Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
RHYS
“Grr, this curl!” I shout at the bathroom mirror, attacking an errant strand of honey-blond hair with the can of hairspray.
“If you use any more of that stuff, you’re going to pass out from the fumes.” Hayden leans against the doorframe, waving his hand in front of his face.
“Shut. Up. Everything has to be perfect!”
Hayden shoots me a sympathetic look through the mirror. “You positive you don’t want me at the wedding? I have a suit I can wear. I’ll just, you know, hang around the edges in case you need backup.”
I sigh and drop the hairspray onto the counter with a defeated clatter. The hair will just have to do. Ugh.
“No, it’s okay. I wouldn’t wish the old neighborhood on my worst enemy, never mind my best friend.”
Hayden winces. “If it’s that bad, are you sure you want to go?”
I turn to Hayden, letting my insecurities show. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, I’m definitely going because Angel asked me to and I’m not about to let him down. But honestly?”
“You wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy,” Hayden repeats back to me. “Yeah, I get it.”
I take a deep breath, just like I do to calm my nerves before getting up on stage. “It’s fine. Everything is fine. It’s just for a few hours. I’ve been through worse.”
“Well, one thing’s for certain, you’ll be the best-dressed person. Hell, you’ll probably upstage the bride,” Hayden says with a grin.
I glance down quickly at my ’fit. Angel said I could wear a ball gown. My dress isn’t quite a ball gown, but it’s close.
The floor-length blue and gold dress is made out of a shimmery satin material with long, tight sleeves that go all the way to my wrists. The front is modest, cutting across my collarbones in a wide boatneck collar. The back of the dress is another story, plunging all the way down to my lower back. The slit up the side is subtly cut, but if I stick my leg out just right, the fabric parts at the top of my thigh. The dress is stunning, but I don’t think I’ll upstage the bride. The colors are just muted enough to avoid being too loud.
Frankly? I look fucking amazing. I can’t wait to see Angel’s face when he comes to pick me up.
I told him it wasn’t a problem for me to call for a rideshare. But he was insistent about driving to Brooklyn, even though it means we have to turn around and go right back to Staten Island for the wedding.
But he enjoys doing chivalrous things like that. Running around to open car doors. Escorting me with his hand on my lower back. Pulling out my chair for me. I could argue that the gestures are old-fashioned and maybe even a little chauvinistic, but it makes him so happy, I can’t bring myself to stop him.
And if I’m honest, I kind of like being treated like a princess.
“I do look good, don’t I?” I let myself preen a little bit, shoring up my defenses for whatever Angel and I will encounter when we get to the wedding.
The intercom buzzes and I frown at the little box on the wall. “Is that Angel? I told him he didn’t need to come up.”
Hayden gives me a skeptical look. “Did you really think he would just wait in the car? After driving all the way here?” He hits the button on the intercom. “Hello?”
“Hey, hi, uh, it’s me. Uh, Angel.”
I put a hand over my heart as it tumbles over itself at how adorable Angel is. He’s been here at least a dozen times now, and every time he buzzes up, he stammers like he doesn’t know what to say.
Hayden chuckles. “Come on up.” He goes to unlock the door to our apartment, and when he gets back to the living room, he holds out his hand. “Your phone?”
“Why do you need my phone?” I ask, placing it on his palm.
“So I can take pictures.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re not in high school, and we’re not going to prom.”
Hayden tilts his head, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “ Did you go to prom?”
I huff. “No, I didn’t. But that’s beside the point. ”
“This can be your prom do-over. Complete with your own Prince Charming.”
“Hello?” Angel’s voice echoes down the long hallway that leads to the front door.
“In here!” Hayden calls.
I stop breathing as I wait for Angel to appear. And when he does, I’m not at all disappointed. He’s fucking gorgeous in a cream-colored suit that complements the gold in my dress. It fits him perfectly across his broad shoulders and follows the line of his body close enough to show off his bulk. The white shirt underneath is open at the collar, showing off his thick neck, that delicious dip at the base, and his signature gold chain. There’s a royal blue silk handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket, and his hair and beard are freshly trimmed.
He looks sophisticated and poised, like he just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. I love him, no matter what he’s wearing, but a part of me can’t help being proud that my rough-and-tumble construction worker cleans up really damn nice.
“You’re beautiful,” Angel says in a hushed tone. His gaze had wandered slowly down my body and now it makes its way slowly back up. When his eyes meet mine, the love shining in those warm browns steals my breath away.
Before I met Angel, I never really gave relationships much thought. I’m young and I figured I would find someone eventually. But Angel exceeds all my wildest dreams and craziest fantasies. And the fact that he’s from the old neighborhood feels like poetic justice somehow. I’ve snatched him from their clutches. He’s mine now and they can’t have him back .
He holds out his arms and I rush into them, not caring whether the hug will wrinkle our clothes. It’s more important that I touch him, hold him, kiss him. Thank god for smudge-proof lipstick.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I murmur against his lips, and they stretch into a wide grin.
His hands slide up from my lower back and a shiver runs through me when his rough palms meet skin. He kisses the corner of my mouth, up my jaw and down my neck. Heat pools low in my stomach.
“If you keep kissing me like that, we might not make it to the wedding.”
“I’m okay with that,” Angel mumbles, tightening his hold on me.
“Ngh.” I give him a half-hearted push. “But… but…” Why was it so important we go to this thing? There was something we wanted to do there… oh yeah. “But, the people.”
I couldn’t have been vaguer, but Angel knows what I mean. He sighs, breath hot against my neck, then straightens. His pupils are blown wide and his lips a rosy pink. “Right.”
I tug on his lapels and fluff up the handkerchief that got a little flattened. Only then do I notice Hayden hovering a few feet away, holding up my phone, camera pointed in our direction.
“Have you been recording this?”
He smirks, not taking his eyes off the phone screen. “Yup.”
Angel’s ears go pink and I spin toward Hayden, tucking Angel behind me.
“Denny! ”
“We need to document this for posterity.” He taps the screen, then lowers the phone. “Now for some stills. Sebastian’s going to love these. Go stand by the wall.”
I put on my annoyed face, but deep down, a part of me is thrilled that Hayden’s making such a big deal out of this. I’ve never felt like I missed out on prom, not until Hayden decided to turn this into a production. And now I feel like a teenager again, giddy and a little nervous about the big night.
Angel snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me in close, his hand resting on my opposite hip. He stands straight and tall, smiling joyfully into the camera.
I drape myself over him, cocking my hip out so the dress falls away and reveals my inner thigh. I turn away from Hayden to show off my back, then look over my shoulder at the camera. I lay my arm over Angel’s shoulder, then lean in to press a kiss to his cheek.
The photoshoot lasts a full five minutes before Hayden is satisfied.
He hands my phone back to me, along with my glittering gold clutch, and hands Angel the faux fur mini-cape I’m wearing over my dress.
While Angel slips it over my shoulders, Hayden pins him with a stern glare.
“What time will you have him home?”
Angel’s eyes go wide and his jaw hangs open in surprise. “Uh, I, um…”
“Gurl, seriously? Don’t wait up.” I give Angel a smoldering look. “I’m not coming home tonight.”
Hayden chuckles as I drag Angel toward the door. “Beware of the spiked punch! ”
“I can bring you back after the wedding,” Angel says as he helps me down the stairs in my sexy-as-hell stilettos.
“We can come back here if you want, but I intend on sleeping in the same bed as you tonight, teddy bear.”
He shoots me a shy, but pleased, smile, then tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow to lead me out to his truck. He managed to find a spot not too far away, and gentleman that he is, he opens my door and lifts me up into the cab. Then he waits for me to finish arranging myself before shutting the door and racing around to the driver’s side.
I keep up the chatter all the way back to Staten Island—how the 12 Toys of Christmas project is going, how our second video is doing after it dropped a few days ago, some drama among the drag queens at The Bronzed Rail. But even with all that, I can’t help the nervousness that grows the closer we get to the wedding.
It’s one thing to say “fuck them” when we’re tucked safely away in bed. It’s another thing entirely to show up as a couple, dressed like this, and feel the weight of all those stares. It’s not something I’d ever voluntarily put myself through, but I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about Angel.
Obviously, I’ll draw a lot more attention than he will, but I’ve got years of experience with being in the spotlight—whether I wanted to or not.
Angel doesn’t have the same armor I have. He’s always been accepted as one of the guys. He’s been a member of their fiercely protective community since the day he was born. He’s never stepped outside their circle, never challenged who they thought he was.
Neither of us knows how they’ll react. Stares and whispers would be the least-bad outcome. Things could get so much worse than that.
Am I doing the right thing? Dragging him into the spotlight with me? Wouldn’t he be better off blending into the background like he always has? It would be safer and easier for him to quietly slip away, leave the neighborhood without making an announcement.
But it wouldn’t be honest. And if nothing else, Angel is honest. My respect for him, my love for him, is that much stronger because of it.
Whatever happens, I’ll be there to protect him. I’ll be there to pick up the pieces and bandage up any wounds.
We pull into the parking lot of the local Catholic church. It’s the same one everyone in the neighborhood goes to, including my family on Christmas and Easter. We’ve arrived at the same time as everyone else, and the truck creeps forward as guests dart around us.
I recognize a lot of the faces. Neighbors. Classmates. Cousin’s uncle’s third wife. Most of these people knew me as Dina’s boy, the queer one. And back then, they didn’t use that term the way I use it now.
Angel parks the truck and I force myself to take a deep breath. My heart is beating way faster than normal and my stomach is all tied up in knots. I wasn’t this anxious when I went to Dad’s birthday party at the end of the summer. This is basically the same crowd. So why am I all twisted up and panicky now?
Angel shuts off the engine and turns to face me. “Sweetheart?” The alarm is evident in his voice.
“I’m fine,” I squeak. I’ve done this before. I can totally do this. I’m fine .
Angel takes both of my hands in his. “We don’t have to go in. We can go back to my place. Or back to yours. Wherever you want.”
I shake my head. “No. No running away. Not anymore.”
I meet Angel’s gaze and let myself take comfort in all the emotions I see flitting across his face. Concern, understanding, fear, and love. So much love.
“I left when I was eighteen?—”
“Because this wasn’t a welcoming place for you,” Angel interjects on my behalf.
“It wasn’t, you’re right. And that was the right thing for me to do at the time. But now, I don’t need to run anymore. And I don’t want to make you feel like you need to run. We should be able to be ourselves, no matter what anyone else thinks.”
Angel gives me a decisive nod. His lips tighten into a firm line and his eyes take on a steel glint. “I’ll protect you.”
A laugh bubbles up in me, a mix of joy and self-pity. He wants to protect me, and here I am, thinking I’m going to protect him.
“We’ll protect each other.”
He lifts my hands and plants a kiss on the back of each. “We’ll protect each other.”