Chapter 30
Trevor
“Healing all right?” my uncle asks.
I nod, finishing off my breakfast before touching one of my freshly pierced ears. “Fine. You’re up early.”
He shrugs, plopping down on the couch in the living room. I bring my dish and silverware to the washer before joining him.
“Everything okay?”
He waves me off. “Yeah, yeah. You know, I’ve been thinking I might take a week of vacation. Go visit those botanical gardens your mom loved. The zoo, maybe. It’s been a while since I’ve had time off.”
I raise an eyebrow. More like never. I can’t remember my uncle ever taking more than a day off here or there for a doctor’s appointment or because one of us was sick. He’s definitely overdue. I’m just surprised he’s finally acknowledging it.
“You deserve a week or two,” I agree.
He hums, meeting my gaze steadily. “Funniest thing. But lately, there’s been a little more money in my bank account. Less grocery bills. Rent that got paid ahead of time by someone who wasn’t me. Don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
I huff quietly. “Just doing my part.”
“Uh-huh. Do I need to be concerned about where you’re getting the cash? You know I trust you, peque, but your cleaning job doesn’t pay that much. And, as far as I can tell, you haven’t been taking on extra shifts at the bar.”
I nod to myself. Now is as good a time as any to come clean to my uncle. Not that I’m worried, per se, about how he’ll react. But how do you tell the man who raised you that you’ve been supplementing your income with porn?
Leaning back, I find the words to start. “If I told you I’ve had some success in the…adult entertainer industry, and that I plan on carrying that success into a full-time career, how would you feel about that?”
My uncle holds my eye for the longest moment. “You’re being safe?”
I nod.
“And Isaac knows?”
I nod again.
“All right,” he says, gears clearly working.
“I suppose I would say you’re someone who’s always known his mind.
That you have a good head on your shoulders.
So if this is something you want to do, I’ll support you any way I can.
With…minimal details on your part, please. I don’t need to know the specifics.”
I chuckle, my chest feeling warm. “Of course. I love you, Raf.”
“Fuck, kid.” Rafael leans over enough to affectionately shove my arm, letting out a sigh afterwards, like maybe he’s realizing he doesn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore.
I’m glad I can take some of that weight.
“There’s one more thing,” I say while I have my uncle’s attention. “That empty spot on my back. I have an idea for it.”
He perks up. “Yeah? Tell me.”
So I do, explaining in detail the tattoo concept I have while Rafael listens intently. We work out a time for me to visit the shop as a client, and then I get ready to head to campus.
A text comes through as I’m stepping out the door, my backpack over my shoulder.
Lumi: Do you have a half hour to meet before class? Coffee on me.
Curious, I type out my reply.
Me: Sure. Where at?
Lumi gives me the name of a coffee shop not far from her dorm, and I set off to meet her. She’s inside when I arrive, a to-go cup between her hands. She nods in greeting, and I head her way.
“Let me grab you a drink first,” she says. “What’ll you have?”
My lips quirk. “Hazelnut latte.”
Lumi returns before long, sliding the latte my way across the table. I give her a moment to bring up whatever it is she came here to.
“Isaac told us about his birthday,” she finally says, her gaze on me steady. “He’s never let us celebrate it. Not once. Neither Todd nor I even knew when his birthday was until last year.”
“February 15th,” I say quietly.
She nods.
“I feel like I should tell you I knew beforehand,” I admit. “I saw it on his license.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replies, shaking her head. “You…got him to open up faster than either of his best friends could. You know him, Trevor. He’s sharing himself with you. Because he feels safe.”
Lumi pauses, twirling her cup.
“You don’t need my approval. I know that. But I hope, twenty years from now, thirty, that I still know you. I’m on your side, all right? Because you’re on his. I guess that’s what I wanted you to know.”
I hold out my hand. With a snort, Lumi clasps her palm with mine. “Team Isaac?” I say.
“Team Isaac,” she agrees, letting me go. Her expression shifts into something more mischievous. “By the way…the pillow?”
I laugh at her waggling eyebrows before taking a sip of my drink, my way of pleading the fifth.
She shakes her head again. “Do you have a team set up already for when you go pro?”
“Realistically, I need the studio space first, and that might take a while. I’ve been making a few connections with possible performers, but that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
She nods thoughtfully. “You already have the logistics worked out, though, right? All the business aspects, legalities, et cetera?”
“I do.”
“So you just need a crew. There’s this guy in my drama club you might want to talk to. He has a real knack for composition. And considering I caught him blowing the theater’s sound engineer in the rafters last month, there’s a good chance he might be interested in the job.”
“Yeah? What’s his name?”
“Jerome,” Lumi says. “Do you want his number?”
I nod, and she reads the digits aloud for me to enter into my phone.
After thanking her, Lumi leans back in her seat, a small smile on her face that’s anything but innocent. “Can I ask a personal question?”
I wave her on.
Dropping her voice, she says, “How long is it? Nine? Ten inches?”
I bark a laugh that has Lumi looking amused. It takes me a long, long time to answer her, my chuckles going on for a good minute. Finally, I get out a response. “Ten and three-quarters.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” she whisper-shouts, hands slapping the table. “And Isaac can take that? No, you don’t have to answer me. He’s told me enough details. My God. That little shit. Good for him.”
Lumi dissolves into her own laughter.
“Fuck,” she says again, tears in her eyes that she wipes away. “I always knew he had it in him.”
“Quite literally,” I agree.
That sets Lumi off again.
She leaves the coffee shop before me, needing to get to her own class.
I stay a while longer, checking my most recent project grades on my laptop.
My professor has been surprisingly even-tempered with me ever since it was proved I didn’t cheat in his class.
He’s not warm by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s lost the judgmental gaze every time I step into his lecture hall.
And I’ve stopped wearing turtlenecks to his class, done trying to cater to anyone else’s opinions of my person.
Now, when I wear a turtleneck, it’s because I want to. Isaac’s smile sure is a nice bonus, too.
I’m just tossing my to-go cup into the trash when my phone starts to ring. I don’t recognize the number, so I let the call go to voicemail. Ten seconds later, my phone rings again.
Outside the coffee shop, I stop on the sidewalk and answer. “Hello?”
“Trevor Slade.”
The voice has me stilling. “Mr. Newport?”
“There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” Isaac’s dad says, his tone giving nothing away. “This afternoon if you’re free.”
“I can make time,” I say slowly, not bothering to ask how the man got my number. I’m sure he has his ways.
“Two o’clock? I’ll send a car for you.”
“No offense, Mr. Newport, but I’m not getting in a vehicle I don’t know. I can meet you.”
He lets out a breath before naming a park in the city. When I hang up, I let my heart rate come down, then head for my late-morning class.
The park isn’t empty when I arrive, but very few people are out walking the paths. I make my way around slowly, spotting Mr. Newport on a bench during my second circuit.
He waits as I approach, eyeing the park as I was, a café bag beside him.
I sit, neither of us speaking for a long moment.
“Is this about Isaac?” I finally ask, not caring if I’m breaking some sort of unspoken rule about gaining the upper hand in conversation. Frankly, I couldn’t care less what Mr. Newport thinks of me.
“In a way,” he says, removing his sunglasses. I have the thought, once again, that his eyes are so very different from Isaac’s, despite being a similar shade of blue. “I have an offer for you, Mr. Slade. One you’d be smart to think over.”
My pulse hitches before taking off. I don’t let my expression change, even as I say, “Go on.”
It’s a half hour later when I leave the park the same way I came, a café bag in my hand. Once I’m inside my vehicle, I toss the bag onto the passenger seat and sit behind the wheel for what feels like a lifetime. Finally, I pull onto the road.
Isaac’s car is parked at his rental house when I arrive. I knock on the back door, the one that leads into the kitchen. Todd opens it, his grin falling slightly when he sees my face. “Everything okay?”
“Is Isaac here?” I ask, knowing he may still be on campus with his bike.
After a second, Todd nods. “Yeah. Come in. He was in his room last I saw.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, squeezing his arm before heading toward the stairs.
Isaac’s door is shut. I knock once, waiting for him to call me in before twisting the knob.
He grins when he sees me, much as Todd had. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over. Did you text?”
Isaac grabs his phone, checking his messages before I can answer him. I take a seat on his bed, beside a textbook that Isaac shoves aside. He seems to realize something is wrong because a frown draws his brows together.
His eyes sweep over me, assessing. “What is it? You’re being especially quiet.”
I let out a heavy breath, the first one I feel like I’ve taken since I sat down beside Isaac’s father on that bench. “You were right. About money mattering to some people.”
Isaac’s hand is warm as he tugs my chin around, forcing me to look at him square on. “Trevor?”
“I saw your dad today.”
He sucks in a short breath. “And?”
“And… He offered me a hell of a lot of money to cut things off with you. To tell you I’m done.”
Isaac’s bottom lip starts to shake, even as he does his absolute best to keep his expression impassive. “You took it?”
“Yes,” I answer. “You told me to, so I did, even as every fiber of my being wanted to tell that man where he could shove his stacks of thousands.”
Isaac’s other hand comes up to frame my face, his inhale shaky. “How much?”
“Isaac…”
“Trevor,” he says more firmly. “Tell me how much money my dad deems is a worthy exchange for keeping his son miserable and alone.”
I tug Isaac into my lap, burying my face in his neck. He runs his fingers along my nape and through my hair.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, trying to reassure me.
“It’s not. It’s horrible.”
“Yes, he is,” Isaac agrees of his father. “But now I know for certain. How much, Trevor?”
I blow out a ragged breath. “Enough to rent a studio for a year at minimum. Possibly two.”
“You should have asked for more.”
My laugh is pained. “I did. I got him up fifty percent from his initial offer. He had to run to the bank to get more cash.”
Isaac shakes against me, his lips pressing to the side of my head before he leans back enough to catch my eye. His are red but void of tears. “I’m done with him.”
“He’s going to find out we’re still together,” I point out.
“Let him. You’ll put that money in a secure account where he can’t touch it. He’s always been overconfident. He deserves to lose the cash. And he deserves to lose me.”
“Red,” I say softly, knowing how much this must hurt despite his outward calm. “I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head a little. “I’m not. He’s going to be the reason you get your business off the ground.”
“At what expense? Your feelings matter to me more than business.”
His sigh is gentle, his smile slight. “This has been a long time coming. I’ve felt overlooked and outright disregarded by my dad since I was a kid. The way he treats me… He sees it as doing what he thinks is best. But it’s not best for me. And I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t have to put up with it.”
I hug Isaac tight. “You’re amazing.”
“And you’re about to be a star. Your cock will be famous, known by queer guys…and probably gals…everywhere. How does it feel?”
Suspecting Isaac needs a reprieve from thinking about his father, I smile softly. “You tell me, brat. It’s your cock, isn’t it?”
“Oh fuck,” he mutters.
“Your man, your boyfriend, yours. All of it.”
“Jesus, Trevor.” Vibrant blue eyes trace over my face as Isaac pulls in a breath. “I think you might have been made for me.”
“I think I’ll spend a very long time proving it if you let me.”
He nips my bottom lip before his mouth presses solidly to mine. Hands in my hair, he tugs me back an inch. “You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me. Not to others.”
I hum, Isaac’s weight on my lap the greatest comfort. “It may take time, you know. Porn empires aren’t born overnight.”
Isaac huffs gently. “‘Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.’”
“I very much doubt Emerson was talking about careers in inspirational video storytelling when he said that.”
Isaac’s laugh is louder this time. “I have every faith in you. You’ll need a name, you know. For your empire. What do you think you’ll call it?”
My lips twitch as Isaac’s fingertips trace over the tattoos on my neck. “I think I know the perfect thing.”