Perfectionist Katie and people-pleaser Andrew are in the process of figuring out their relationship when Andrew’s old school friend, Tyler, shows up. Tyler takes the couple on a journey of self-discovery as the three of them learn that maybe they work better as a trio than as a couple.
About Dancing in the Dark:
Katie and Andrew have been dating for several months and are ready to make their relationship official by introducing each other to their friends.
They decide to throw a barbecue, and Andrew can’t help inviting his old school friend, Tyler. But Tyler and Andrew have a history Katie knows nothing about.
While getting to know Tyler, Katie learns more about Andrew and herself.
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Excerpt:
Katie
Two weeks ago, lying in the early morning sunshine with the taste of Andrew in my mouth, this barbeque seemed like a good idea. Rip off the Band-Aid and introduce all our friends at once. It’s not like we’ve been keeping each other secret, it’s just we were so wrapped up in ourselves. Movies or brunch with friends didn’t seem as exciting as staying tangled in the sheets all weekend. Every weekend. Then most nights. Now I’ve practically moved in with him, and my friends are getting unbearably curious about this man who managed to steal me away from Girl’s Night Out for the past three months. The barbeque will ease their questions and work as an olive branch for blowing them off so much.
But bent over the toilet, scrubbing, it seems like a lot of work. Every day this week I’ve come straight from work to Andrew’s house to clean. No manicure Wednesday. One more missed Girl’s Night. Just dusting and sweeping and planning the damned menu. I don’t even cook, but there’s this nervousness growing in me that whispers everything needs to be perfect.
Andrew has told me to relax one too many times. I snapped at him the last time he said it. For him, it’s just a party, no big deal. That’s all it should be for me, too. But it feels almost like a test. I’m not sure what I hope to get if I pass.
It doesn’t help that Andrew is too busy for prepping. He does what he can, but he works in construction and comes home late and tired. I’d rather he save his energy for bed than run around cleaning. Besides, I’m pickier than he is. I don’t think he’s dusted in years. Or ever. He’s more relaxed about these things.
He tries to kiss me when he gets home, but I shoo him to the bathroom and wonder if this is what our life will be like if we stay together — me doing the housework, exhausted all the time. I put the bucket of cleaning supplies under the kitchen, twisting to relieve the tension in my back.
I make myself a mug of tea, ease into a chair, and try to relax. Its sweet licorice flavor seeps into me, and my muscles let go. By the time the water in the bathroom stops running, all the effort feels like maybe it’s worth it. I abandon my tea and wander down the hall to meet him. I push the door open and a puff of steam escapes the small room. He’s standing on the small blue rug, wrapped in a towel, with water dripping down the fur of his chest.
I love him like that. Not that I’ve said it yet. Not even a hint or sly slide-in. But I do. And it’s definitely worth it.
The water glistens on his black hair, running beneath it on his pale skin. I trace my fingernails from his neck to his belly, seeking water droplets. My mouth follows, drinking him in.
