Legal Bindings

22. Evan

“I still don’t seehow you’re getting it down the stairs,” Sydney said as she and Evan emerged from the narrow attic stairwell and into the hall. “It’s huge.”

“I got it up there, didn’t I?” he asked, shutting the door behind them.

The “it” in question was Evan’s big, complicated Nick painting—the centerpiece of his upcoming show—which he’d hesitated to show Sydney in its final form. But with less than two weeks until his opening, he needed a second opinion, even if that opinion was from a sixteen-year-old with a big mouth and more concerns about the spatial dimensions of the piece than the content, which she had declared “really good.”

“I guess, but it’s more fragile now,” she said.

“You’re more fragile now, punk,” he replied, reaching over to ruffle her shaggy hair, which she’d recently cut herself. She called it stylish. Evan called it a proto-mullet, but whatever. She was cute enough to pull it off.

It had been nearly three weeks since they’d had their first art lesson, which meant three weeks of falling for Sydney’s spiky little personality. The two of them, plus Nick, had developed a routine in which Sydney painted furiously on the afternoons she didn’t have community service then stayed for dinner before catching a ride home with one of them, depending on who felt like driving.

Evan adored her, and he could only pray that the eventual background check would turn up nothing out of the ordinary, because he didn’t want to lose her, and he didn’t want anything to delay Donna’s ability to rush Nick’s application through the system. And as far as Evan was concerned, Sydney needed to be out of the group home and living with Nick, like, yesterday.

The Nick situation was a whole other thing. While they’d only slept together a handful of times since the first night—Nick had asked twice, and Evan had offered a few more times than that—Evan hadn’t even begun to parse his complicated feelings about his roommate. The frustrating thing was that Evan’s emotional attachment to Nick was growing beyond the physical, yet Evan also knew that his career was poised to kick off in a big way, which might lead to bigger and better things. His future might not involve Seattle or Nick or the cozy little attic nest he had built for himself at all.

“Nick’s home!” Sydney pointed at the sweep of headlights against the living room wall, indicating Nick’s turn into the driveway. “Food!”

Nick had been out on one of about a million informational interviews pertaining to his foster application, but Sydney didn’t know that, because Nick wasn’t telling her about his plans until they were firmer.

Evan stood up. “Let’s go. You can help me set the table, Siddo.”

They went downstairs, and by the time Nick came through the door, laden with bags, they were ready and waiting for their Chinese food.

“Hi, honey, you’re home,” said Evan, blowing him an exaggerated kiss.

Nick rolled his eyes, and Sydney watched the interplay with interest. She wasn’t stupid, and Evan wasn’t subtle, but she had yet to comment on their changed dynamic.

“Did you get egg rolls?” she asked.

“Yes, if you can contain yourself. Honestly, Syd.” Nick bumped her out of the way with his hip and dropped the bags onto the dining room table. She nudged him back then dug until she found the egg rolls and took a huge bite.

“You’re like a wild animal,” Evan remarked as he slid into his seat and began unpacking the rest of the food like a civilized person.

“I’m hungry,” said Sydney at the same time Nick said, “She’s growing,”

Nick was going to make a great dad. Theoretically.

“My mistake.” Evan found the beef and broccoli, opened the container, and scooped some onto his plate. “How was your interview, Nick?” Sydney would assume he meant a job interview, of course, and Evan wouldn’t disabuse her of that.

Nick sighed and reached for the egg rolls before Sydney could hoard all three. “Middling but not a complete disaster.”

“What interview?” Sydney asked. “Where?”

“Just a firm downtown,” Nick said, which was true enough, in that the child and family services center was located there. “Pass me the—”

He was interrupted by Sydney’s phone pinging. She glanced down to read the text—she’d been glancing at texts all afternoon—then let out an honest-to-God giggle. “I gotta go.”

“Go where?” Nick asked, raising a paternal brow.

“It’s my friend Gina. She didn’t know if she could go out, but her mom said she could, and she’s picking me up, and she’s early.”

“Who’s Gina?”

“My friend. We’re going to a movie, but she wants to get dinner first.”

“You have dinner right here.”

“Yeah, but she’s hungry! Can I take the crab rangoon?”

Nick looked helpless, so Evan decided to put him out of his misery. “Does anyone else know you’re going to this movie?”

“Yesss,” she said, clearly aggrieved at the inquisition. “I told the house monitor this morning that I might be hanging out with Gina. She’s approved it.”

“She’s approved it,” Nick echoed.

Sydney huffed. “It’s fine. I ride with her all the time.”

Nick pursed his lips, which had the effect of making him look like a very handsome schoolmarm. Evan tried not to laugh. “Text me when you get home, then,” Nick said.

“Uh, okay.”

Despite her rolling eyes, Evan could tell it meant something to her that Nick cared. She took the last egg roll, along with two fortune cookies and the crab rangoon. After giving Nick and Evan another goodbye, she grabbed her bag and headed out the side door.

Nick, eyes narrowed, went to the kitchen window and folded his arms. “Approved list… I should have called the house.”

“Such a dad,” Evan said, laughing a little. “Give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Hmph.” Nick turned away from the window then sat back down and shoved a bite of lo mein into his mouth.

“Any news on the application? How was your interview, really?” Evan asked while his mouth was full, just to fuck with him.

Nick swallowed, setting down the container with a sigh. “Today was just the preliminary meet-and-greet thing. I’ll have the interview panel in a month, I think, and then I’ll have conditional approval, which just means I can fill out more paperwork. Normally, it’d take longer, but Donna’s really working the system for me. However…” There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I do have some good news.”

“Oh?”

“You remember the interview I had the day we, uh… had the fight?”

“You mean the day we started fucking?”

“Yes,” he said with an eye roll that could rival Sydney’s finest work. “I never heard back from them, so I assumed it had just been a courtesy interview. But the hiring manager called me today. She said that they’d put a temporary freeze on new hires because it was the end of the quarter, but they’d been given the green light to hire again, and the job’s mine if I want it.”

Evan let out a whoop of delight, knocking their feet together. “You should have led with that, Nicky! Holy shit!”

“Yeah, it’s good,” he said, grinning. “I mean, it’s a six-month probationary contract, but I think it’s promising. And I got the news before the meet and greet, so when they asked me if I was employed, I could answer honestly.”

“Fantastic.” Evan placed both hands flat on the table. “That, in my oh-so-humble opinion, is cause for celebration.”

Nick raised a curious brow. “What kind of celebration?”

Evan grinned. “We’re going out.”

* * *

“This looks… loud,” said Nick a couple hours later as they got out of the cab in front of Romp, the city’s best gay club with the worst name.

“Yeah, but you look great,” Evan replied, tugging him toward the line that was about twenty people deep.

Nick did look great because Evan had been the one to dress him. His wardrobe of gray, black, and navy didn’t have much in the way of club wear, so Evan had settled on a pair of tight jeans and a white T-shirt—Nick insisting all the while that it was an undershirt—paired with a bomber jacket he was shocked to see in Nick’s collection. As it turned out, a one-night stand with good taste in outerwear had left it at his apartment in San Francisco. Nick couldn’t say why he’d kept it, but Evan was glad he had.

“I’m trying way too hard,” Nick complained as they approached the door.

“No, you’re not. Hi, Francis.” Evan knew the bouncer because he knew everyone. “This is Nick. Doesn’t he look good?”

“Fantastic. Cover’s twenty apiece.”

“Good God, has Jesus Christ herself come off the cross to grace us with a lip sync?”

“Nah. Just one of the Drag Race contestants.”

“Ugh.” Evan dug into his back pocket just as Nick passed two twenties to Francis. “Hey, no, my treat—”

“It’s fine. I’m gainfully employed,” Nick said as Francis stamped their hands and waved them in.

“Fine, but I’m getting the drinks.”

They stepped into the swirling lights of the club, a thumping bass line drowning out anything else he might have wanted to say. As was always the case when one of RuPaul’s gems came to town, the crowd was excessive, so they had to fight their way to the bar.

“What do you want?” Evan shouted over the music, miming raising a drink to his lips.

“Beer?” Nick mouthed. Evan wrinkled his nose. Nick tried again. “Gin and tonic?”

Evan gave him a thumbs-up and shouted their orders at the shirtless bartender, who reminded him of a shorter, slimmer version of Colin. Once they’d started a tab, Evan took Nick in search of a table near the stage where the drag show would be happening. Watching the show seemed a safer bet than trying to get Nick out on the dance floor because Nick didn’t seem like much of a dancer. Evan simply couldn’t imagine a world in which the man felt comfortable enough to throw his hands in the air and wave them like he just didn’t care. Nick cared. Exhaustively.

No sooner were they seated than Evan spotted a friend across the room, followed by a second and a third. Within a few minutes, he and Nick were thronged by friends and well-wishers—people he hadn’t seen in a minute, former roommates, even a couple of guys he’d slept with once and never called again, including the one he’d spanked at Nick’s house.

“Are you okay?” Evan asked after holding court for a few minutes, leaning close to Nick.

“You know everyone, huh?”

“I guess?” He offered him a smile. “Sorry. I know it’s crazy.”

“It’s okay. I’m having fun.” He paired that with the half smile that Evan had learned was genuine. Nick wasn’t someone given to effusive displays of emotion, good or bad, so the fact that he’d let Evan dress him like a paper doll and bring him to a drag show meant he wanted to be there.

The crowd filled in, and by the time the lights dimmed for the show, the three rows of tables ringing the stage had people filling every nook and cranny. Evan grinned in anticipation then pulled a stack of dollar bills from his back pocket. He split the stack and pressed half the money into Nick’s palm. Nick looked down in confusion.

Evan managed to shout, “For tips!” before the announcer boomed over the speakers, and the show began.