25. Ari
TWENTY-FIVE
ARI
After the show, Jesse runs off stage like there’s an emergency. We don’t always do an encore, but for a larger crowd we usually do.
“Where’s the fire?” I ask.
Will snorts, “In his pants.”
I laugh, but then sure enough, by the time we make it backstage, there are some very obvious sounds coming from the dressing room.
“Are you fucking serious?” I whisper-shout through my laughter. “They couldn’t have gone somewhere less conspicuous? What if we needed to get in there?”
Behind the door, someone grunts loudly, then something crashes. Then there’s the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, clear as day.
“Jesus, they’re really fucking going at it,” Naz says.
It’s so loud, there’s nothing that could hide what’s happening in there. I flag over Cory and Tad, but before I can even say anything, a barely muffled, “Oh, Fuck! Luc!” is heard through the door.
Cory rolls his lips in and nods understandingly. He and Tad give each other a knowing look and turn around in sync, blocking the door. Tad pulls out his phone and starts playing some music. As long as no one gets as close as we are to this door, they should be good.
We head off to the backstage area to meet and greet with some VIPs, giggling about Jesse and his easy-access pants.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” I snicker.
“Hopefully not too long,” Naz says under his breath. “Because here comes Daddy Blake.”
The three of us break into a fit of laughter, practically wheezing when Blake scowls at us and asks where Jesse is.
“I think he’s, um?—”
“He needed a wardrobe check,” Will finishes for me. “There was a pants emergency.”
Blake looks exasperated and walks away muttering, “I told him not to wear those fucking pants.”
We’re still laughing when we enter the lounge to get ready for the backstage meet and greet. A couple minutes later, Jesse runs in, red-faced and sweaty, with the biggest, most insane-looking grin on his face, and we all start up again.
Will leans over to me, lowering his voice. “Is it really that good?”
“What?”
His face turns almost as red as Jesse’s. “Anal.”
I sputter and nearly choke, but then the doors open, and I have to pull myself together to face a line of excited fans.
A couple of hours later, Will, Naz, and I are approached by an entertainment reporter on our way to our car. Jesse and Luc are leaving through a different exit with Blake to make sure Luc isn’t seen.
The reporter asks if we’ve seen the most recent comments from the president and other politicians trying to discredit us for being “immoral”.
Will’s answer is perfect. “Apparently we’ve struck a nerve with a certain platform that has been outspoken and active in a vendetta against diversity in this country.”
“Why do you think that is?” the reporter asks.
“I think it’s because they’re afraid. They’re afraid because we’re encouraging people to stand up for their neighbors and fellow citizens in a country that was designated as the world’s melting pot.
They know the changes they’re making with the legislation they’re pushing, and their agenda sliding our country back decades is not what the people want.
They want to distract you from the truth, and we want you to pay attention. What do you think that says?”
“And what about the rumors that are being spread about you all personally?”
Zane steps in and lifts a hand. “No further comments. Please, these guys worked hard and put on a great show tonight. Let’s give them some room.”
“Okay, that was hot,” I mutter under my breath when Naz is in the car.
I high-key love it when Will gets passionate about things, and ever since our charity concert in New Orleans struck such a chord, he’s been even more fired up than usual.
Between watching him respond to the reporter and his question after overhearing Jesse’s fuckfest, I am more than ready to get back to the hotel.
Will turns and winks before sinking down to climb in next to Naz.
“Alright, where are we headed to?” Naz asks once I’ve climbed into the car. It’s one of those stretch SUVs with the seats facing each other.
I eye Naz, then flick my gaze to Will, hoping he’ll understand that the name of the game tonight is to get somewhere private as soon as possible.
“I dunno, man?—”
“Whatthefuckever, dude. We haven’t gone out in weeks. And don’t try to punk out with some I’m tired bullshit. Let me remind you all that my room is the closest room to Jesse’s, so I’m not exactly getting a whole lot of sleep this trip.”
Will looks at me with a hopeless expression, and I shrug, resigning myself to a much longer night than I had planned.
“What’d you have in mind?” I ask Naz.
“Yes!” Naz exclaims, pointing at me. “This is why you’re my favorite.”
“What?” Will protests. “That’s not what you said on Halloween.”
“I said a lot of shit on Halloween, man. And so did you.” He gives me a pointed look, to which I roll my eyes.
“I already ‘fessed up, so you can’t use that shit against me.”
Naz’s jaw drops. “And you’re still alive?” He asks while looking at me with wide eyes.
“For now,” I say pointedly. “He still has a lot of groveling to do.”
Will’s eyes darken, and his lips press into a thin line.
“Damn, son. That almost sounded… Never mind.” Naz shakes his head. “Does that mean we can go to a gay club then?”
“You act like we don’t go to gay clubs ninety-eight percent of the time,” Will says with a scoff.
“You never seem to have a problem scoring,” I point out, hoping it’s not too obvious how much it always bothered me.
Will is probably the hottest man I’ve ever seen in real life.
He’s tall and broad, defined without being bulky, and he always manages to have the slightest bit of a farmer’s tan, which for whatever reason, is the sexiest thing to me.
Maybe it’s all those angsty teen years I spent watching him work a landscaping job.
There’s something easy about the way he holds himself, like he can’t be bothered to care what anyone thinks of him.
He attracts people without ever trying. Women and men alike flock to him, although he’s never been interested in men that I’ve noticed.
Except for me, apparently.
I have so many questions about when it started and why. Am I the only man he’s ever been interested in? He’s not the kind of straight to get tied up over feeling attracted to another man. What was it he said that one time?
“I’m not scared or freaked out by getting turned on by a guy, Ari. I’m scared because I’m turned on by you.”
He certainly seems less afraid now.
Spinning thoughts cloud my mind until we pull up to the club.
There’s a line around front, but we’re let in through the back and led directly to the upstairs VIP lounge.
Once we’re settled into a large, round booth, a waiter comes by with some glasses and a pitcher of ice water.
I don’t miss the way his eyes track down Will’s body as he introduces himself and asks us what we’d like to drink.
Will, of course, flirts with the guy as he puts in an order for the table.
I’m not even sure he knows that he’s doing it.
It’s just that he only has two modes—flirty or pissed off.
When he’s on a soapbox about something, he’s a little of both.
Across the table, I catch Scott watching me.
The way he quirks his lips and winks makes me think he hasn’t told Naz what he almost walked in on earlier today, and that he might actually keep it to himself.
Then again, the way he looks at Naz, I don’t think he’d lie if questioned.
As long as Will and I can be cool enough to not give ourselves away, there should be no reason we can’t keep whatever is happening between us under wraps until we’re ready to decide otherwise.
Then again, we’re talking about hiding something pretty big from the two people who know us best. They’re bound to notice a change when we’ve spent the last eight months giving each other the cold shoulder.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Will asks me, leaning into my space to talk into my ear.
My eyes flick over to Naz, but he’s distracted by Scott. Eric and Zane are in a separate table next to ours, casually observing anyone who gets too close without making it obvious that they’re guarding us.
“Are you still afraid?”
If Will is surprised by my question, he doesn’t show it, only cocks his head and thinks about it while giving the rest of our party an assessing glance, much in the same way I just did. No one seems to be paying us any mind.
“Honestly?” He starts, biting his lip and giving me his version of a sheepish smile. “I’m terrified. But Ezra has helped me come to terms with a lot of the thoughts and feelings that I’ve been wrestling with for a long time, and?—”
Will is cut off by the return of the cute waiter, who said his name was Kai.
Kai passes out a round of drinks, stretching his lithe little body over the table to reach me and Will at the back of the booth, letting us know that he mixed our drinks himself and he would be so happy to get us absolutely anything else we need.
I don’t think anyone at the table missed the way he looked directly at Will when he said it.
Will grins and thanks him by name, of course.
“It’s my pleasure,” Kai assures him. “I’m a big fan.”
Of course he is. Honestly, who wouldn’t be?
I’m a big fan myself, which is why I can’t really blame him for trying.
So instead of trying to chase him off like I might have in the past, I busy myself with my drink and watching the dance floor below.
It’s packed down there, and it’s dark. Dark enough that I wonder if we might get away with getting lost in the crowd.
Kai ends up leaving to get me a second drink when mine disappears much quicker than I intended. When he drops it off, he doesn’t linger, allowing me to encourage Will to keep talking.
“You were saying?”