He sank into the water, floating close. He needed to touch, to be there with Kyle, to connect.
Kyle drew him in, tracing fingers over his skin and through his hair and whispering to him in soft tones, “I’m not going anywhere, love. Settle in. Breathe, baby.”
“Sorry. I just….” He needed to be held. Kyle had liked to break him.
“Shh. No. Not sorry. Let me hold you, okay? It’s good. It’s perfect.” Kyle kissed him, gentle and slow. “Let me take care of you.”
He put one hand on the center of Kyle’s chest, feeling the strong, steady heartbeat. Lord have mercy, he loved this beautiful son of a bitch.
Kyle cupped a hand around his and just stayed quiet, the two of them indulging in the water’s warmth and in each other. For a long while the only sound in the room was the music of their breathing and the rhythm of the bubbling water.
He sent a prayer of thanks up, for this moment, for this feeling, for this man.
Finally, Kyle reached over and refilled the wineglass from the bottle on the edge of the tub. After taking a long sip, Kyle offered him the glass. “Have some, love. Share it with me.”
“Mmm. Thank you.” He sipped, his eyes going heavy at the way the wine coated his tongue.
Kyle watched him, taking the glass back when he was done. “Tired? Should I take you to bed?”
Colt had the sneaking suspicion that he’d follow Kyle anywhere he wanted to go. “I’m easy, cher. I jus’ want to be with you.”
“Let’s sit here awhile, then. Finish the wine. See if you get silly.” Kyle winked at him. “And I’ll find the closest guy and make out with him.”
9
Kyle finishedlaying out his shoes on his dressing table carefully, in the order that he would use them, heels all lined up in a perfectly straight line. Without needing to think about it at all, he moved on to the next part of his preshow ritual and laid out paper towels and his makeup brushes, also in the order he would use them.
He had his iPod on, his Diet Coke next to the mirror, and was wearing his silver satin robe as he sat down and got to work.
On the far end of the table was a bouquet of flowers from Katie. His sister never forgot an opening night, even when she couldn’t be there. She’d be the only one of his siblings—of his entire family—to know or care, but at least he had the one. He wouldn’t complain.
But even better than the familiar comfort of Katie’s bright gerbera daisies was the exciting, surprise vase of roses from Colt. Jake had hand-delivered them, which meant that Colt had arrived and was somewhere in the theater. Knowing his lover was there made him smile.
He broke ritual long enough to read the card for the third time, touched and grateful that he’d been made that kind of priority. “You got this, cher,” the note read, and he smiled. He did. The company was ready, he was ready, but Colt’s confident words steadied him and helped the opening-night nerves dissolve to a low simmer.
He put on his makeup, only being interrupted by Jake calling time. Right on schedule he finished his makeup, put the brushes away, and went for his tour of the stage.
He was standing center-center as Jake gave the five-minute call. He touched his fingers to his lips and then bent over, touching them to the mark.
“Merde,” he said out loud as the rest of the company joined him onstage and the dance captain gave her opening-night pep talk. Nearly everyone touched the center mark as well on their way to places.
“Merde!” Jake said to him and shook his hand, the last piece of his ritual. Now he had his focus.
The next couple of hours were an intense and wonderful blur of music, dancers, applause, and finally, curtain calls. He realized that he hadn’t firmed up with Colt the after-show plans, and he hoped his lover wouldn’t wait for him in the lobby but would know to just come backstage. The perk of being a significant other.
When he got back to his dressing room, though, there was a note on his dressing table. He picked it up and opened it. “Son,” it read. “Your mother and I saw this evening’s performance and are waiting in the lobby to see you. Dad.”
Well, the note was signed “Dad” and not “Mr. Alexander,” so he wasn’t being disowned. Yet. His hands started to shake. His parents were here? They stayed for the whole thing? He picked up a bottle of water and sat down hard in his chair.
His phone buzzed, the vibrations catching his attention, and he grabbed it. There was a text from Colt.
So good. So goddamn good. Tell me how to see you?
Oh, shit. His parents were going to hate Colt. He grinned at that and texted Colt back.
The flowers were inspiring! Hit the stage door. Jake will let you through.
He drank the water down while he waited in the dressing room doorway for Colt, wondering what the hell his parents could possibly want from him and why they didn’t tell him they were here before the show. Something was up.