Truth or Spare (Princes Take New York #2)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

G arth Brooks seemed like a decent enough guy, but Dewey wanted to pop him in the eye for ruining a perfectly good evening. Dewey had been on a roll and was learning all kinds of interesting things about Theo until some jackass drove by with his stereo blasting.

Now, “Friends In Low Places” played on a loop in Dewey’s head and he was still dancing with Theo in the alley two days later.

“I don’t even like dancing,” he complained as he replaced the keypad on 5.

It had been out of order for over a week and Dewey was lucky enough to snag a new one on eBay for cheap. The last league night had been chaotic with one less lane and superstitious bowlers who swore the world would end if they deviated from their routines.

“Don’t recall asking you,” Keith said as he watched over Dewey’s shoulder.

Dewey swatted him away and pointed at 6. “Stay on your lane,” he ordered with a threatening glare.

“Alright, alright!” There was a soft chuckle as Keith picked up his ball and waited for the pins to lower. “Bet you wouldn’t mind dancing with that fancy Frenchie you hired,” he said and nodded at the side door.

Theo had excused himself fifteen minutes earlier, claiming he needed to change for league night. Into what, Dewey wasn’t sure, but he would send Theo right back to the Winnie if he showed up in a tie again. His customers might like it but Dewey would be damned before he wore a tie to work. That was half the point and one of the best parts about owning and operating a bowling alley.

“He isn’t French, he’s Austrian. And I don’t want to dance with you or Theo. I don’t like dancing,” he repeated and turned when the side door opened and Keith whistled loudly.

“What’s the difference?” he asked and laughed as he raised his ball.

Dewey wasn’t listening, too distracted—enchanted—as Theo strode toward them. He was dressed in a hot pink and navy bowling shirt, dark brown trousers, and rental shoes. His hair was a masterpiece and a bouquet of alluring scents wafted from him, making Dewey dizzy as Theo turned in front of him.

Enchanted? A bouquet of alluring scents?

Was Dewey’s brain in one of the gutters? Why did he hear “Friends In Low Places” again when he’d put on Elvis for the blue hairs?

He tugged on his ear and squeezed his eyes shut. Theo was still there when Dewey opened them, dressed in his version of bowling couture as Elvis sang “Teddy Bear.”

“My first league night! How do I look?” Theo asked, sliding a hand into the pocket of his trousers and halting like he was at the end of a runway.

“Like a neon nitwit on his way to the fruit parade,” Keith muttered from 6 but Theo tipped his chin back.

“Danke! I’m taking that as a compliment,” he boasted, popping the collar of the bowling shirt and winking cheekily at Dewey. “Found this on sale. Why would you let this treasure go for $15?”

Dewey shrugged, more interested in the opened top buttons and the glimpse of Theo’s bare chest. “It’s too big for most of the women who come in and hot pink isn’t as popular with men around here, I guess.” He gave himself a shake and focused. “Their loss. Cassie’s coming in to run the desk while I handle things in the workshop. Your job is to give her a hand if it gets busy and keep an eye on the trash cans and the floors,” Dewey said with a nod at the seating areas at the end of each lane. “We’ll have a decent night as long as things run smoothly in the back and we can maintain order up here,” he predicted while mentally crossing his fingers.

It had been a long time since Dewey could just run the workshop on a league night. Nights when Dewey ran the alley alone were pure chaos. Thankfully, Cassie was usually available to run the desk after she got off at the salon, but Dewey would spend the evening racing between the front and the back of the alley, tidying and helping players between resets and repairs.

“I think I can manage that!” Theo said with a cheerful thumbs up.

“Good. But be prepared: they might grab you if one of the teams is short and they need an extra body. I don’t mind if you want to play as long as you’ve got a handle on everything else.”

Theo cheered and rubbed his hands together. “Sounds like fun.”

“Should be,” Dewey replied, nodding as he scanned around them to see if there was anything left to do. “League nights used to be my favorite, when we had a full staff.”

For a moment, Dewey saw the alley filled with happy, laughing players and heard the sound of balls spinning down the lanes and striking pins. He smiled as he saw Roddy, goofing around and entertaining players while their father chatted with Cassie and happy patrons at the front desk. Dewey recalled the easy, instant satisfaction of whipping a few balls down a lane for a few fast strikes and high fives whenever he had free time.

Now, Dewey couldn’t manage a decent game, his arm got so tired and his grip lost its strength so quickly. It was almost a blessing, being too busy to stop and enjoy the community of faithful bowlers that had raised him. Dewey didn’t want any of them noticing how much his arms shook or seeing him drop balls mid swing. He wouldn’t be able to fool them and the whole town would know that Dewey was deteriorating.

The last thing Dewey wanted was more of Oslo’s pity. He was already the poor sap whose brother took off after their father died, leaving him with a family business to run and a baby to raise. None of that had felt like a burden or worthy of praise to Dewey. He loved Brooks Bowling with his whole heart and didn’t want to do anything else but run it the way his father would have. And he considered Bryce a blessing and cherished every moment with that boy.

These days, there were other bowling alleys between Oslo and Syracuse, but people still came from miles to play at Brooks because it was tradition. They had learned to play with their parents and grandparents as Dewey grew up alongside them. And despite Dewey’s occasional grumbles, it was an honor, seeing those players pass their love of the game and Brooks Bowling onto their children and grandchildren.

He often felt like a caretaker of something nobler than a small bowling alley and revered his responsibility to his community. But Dewey’s myasthenia gravis and rheumatoid arthritis were burdens that made damn near everything he did more difficult and left him utterly wiped out. Often in the middle of tasks and long before the end of the day.

Even with his worsening condition, Dewey was still grateful for everything he had. He didn’t want to give up his position as keeper of the Brooks Family Bowling flame or be seen as weak and helpless. So far, Theo was proving to be more of an accidental handful, but he’d keep everyone distracted and all eyes off of Dewey for another evening, at least.

“Just watch the players. Make sure everyone keeps their street shoes and bags out of the way so no one trips. With Cassie up front and me in the workshop, it should be a pretty easy night.”

It would be a lot easier if Dewey had an extra able body in the back, but he was already relieved, knowing that Theo was taking care of the evening’s patrons. He might have been clueless around tools and was baffled by the register, but Theo was a natural when it came to charming players and tidying after them.

“Why don’t you get in a practice game? We’re all set and it should be quiet for the next hour or so,” Dewey noted as he checked his watch.

“Sounds like a brilliant idea!” Theo said and went to select a ball from the stand behind lane 2’s seating area. He chose a hot pink ball to match his shirt and Dewey was just about to sneak back to the office for a power nap when Theo lined up to make his first roll.

Theo’s grip was all wrong and he was still swinging the ball like he was attempting an underhanded softball pitch.

“Hold on!” Dewey stopped him and jogged over. “Not like that,” he said as he stepped behind Theo and supported the hand with the ball. It took just a moment to adjust Theo’s grasp, sliding the proper fingers into the holes. Dewey cupped Theo’s hand, spreading his palm over the ball.

“Ach so! Is that what I’ve been doing wrong?” Theo laughed softly, shimmying his shoulders and settling against Dewey’s chest. “How do you make the ball spin?” he asked, glancing back at Dewey. His hair brushed Dewey’s cheek and his smile was drowsy and taunting as Theo wiggled his brows. “I saw you throw the sexiest strike the other day and I was hoping for a private lesson.”

“Were you?” Dewey croaked and coughed, nodding as he licked his lips and squinted at the pins at the other end of the lane. “I was just walking by and it was early and I didn’t think anyone was looking,” he babbled, too aware of how nice it felt being this close to Theo. Dewey was tempted to nuzzle his face into the corner of Theo’s neck and inhale more of his intoxicating cologne and aftershave. Nothing in Oslo had ever smelled as soft and clean as Theo, and Dewey was overcome with the urge to sniff and squeeze and taste. Theo’s remarks about the soda syrup and the taste of ass were ricocheting inside his brain. Dewey was burning up as he tightened his hold on Theo’s hand and made a turning motion. “Like this,” he said weakly.

“Like this?” Theo murmured while mimicking the movement, his arm and hand swinging and turning easily with Dewey’s.

“Yup.” He wasn’t capable of more than that as Theo relaxed in his arms and earnestly observed. “It’s in the wrist. Like you’re turning a dial,” Dewey explained in a hot, blushing mumble.

Dewey had given countless lessons over the course of his life. He had even flirted while doing it a few times, but he’d never been this aware of the other person. Theo’s shoulders and frame were much wider than the women Dewey had dated and fooled around with in the past. He was so much stronger and more solid than their softer, smaller bodies. Dewey had thoroughly enjoyed those encounters, but he was captivated, imagining how different sex would feel with a body he could truly burrow into and manhandle.

“You gonna teach him something, Doobie, or are you two gonna get a room?” Keith asked.

“You sound jealous, Keith,” Theo called back but his eyes remained on the pins at the end of the lane. “And here I thought it was a matter of aiming the ball and keeping it as straight as possible,” he said absently, seemingly unaware that Dewey was sweating or of the hard-on swelling in his jeans as they practiced swinging and turning the ball in Theo’s hand.

“Nope,” Dewey said raggedly. “You want to aim for the outside and it’ll curve toward the center pin once you figure out how to spin it.”

“Ah! Physics!” Theo replied as he stepped forward, easing out of Dewey’s embrace. He drew the ball back and let go, sending it rolling down the lane. It arced nicely, but slid into the gutter instead of careening toward the pins. “Schei?e!” he exclaimed softly.

“That was a lot better, though,” Dewey said and went to the return to retrieve the ball when it came down the short ramp and rolled toward him. He picked it up and grunted softly at the heavy weight and the immediate burning in his wrist. He should have used both hands and almost dropped it, but Theo eagerly leaned in and took it from him.

“Show me again!” he said once he was in position, holding the ball up and in front of his face.

“Okay…” Dewey looked around to make sure he was still awake as he sidled up behind Theo once more. He felt like he was dreaming and was surprised that Keith hadn’t said worse or laughed at him. Mostly, he was afraid of Theo noticing how much of a bumbling idiot he turned into whenever they were that close. “Hold it like this,” Dewey said as his hand covered Theo’s again and rearranged his grip. “And remember to use your wrist, not your whole arm,” he murmured while they practiced swinging.

“Eli would be brilliant at bowling,” Theo said and turned slightly, rolling his eyes. “He is obsessed with physics and has a natural talent for any sport. His passion for parkour and skateboarding keeps me up at night,” he complained with a sigh, but paused to stare at Dewey’s beard or his lips. “Not that I miss him,” he added faintly.

Dewey could have sworn that Theo’s neck had craned and their lips had brushed before the front doors opened and a gaggle of blue hairs entered the bowling alley, hooting and cackling at each other.

“They’re here!” Dewey blurted and jumped away, causing Theo to stumble and nearly drop the ball.

“So they are,” he agreed with a chuckle and shook his head, looking amused as he went back to practicing.

Cassie arrived a few minutes later but Dewey was immediately waylaid by Judith Henderson.

“Lettie Clark’s hip is acting up again so we’re short a player. How about covering for her, stud?” she asked, causing Dewey to grimace as he backed away.

“Can’t. Gotta keep an eye on the workshop.”

“I’ll give it a try,” Theo offered, raising his hand. “But don’t get your hopes up. I’ve only had a few brief lessons.”

Judith’s jaw fell and there was a hungry gleam in her eyes as she sized him up. “You’ll do!”

“Not so fast!” Sally Cryer shouted. “We should get him.”

Judith rolled her eyes and flailed a hand at her. “All five of your players are here.”

“Go home, Helen,” Sally barked, her lips pursing as she assessed Theo.

“Hey!” Helen protested from the back of the crowd, causing giggles and titters as the women pretended to argue over Theo.

“Good luck, ladies,” Dewey said as he left them and headed for the back.

He was confident that Theo could manage on his own and was relieved to find nothing but happy, laughing bowlers when Dewey checked on the front of the house three hours later. The floors were free of shoes and clutter and the trash cans, counters, and tables all looked clean. Cassie was chatting with a pair of high schoolers while Theo scored a spare, earning wild cheers from both teams.

The other players were all smitten and thoroughly entertained as Theo bowed and clapped, then mingled like he was in a ballroom and surrounded by elegant matrons. Theo always carried himself like he was wearing a tuxedo and treated every person he spoke to like a dignitary. Instead of feeling intimidated or embarrassed by their lack of sophistication, people around Theo smiled brighter and carried themselves a little prouder.

Dewey had even caught Keith calling himself “sir” and notching his chin back just a touch higher. It was refreshing, after watching the elderly veteran struggle with the loss of his dog and his job at the auto repair shop a few years earlier. He was gently asked to retire and they saw less and less of Keith around town, but the bowling alley was one of the few places he still visited.

It was especially touching, seeing Keith tuned in and laughing. Like a lot of the older people in Oslo, Keith had seen better days and missed having a purpose. They all did their best to look out for him, but Dewey suspected that making a new “friend” had given Keith something positive to look forward to. And being treated like a gentleman and a peer by the bowling alley’s improbably elegant and worldly new employee seemed to be doing wonders for the old man’s self-esteem.

“Get over here and play a game with us, Doob! How long has it been?” Judith called but Dewey waved her off as he went to check in with Cassie.

“How’s it going?” he asked her, earning a bored shrug as she glanced up from her Kindle. She was a voracious reader and usually had it with her and out if she wasn’t meddling in Dewey’s affairs.

“Same as always. You know, they wouldn’t give you a hard time about playing if you told them .”

Dewey rolled his eyes and punched the enter button on the register, opening the drawer. “Don’t need all of them worrying about me too.” He kept his gum where the 20s would have gone and helped himself to a piece before offering her the pack. She shook her head and nodded at the lanes.

“You should definitely tell Theo.”

“Don’t need him worrying about me either.”

“Out of all the people in this alley, he should be worrying about you. It’s his job, Doob.”

“No, it’s his job to help me run this place. He’s not a nurse.”

“He’s not a bowler either, but he’s learning,” she said and pointed at the lanes just as Theo rolled his first strike. Everyone cheered wildly as Theo leaped in the air, then scooped Judith into his arms and spun her like they were in a ballroom. She received an exuberant kiss before Theo went around, kissing cheeks and slapping hands. “He’d want to know,” she said, earning a flat look from Dewey.

“No. You would want to know because you’re nosy. You like knowing everything about everyone and being an open book. But I don’t want everyone in my business telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing.”

“But, Doob?—”

“Just like that,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ve known Theo for almost a week and I still can’t figure him out. Why would you assume he’d want to know or care?”

She drew back and glared. “First of all, you better believe that your health and well-being are my business! Imagine telling me not to worry about you, after everything you’ve done for me and Bryce.” She gave him a hard look, daring him to argue with her. “Exactly,” she said with a defiant snort. “I can see that Theo has a good heart and he’d take all of this a lot more seriously if he knew the truth.”

“I don’t need him getting even more overzealous because he feels sorry for me. Who knows what Theo might break or how he’d hurt himself.”

That got a sympathetic groan out of Cassie. “At least he’s trying. You had a hard time just getting the kids you hired to show up every day.”

“True,” Dewey agreed. “He does help, in his own way,” he added before he wandered off to check the soda fountain and make sure all the candy was stocked.

Dewey wasn’t going to tell her about Keith calling himself “sir” or how much of a relief it was to have someone else on hand to fill in on league nights. Or, how thrilling it was just to be in proximity to another queer man for the first time in his life.

It didn’t really matter that Dewey didn’t have a chance with Theo. He reveled in his own stilted, silent way at simply being able to exist with someone who understood and accepted him as a bisexual. Or, possibly a pansexual. The easy banter and harmless flirting was both liberating and refreshing after years of being mocked and doubted.

Theo hadn’t rolled his eyes and said “Sure he is,” the way everyone else did when Cassie told him that Dewey was bi. Instead, Theo had taken Dewey’s side and treated him like a fellow queer person.

He had even said that Dewey was a catch.

That offhanded compliment had rolled around the inside of Dewey’s brain like a lonely marble, distracting him and giving him wild ideas. It had him asking weird questions that he didn’t need to ponder, like what Theo’s ass tasted like and what else he might be into.

“Damn it, Cassie,” Dewey complained and forbade himself from thinking about Theo’s ass for the rest of the night.

Theo and Cassie had their heads together and were giggling when Dewey returned to the front desk at closing time. The last of the blue hairs were leaving and Cassie had her phone out.

“See? He’s a looker without the beard, too,” she said as she pointed at the screen and passed it to Theo.

“I’m not sure which I prefer, Brooks” he said and held the phone out as he studied Dewey. “I could happily sit on that face with or without the beard.”

“Stop that!” Dewey hissed and waved but it was too late, Keith was appalled as he stomped over and slapped his shoes onto the counter.

“I don’t want to see all of Doobie’s face. He looks like a giant baby without a beard.”

“There you go,” Dewey said, surprised and relieved, nodding at Keith as he left.

Dewey went to make sure the parking lot was clear. “Hope you’re happy. He won’t shut up about that for at least a month,” Dewey warned but Theo flailed dismissively.

“I could do a lot worse.”

“Than a giant baby who runs a bowling alley in the middle of nowhere? I don’t think you could,” Dewey said, making Cassie groan in protest.

“Don’t say that! You’re a successful businessman and a community leader, who kind of looks like a baby without a beard,” she conceded and mouthed an apology at Dewey.

Theo shook his head. “I do not agree, but this reminds me of a funny expression we have in German: am Arsch der welt. It means: the ass of the world.”

“That’s appropriate,” Dewey said. “It feels like this bowling alley is at the ass-end of the world. I’m leaving, lock up behind you,” he told them, bone-tired and confused to his core.

He was afraid of—and anticipating—the havoc their beard debate was likely to unleash. There was no telling how many jokes Keith would make and Dewey could already hear that stupid song playing in his head. Dewey had a strong feeling that when he closed his eyes that night, he’d be dancing with Theo and sticking his beard in low places.

Not that Dewey was all that upset at the prospect or would do a damn thing to prevent it. He might not have an actual chance with the real Theo, but at least a guy could dream.