📚 From Wednesday:

“Don’t you like dancing?” He seemed genuinely puzzled, like a straight acquaintance had once reacted upon discovering my lack of interest in women.

I shrugged. “I like watching dancing.”

He must have taken that in, for when we were at the club, several times I had the distinct impression that he was dancing for me. It was when he began to dance in a more teasing, provocative fashion, moving the hips and the pelvis, and orienting himself so that I would get the best view of this. He never gave himself away by looking at me, but I felt he was actually performing for me.