure." Why the hell not? At least it'll give me something to do.

She took his hand, leading him through the crowd to the small dance floor. He was glad the band was loud and the music was fast so he didn't have to really hold her as they danced. By the time they were on the third song, he realized he was having fun. He hadn't danced in forever—not since he and Jared used to hit up some of the gay clubs in the city back when they'd first met.

Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder and he froze mid-step. An angry voice said, "That's my lady you're putting the moves on. I suggest you find someone else before I deck you."

The woman instantly moved to the man, wrapping her hands around his arm. "Then you dance with me, honeybunch," she cooed, smiling up at the man. "He's a lousy dancer anyway." She pointed at Shawn when she said that then tugged her boyfriend away to the center of the dance floor.

With a sigh, Shawn headed back to the bar. As he did, he looked around for Jared, praying he hadn't been aware of what had happened. He found him, standing with some of his buddies. Jared was watching him and from the angry scowl on his face, it was obvious he was not happy. As soon as Jared knew Shawn had seen him, he turned his attention back to the other guys, loudly ordering a round of shots for all of them.

Shawn looked at the front door of the bar, which suddenly seemed miles away, wishing he had the nerve to just leave. But he knew too well what the consequences would be if he did. At least I was dancing with a woman. That should count for something. I hope. Morosely, he reclaimed his seat at the bar.