by Kenzi Bond
John-Henry appeared beside them. “Hey, guys, is everything okay?” Seeing how upset Dean was, he reached for his hand. “Dean, talk to me. What happened?”
John-Henry looked around and noticed the crowd holding cameras. His concerned face drew into a frown. “Don’t you people have anything better to do?”
“Aww, come on, John-Henry. Don’t be greedy. We all know you’ve been the meat in the Xavier sandwich. Why else would you hang around them so much?” Anthony yelled.
In a haze of fury, Beau lunged toward Anthony. There was a blur of red as someone moved between them, stopping Beau in his tracks.
He watched in surprise as Gavin grabbed Anthony by the shirt and shoved him toward the door. “You’re nothing but a piece of shit, Tony. You and your brother are out.” Anthony struggled to break free, but Gavin had size and strength on his side. While Gavin had Anthony in hand, John-Henry was pushing Glen toward the door, too.
“Don’t step foot on this property again,” he growled, giving one final push so Glen stumbled over the doorstep with his brother. He slammed the door in their faces.
John-Henry turned toward the partygoers. “That goes for everyone here. If you can’t be polite, you can get out. Beau and Dean are my friends, and if you have a problem with them, you have a problem with me.”
Gavin cracked his knuckles. “I second that. Now stop gawking. This isn’t a show for your enjoyment.”
Beau and Dean stared at them in shock. They had never had someone, aside from their older friends, stand up for them like that.
“That was awesome! I can’t believe you threw them out,” Dean said.
“Why wouldn’t we? You’re our friends. We’re not going to stand by and let some lowlifes give you grief,” John-Henry said firmly. “Besides, I promised you a good time.”
Beau couldn’t think of what to say. He was so moved by their actions. He focused on Gavin and burst out laughing, the tension leaving his body. “Oh, my lord, look at Gav’s lips…”
Gavin must have been getting it on with the girl from earlier because he had green paint smeared all over his face.
John-Henry doubled over laughing. “Gavin, you should see your face,” he gasped out.
In confusion, Gavin ran his hand over his face and looked down at the green. Behind the paint, he blushed. Then he looked at them, grinning. “It was worth it.”
Beau caught the look on Dean’s face. Gone was the look of despair. Instead, he was relaxed and smiling. Beau was struck by the thought that it wasn’t him who had made Dean feel better; it was Gavin and John-Henry. He was moved by the idea that they were not alone. They had true friends.
“Please don’t go. Just give it another chance,” John-Henry said, turning back to Beau.
As they looked at each other, Beau saw the answer on Dean’s face. “We’ll stay. Wouldn’t want the bastards to win,” he said.
“Yeah, I want to dance some more. Who’s joining me?” Dean asked.
As a group, they made their way back to the dance floor. Maybe the night wasn’t ruined after all.
18
Drake
D
rake stared down at his phone, wondering if he should call the twins. His finger hovered over the number. It had taken less than an hour for Anthony and Glen Coleman to sell their story to a tabloid and for other attendees at the party to post their videos. Footage of the boys surfaced on everything from YouTube to talk shows and news channels. Headlines ranged from accusing Beau of being jealous that his brother was with another man to stories of wild orgies. Until now, the twins had remained silent. That was all going to change tonight when the boys were scheduled to go live on Ally Tonight.
He wanted to let the boys know that he and Mal were there for them. The boys had sent pictures of themselves at the party but hadn’t mentioned their run-in at all.
Malcolm, who had been working quietly in the room, slammed down the documents he was reading. “Will you stop staring at the phone? It’s bad enough the whole world has seen the clips. How do you think they will feel if they find out you’ve seen it, too?”
Dean glared at his brother. “Mal, are you serious? You expect me to not want to see what those bastards did to our boys? I want to go out and kill them for even looking at them. I…I need to know they’re alright,” he said, trying to explain.
Malcolm let out a growl of frustration. Running his hands through his hair, he stood up. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t concentrate, and I can’t work with you moping around all the time. Better yet, I’m going to send them a message.” Drake was grateful that they had finally exchanged phone numbers after the abduction.
Drake sat up and stared at his brother, surprised at the turn in events. “Fantastic. So what are we going to say?”
Malcolm stared into space for a minute. “How about we keep it simple. ‘You deserve better than the way the public treats you. Drake and I are here if you need our friendship. Call anytime if you need us.’ Should we ask how they’re doing?”
“No. You and I both know how they are feeling. They have just had something that should have been private plastered all over the place. Those little pricks cashed in on our boys’ pain and misery.”
Malcolm slammed his fist down on the desk. “If I had my way, I’d hunt them down and set them straight.”
Looked like they agreed on that topic. “Okay, Mal, let’s do this. You do realize you called them ‘our boys.’”
Not that Drake was complaining. He had come to terms with the fact that the boys had wormed their way into his heart. Especially Dean, who Drake had come to think of as his.
“Yeah, it’s time to admit the boys have a hold over us. I’m done resisting. You ready to make a move?”
Drake couldn’t help but grin. He hadn’t been interested in anyone since he’d met the boys. The staff had started calling him Monk. “Hell yes. I thought you would never admit the way you felt about Beau.”
Picking up the mobile, Malcolm raised a brow. “Did I really have to say it out loud?” He started to type.
Hi Beau & Dean
You are both twenty-one soon and Drake and I would like to take you on a date. A real date.
What do you think? Would you be interested?
Mal
Unable to sit still, Drake walked over to the minibar. “Want a beer?”
“Funny. You know I don’t drink that swill. Pour me a rum. It will most likely take a while for the boys—”
Just then, the phone dinged. Drake put down the bottle he was holding and raced over to look over Malcolm’s shoulder.
F off don’t need your pity
“Well, at least they responded,” Drake said, sounding nervous.
Malcolm typed a response, hitting the keys with his forefinger.
Don’t recall giving any. We are serious. We want to take you on a date. If you can’t read between the lines, we are done resisting how we feel. The ball’s in your court, boys.
The message came through just as quick.
We like balls… ;)
“That’s more like it,” Drake said.
“I’m done playing games,” Malcolm muttered.
Fair warning, when you turn twenty-one, Drake and I are coming for you. If that’s something you don’t want, you better say the word.
“Damn it, Mal, why did you have to say that? After everything they’ve been through, they’ll run a mile.”
The three little dots winked as the boys typed their response. Every now and then, the dots stopped, making Drake think they had finished typing. Finally, they had an answer.
Is that a promise?
Yes.
Then yes. We will go on a date. We’ll be waiting…
“Five months and three weeks,” he said. “Not long at all when you think of how long we’ve been waiting,” Malcolm said, referring to their birth date.
“Been thinking about this for a while, have you?” Drake asked.
“Yep, and I have the perfect idea of what to do for the next five
months to keep us busy. I think it’s time to do some major renovations to our home. I’m thinking two separate wings with main living areas in the middle. That way the boys can still live together but have their own space with each of us.” He went over to a cabinet and took out a scroll of architectural designs, spreading them out on the table.
“I’ve recently had these plans drawn up. What do you think?” he asked.
Drake was blown away with how much thought Malcolm had put into their living arrangements. He traced his fingers over the design, noticing the communal areas with separate wings. It was perfect, but would it be for nothing?
“Don’t you think this is going overboard? The boys may decide we are too old for them or find us boring. We haven’t even gone on a date and you have them living with us. Shouldn’t we think about it more? People will think we’re crazy.”
Malcolm looked up from the plans. “I’ve done nothing but think about it, them, the whole shebang. I’m going all in. I want them in our lives, and I’m not holding back. If they say no, then and only then will I back off. Anyway, let’s head home. Our boys are going to be live tonight, and I don’t want to miss them. Actually…” He reached for the phone.
Good luck tonight. If you get nervous, remember that Drake and I are watching and thinking of you.
Thanx xo
“Oh yeah, we’re totally hooked,” Drake said as he collected his bag. “Let’s go home. And bring the plans with you. I want to have a better look.”
19
Dean
D
ean stared at himself in the mirror as the makeup artist, Tom, applied the finishing touches. Tom was wearing a mix of masculine and feminine clothing, and Dean particularly liked the white blouse, with its frills and bows. Matched with loose-fitting, gray utility pants, the effect was stunning. Tom’s face was beautifully done in full makeup, including a fake beauty spot on his cheek.
He took Dean’s chin in his delicate hands and stared at Dean’s face in deep concentration. “People would kill for your skin tone and exotic features. Truly stunning,” he murmured. “Now, darling, when you go on stage, don’t let Ally scare you. She’s a lovely lady and will treat you fairly. I must say, I am honored to finally meet you and your brother in person. I know you must hate all the attention you receive, but I feel like I’ve watched you grow up over the years. Your daddies must be so proud. Do you want some lip gloss, honey?” Tom asked, running his finger along Dean’s bottom lip.
Tom hadn’t stopped talking since Dean had sat down in the chair, so it took a second to realize he’d asked a question. “Yes, please, and can you add some shadow and eyeliner?”
Tom squeaked, jumping up and down. “Thank you, thank you! I was literally dying to add some color to those beautiful, dark eyes of yours. They’re so intense.” He immediately got to work, pausing now and then before humming in satisfaction.
“Close your eyes, darling.”
The soft bristles of the brush touched his eyelids gently. Dean had worn eyeliner and shadow for years; he wasn’t going to change now because he was going on television.
“There, all done. Don’t you look delicious?”
Dean laughed at Tom’s enthusiasm. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. Dean was impressed. Tom had chosen plum shades that complemented his dark brown eyes. The tone went well with the mustard-colored sweater he was wearing. The effect was daring and made him feel confident yet gorgeous.
“I love it. You’re a true artist, Tom!”
Tom squealed and did a little shimmy as he twirled on the spot. “Darling, when you have a canvas like yours, it’s hard to go wrong.” He turned to Beau, who was standing silently across the room watching. “How about you, darling? Have you decided if you want to go subtle or daring for the night?”
Beau walked the short distance to look at Dean’s face, then smiled. “They’ll be watching,” he said, contemplating. “I definitely want to be daring. The only decision is do we match, or should I go with something different?”
Tom looked at the dark blue sweater Beau was wearing and pursed his lips. “If you don’t mind, I think you would look fabulous if I use deeper colors on you. I’m thinking smoky grays and heavier black liner. If that’s too heavy for you, I could tone it down with taupe instead of black. What’s your pleasure?”
Beau’s smile grew wider. “Do your worst, Tom. As Dean said, you’re an artist. I wouldn’t begin to tell you how to do your job.”
Dean burst out laughing as Tom got so thrilled by the prospect he jumped up and down three times with his hands in the air, shouting for joy.
Dean was still laughing when he stood to let Beau sit down. Tom continued to chat about anything and everything as he transformed Beau’s face. Dean knew they were considered attractive, but as Tom added the finishing touches to Beau’s face, he was struck by the results. Since they were usually identical in every way, it was unnerving that the different makeup changed their overall look. Beau’s eyes were darker and more sensual, whereas Dean’s appeared richer, almost the color of coffee. Thinking of the last text message from Malcolm and Drake, Dean smiled a Cheshire grin. His eyes connected with Beau, who was giving the same knowing look.
“Would you mind if I take your photos for my portfolio? Don’t feel like you have to. It would just be nice.”
“Totally okay, Tom. We’d be honored,” Beau said as he stood and threw his arm around Dean.
Tom spent the next five minutes taking various photos while the boys relaxed. Thanks to Tom and his antics, and the fact that Mal and Drake had reached out to them, the live interview no longer worried Dean. He was feeling confident and eager to get started.
The next fifteen minutes passed swiftly. In no time at all they were standing offstage listening to Ally start the show.
20
Malcolm
M
alcolm rushed into the living room. Drake already had the television on and a glass of rum waiting for him. Grabbling the tumbler, he took a long drink, barely tasting the robust, smooth flavor. “Did I miss anything?”
Drake ran his bottle of Corona between his palms before taking a swallow. “You’re just in time, the host’s just gone through the usual intro. Typical lead-in with how their lives have played out in the media. Went into some detail about their birth parents and the auction, leading up to being adopted by Jackson. She did a good promo on their charity foundation and even put a donation link on the screen.”
Sitting down, Malcolm focused on the screen. The ad for floor cleaner finished, and the host appeared. Ally was the right choice for the boys. She was noted for being fair-minded and honest.
Ally looked at the audience with anticipation evident in her smiling eyes.
“Beau and Dean have always been open with the press, but they have never given a formal interview…until now. Please welcome Beau and Dean Xavier,” Ally said, giving Beau and Dean the cue to join her.
Malcolm found himself leaning forward as Dean and Beau entered the stage and walked toward the two-seater lounge where Ally was waiting. They walked with confidence, shoulders back, head high, and sexy grins on their faces. They looked spectacular, and Malcolm found himself drawn to Beau’s smile. He was surprised to see the boys were wearing more makeup than usual. He wasn’t so much surprised by the makeup than by his response to them in makeup. He shifted on the seat and adjusted his growing erection. He also noticed they were holding hands. Ally rose to great them, giving them a kiss on each cheek.
“Beau, Dean, it’s a pleasure to have you join us tonight,” she purred. “If you don’t mind, let’s jump straight to the heart of the matter. We have all seen recordings. The Coleman brothers have had their say. Is there anything you would like to clarify?”
Beau spoke first. “Thank you for having us, Ally. Our first thought was to set the record straight, then we realized that it didn’t matter what we said. People make up their own minds about what they think they saw. It’s more tantalizing to say Beau
and I have a relationship, that it’s not natural and one of us was jealous on the night in question, but it doesn’t change anything. People can yell ‘fake news’ and ignore the truth.” Beau looked at Dean. “Dean is my brother, and we are very close. We are very tactile people. If I want to hold my brother’s hand,” he said, holding up their joined hands, “I will. I hold my dad’s hands, I hold my friends’ hands, but if I dare hold my brother’s hand, people get upset. Why is that?”
Ally gave them a reassuring smile. “I believe it makes people uncomfortable because of the idea that there is more between you than brotherly love. We’ve all heard the rumors of you sleeping in the same bed and sharing men.”
Drake slammed the empty bottle down on the table. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if they hold hands. People should mind their own business.”
Malcolm focused on Dean, who had leaned forward in his seat. “We slept together as children. Everything we did was together. We were told we were one person. We believed this was truth.” He took a deep breath and continued. “When we were adopted, the world was not what we expected. Everything we were taught was a lie. Yes, as children we continued to sleep in the same bed. I don’t think of Beau as just my brother. He’s my other half. I can tell you there was never anything sexual about the situation, but I can’t make you or anyone else believe that it is purely innocent. People love the scandalized version.”
“Do you still sleep in the same bed?” Ally asked.
Beau smiled. “Sometimes we do, especially if we’re upset. This past week has been difficult for us. We are comforted by each other, and we will not apologize for the negative thoughts of others.”