Chapter 33
Talon
Once the show starts, I release Zeke’s hand. Not because I want to, but because he’s so enthralled, he’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching the performance with an intensity I’ve never possessed as a spectator.
Although the performance is incredible, I have much more fun watching him instead of the actors down below.
When the curtains close, Zeke is out of his seat in an instant, clapping enthusiastically. I hate to be a buzzkill, but I’ve got something else planned for him, and we can’t linger.
Tugging his hand, I yell, “Come with me,” over the noise of the crowd.
“But we haven’t seen the final bow!” he cries, waving a hand toward the stage.
“I know. I thought maybe you’d want to see it from backstage.”
His eyes grow wide, and he practically pushes me out of our row.
I grab our coats from the usher, and we make our way downstairs, through the doors labeled Cast and Crew Only, and then, just as we’re about to enter the darkened wings of the stage, Zeke stops abruptly.
“It’s okay, the main curtain is drawn. We won’t be seen,” I reassure him, but he just continues staring blankly at the stage in front of us. When I move to grab his hand, he flinches and pulls away, but not before I feel how clammy his skin is. “Zeke, what’s wrong?”
Slowly, his gaze meets mine, and for a few terrifying seconds, I’m afraid his earlier statement of there being ‘so much’ also means that there’s been ‘too much’. Like I’m too much.
Am I coming on too strong?
Is this the trade-off?
I finally find someone who wants me more than they want my money, but my money makes them uncomfortable? I really thought we were moving past that.
The cast is going to be exiting to our side of the stage any second. If Zeke is overwhelmed now, it’s about to get a helluva lot worse.
Without touching him, I tell him to follow me as I find a dark corner behind a storage rack to buy us a moment of privacy. It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.
“What’s going on? Talk to me,” I plead.
“This is the first time I’ve been backstage on a set since…” he trails off, and it hits me like a ton of bricks.
“Since your opening night.”
The night Derek beat Zeke black and blue.
He nods.
“Fuck, Zeke, I’m so sorry. Can I hug you?” I ask, needing to feel his chest rise and fall against mine. He doesn’t even finish nodding before I’m cradling him in my arms. He was so excited about the play. I thought if there was an issue, it would’ve happened al—
“He beat me on the stage that night,” Zeke whispers, clinging to me with renewed desperation. “After you left.”
“What?” I choke out through my grinding molars.
“He wanted to ruin the thing I loved the most, so he walked me next door.” Zeke’s barely making a sound as he forces the words out.
It hurts like hell to hear, but I’ll be damned if I interrupt him.
“No one was there but the cleaners, and they were in the main lobby by then. All the lights were off. We were alone. He accused me of sleeping with you, and when I told him it wasn’t true, he beat me onstage behind the curtain before taking me home and finishing the job. ”
Nausea sweeps through me.
“Ohmygod, baby, I’m so fucking sorry. I will spend my whole fucking life trying to make up for that. I should’ve kept my distance. No, fuck that,” I growl. “I should’ve taken you with me.” I rub his back, wishing like hell we were back in the penthouse right now, far away from this scene.
“You didn’t know. I never wanted you to find out. I mean, I wanted to be with you, so I guess on some level, he wasn’t wrong.”
“That doesn’t give him the right to lay a single fucking finger on you, Zeke,” I say through teeth clenched so hard my jaw aches.
“He tried to make me suck his dick, but I told him I was leaving him instead. I knew there was a chance he’d kill me after that, but I wanted him to know.
Your strength burrowed into my very bones by coming to the theater that night.
You made me believe I could be more than a homeless orphan with no college degree, who whored himself out for room and board. ”
“Hey,” I say more forcefully than I probably should. “That’s not who you are. That’s what you went through at the hands of people who should have cared for you.”
Pulling back, I cup his face, and his tears are damn near ending me, so I swipe them away with my thumbs.
“Let’s go home,” I tell him.
“Wait. Can we stay a few more minutes? I don’t want to be chased out by his memory. If I am, it feels like I never left him, like I’ve made no progress, like he still has the power to take from me.”
“Baby, I’ll do anything you want.” I debate whether to say the next part, but I realized a while ago that keeping things from Zeke isn’t the way to gain or keep his trust. “And just so you know your options, the director here tonight is a friend of mine. She agreed to allow you an audition for her next show if you want it. It’ll most likely be a small part to get your feet wet, and I can only promise the audition.
The rest is up to you, and whatever follows will be on your own merits.
You don’t have to decide now, but she’s willing to meet you tonight, which is why we’re back here.
There will be other chances if you’re not ready, though,” I add quickly.
Zeke takes his glasses off and wipes his eyes.
“I h-hate cr-crying,” he sniffles.
Running my hand over his hair, I can’t help the truth that escapes.
“Even when you cry, you’re so goddamn beautiful it hurts.”
“I think you might be b-biased,” he says.
“Not biased. Just not blind, either.”
“I’d like to meet her,” Zeke says, blowing out a breath, placing his glasses back on his face. “I will not let Derek diminish my dreams or rob me of my future.” The resolve in his voice makes me so damn proud.
“But…won’t her show be months from now? How am I supposed to rehearse for a show in New York when I live in Montana?”
“Maybe…” I trail off, knowing it’s too soon.
But is it?
I fucking love Zeke.
I’m in love with him.
I’ve waited my whole life for him, and nothing awaits him back in Montana. He’s meant for bigger things. He’s meant for this city.
“Maybe what?” he asks.
“Maybe you should move to New York. With me.” I gain speed as I try to sell this idea to him before he can find a reason not to do it.
“We’re already living together. I have to leave Montana soon, and I can’t breathe when I think about you not coming with me.
This city is where you belong, Zeke. On that stage.
Just like you’ve always dreamed. Move in with me.
You can sign up for acting classes, do open calls, whatever you want… just stay with me. Please.”
The next second lasts an eternity.
“Okay,” he finally whispers in shock, making all my dreams come true.
I was certain after the long, emotional day he’s had, Zeke would want me to call the car for the two-mile walk back to the penthouse, but he was adamant that he wanted to walk.
He seems largely unaffected by the freezing temperatures, and like me, he draws energy from the constant buzz of the city around us.
Well, that, and I think he’s still riding a bit of a high from meeting Ginger, who fell head over heels for Zeke the second she saw him.
He apologized for his emotional response upon meeting her, and she’d said, ‘If you can bring that level of vulnerability and emotion to the stage, Love, I’ll give you any role you want. ’
It was a wonderful end to a night I almost unintentionally derailed, and seeing Zeke so happy right now gives me wings.
We stop to take selfies in front of the theater, and a very nice elderly lady offers to take our picture.
Zeke sends a quick glance at the woman who is smiling at us, patiently waiting for us to get into position before he places one arm at my waist and puts his other hand on my chest, leaning into me.
It reminds me of a prom picture, which makes me offer a genuine smile to the camera.
“I like it when you’re close,” I mumble into his hair as the picture is taken.
She hands my phone back and goes on her way, bidding us a good night, and Zeke and I start to make our way home.
“I’m really proud of you,” I tell him. “I don’t mean to bring it up again, but do you want to talk about what happened tonight?”
Despite the cold, we walk slowly, hand in hand, amidst the bustling city. The night conceals us, but the city lights energize us and provide shadows for us to hide in, physically and metaphorically, if we need them.
“What happened is that I healed a little more,” Zeke says. “Every time I push through the fear he created in me, I’m lighter. And you’re there, filling the space I once allowed him to occupy. Filling it with kindness, goodness, and a love I still don’t feel worthy of, but I’m trying.”
I swallow hard, afraid that if a tear escapes, it’ll freeze on my face.
We talk the whole way home, and when I let us into the penthouse, it’s close to midnight, but I’m not ready to sleep.
“Do you want a drink or anything?” I ask, shrugging out of my jacket. I had thought about wearing a suit, but wanted to dress similarly to Zeke so he wouldn’t feel underdressed or overdressed. In the end, I put on gray slacks and a black button-down.
Zeke is eyeing said button-down now as I flip on the lights and hit the switch that frosts the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows in my living room.
“I was actually thinking I’d like something else,” Zeke says slowly. The tone of his voice makes me pause as heat pools low in my stomach, and my dick goes on alert.
“Anything.” I breathe the word more than I actually say it.
“Do you think…I mean, would you want…”
Zeke’s nerves have me next to him instantly.
“I want everything. Whatever it is, the answer’s yes,” I tell him.
When I’m this close, he has to tilt his head back to meet my eyes, and I’m struck again by how gorgeous he is.
“Can I…I mean, can we…” His eyes dart around the room until I cup his jaw and run my thumb across his bottom lip, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Will you let me fuck you?”
My desire to experience this with him makes my knees buckle.
“Yes.”
Since accepting my physical attraction to Zeke, I’ve done some research. A lot of research, actually. In case we ever crossed this bridge, I didn’t want all the pressure to fall on him to know what the hell was going on.
As a man, I already have a leg up on generally knowing what feels good and what doesn’t, but after Zeke admitted—and rightly so—that being on the receiving end may not be something he ever wants to experience again, I knew this role would belong to me.
And I’m more than ready.