Push & Pull (The Midwest Series Book 2)

by Brigham Vaughn

  “Well, if I know you, you’ve probably said about three words to Brent since last night, right?”

  “No. We kinda yelled at each other about things this morning,” Lowell muttered.

  “That’s not exactly an improvement.” Caleb’s sigh was long-suffering. “How about you act like an adult and sit down and have a conversation? Tell him you think you made a mistake last night. Tell him you want to enjoy the rest of the trip so you think it’s best if you guys don’t hook up again. And then spend the summer just enjoying hanging out with him. As platonically as possible.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “You’re the smartest guy I know. You can do this.”

  “Ugh, I hate you right now.”

  “Because I’m right?”

  “Probably.”

  “I love you, Lowell.”

  “I love you too,” he muttered before he ended the call.

  May 29, 2013 – Chicago, Illinois

  Brent

  Last night was a mistake, Brent thought as he closed the door behind him. A very, very hot mistake. But still a mistake. Because Lowell was now so cold, Brent was surprised he didn’t have frostbite just from being in his vicinity. What the fuck happened? he wondered. He’d expected a bit of awkwardness, but this? The cold shoulder? The snarling anger? Jesus, where had that come from?

  Clearly, Lowell had some issues with his family, but that didn’t mean he had to take it out on Brent.

  He found the closest stairwell and yanked the door open. He jogged down seven flights of stairs, and his blood was beginning to pump as he found the fitness center and hopped on the treadmill. At least, I don’t need to do a long warm up, he thought as he cranked up the speed to a jog. He fell into a steady rhythm as he gradually increased the speed. As always, his mind wandered as he ran. Unfortunately, his thoughts returned immediately to Lowell.

  Brent felt a stab of guilt. Where did I go wrong?

  There was so much hurt lurking in Lowell’s eyes. Despite his annoyance with Lowell, Brent still felt this confusing pull toward him, wanting to touch him, reassure him that everything was okay. Hell, reassure himself that it was okay.

  But there was nothing he could do if Lowell kept shoving him away.

  ***

  “You’re Lowell’s friend, right?”

  Brent looked up from the scrambled eggs he’d been poking with his fork, startled. It was the guy from when they checked in. The drag queen. Although he was dressed in street clothes at the moment. “Yeah. Uh, Ricky, right?”

  “Yes.” He smiled widely at Brent. “Are you enjoying your stay?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you. The room is great.”

  “I just wanted to check in and make sure it was okay. I have such a soft spot for Lowell.”

  Brent forced a smile onto his face. “Yeah. He’s a good guy.” An annoying little shit sometimes, but a good guy.

  Ricky reached for the chair, then hesitated. “Do you mind?”

  “No, go ahead.” What the fuck does this guy want?

  Ricky leaned forward. “How well do you know Lowell?”

  Brent shrugged. “He’s a friend of a friend, really. We got thrown together on this trip, and we’re just getting to know each other. Why?”

  “I know I’m overstepping here, but I only ask because Lowell is special to me.”

  “Why is that?” Brent asked, curious now. “I mean, he mentioned that you were friends but ...”

  “But what is a thirty-four-year-old drag queen doing with a rich, twinky young thing like Lowell Prescott?”

  Brent scratched his head, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn the whole conversation had taken. “Well, yeah. I guess.”

  “To put it simply, Lowell saved my life.” Brent gaped at him for a moment. “He started coming here when he was about sixteen. He and his friends had more money than they knew what to do with, and their parents didn’t care what they did with it either. Lowell’s parents were pretty protective though. I think they knew they couldn’t keep Lowell out of Boystown, but they wanted him to have a safe place to stay when he went. So they called the hotel manager and asked if someone would keep an eye on him and his friends while they were staying here. That was my job, keeping an eye out for them.” Ricky offered him a small smile.

  “One night, some creepy older guy was hitting on them when they waited for a cab, and I chased him off. That sort of thing. I’m not sure Lowell ever knew why I did it. He was always polite to me, but I don’t think he paid me much attention at that point.”

  “Okay,” Brent said slowly, not quite following how that had led to Lowell saving Ricky’s life.

  “One night after a drag show in Boystown, things ran late, and I was in a hurry to get home, so I hadn’t changed out of my costume into my everyday clothes. The Red line station I was supposed to get on at was closed for repairs, so I had to walk a little farther, and my feet were starting to kill me in those stilettos.”

  Ricky cleared his throat. “Some guy started hassling me as I passed. Just name calling, nothing I hadn’t heard before. But he got louder. More aggressive. He started following me. I walked faster, but it was hard to do on those skinny little heels, and I got one caught in a crack in the sidewalk. This guy was on me so fast. Lowell and his friends must have come out of a club or something at just the right time, but they saw it happen. The guy grabbed me, and Lowell came barreling out of nowhere like some kind of superhero.”

  “Whoa,” Brent said, completely caught up in the story Ricky was telling. “Seriously?”

  Ricky’s smile was blinding. “Yes. All his friends hung back, and Lowell couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, but he yelled in the guy’s face to let me go. And he did. The guy scurried off like a scolded puppy, and all I ended up with was a bad bruise on my arm and a scuffed heel. I don’t know what the guy would have done if Lowell hadn’t scared him off. Maybe he just wanted to frighten me, but maybe he would have done much worse. It wouldn’t have been the first time a guy was beaten up—or worse—for looking good in a dress, you know?”

  “Yeah. You are definitely lucky Lowell showed up.” Brent frowned. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  “It scared the wits out of me, that’s for sure. But you understand why I felt very grateful to Lowell after that.”

  “Of course.”

  “The thing is he didn’t even recognize me until the guy ran off, and I thanked him for saving me. He just saw some stranger getting hassled, and he wanted to protect them. He’s fierce.”

  “Yeah, he is,” Brent agreed.

  “And he’s generous too. He paid for me to get a cab home that night so I’d be safe. East Lakeshore to Pilsen can’t have been cheap.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Brent admitted. “That totally sounds like the kind of thing he’d do.”

  “He has a big heart,” Ricky said with a smile. “Anyway, the reason I wanted to tell you the story was because I want to ask you for a favor.”

  “Uh. Okay.” Brent cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I want you to keep an eye on Lowell for me.”

  “From your story, it sounds to me like he can take care of himself,” Brent said drily.

  But Ricky frowned. “He can. Clearly, he can protect himself in that way. But he’s always looking out for other people, and sometimes I wonder who’s looking out for him.”

  Brent sat there silently for a moment as he digested Ricky’s words. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Those friends he had here, they weren’t so great. They didn’t look out for him the way he looked out for them.”

  Brent thought back. Funny, now that he really thought about it, he didn’t know of any other close friends Lowell had, besides Caleb. And it was weird that Lowell was back in his hometown and hadn’t made plans to see the people he’d grown up with. Brent had hung out with a handful of people when he was home in Zeeland after graduation. It had been a little awkward b
ecause of his coming out, but they’d been there for him at least. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Brent said. “If he’ll let me.”

  Ricky smiled. “I don’t think Lowell lets anyone take care of him. You’re going to have to do it whether or not he likes it.”

  Brent nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  ***

  After that conversation, Brent wasn’t quite ready to go up to the room and talk to Lowell, so he abandoned his now-cold breakfast, left a tip on the table, and went for a walk. He left the hotel and crossed Clark Street to Lincoln Park. He wandered through the park for a little while, lost in thought. On a Saturday at the end of May, it was crowded with people, but he found a spot that overlooked the strip of beach along the lake and paused, leaning on the railing. Clouds were beginning to cover the sky, and the waves were choppy from the wind.

  Brent wasn’t sure what to do with the information Ricky had given him. He had a clearer picture of Lowell right now, which was good. But it didn’t exactly solve the issue that Lowell could be as prickly as a hedgehog. Sure, he looked sweet on the outside, and Brent had seen glimpses of a softer side that he clearly tried to hide, but damn, he could be defensive and thorny.

  If what Ricky said was true, Lowell didn’t have many close friends. Brent thought back to Lowell’s story about what happened with Micah and felt a stab of sympathy. There were always two sides to every story, but Brent knew Micah pretty well. What Lowell described was the kind of shitty thing Micah might do. Micah had always been fiercely protective of his privacy, and any possibility of being outed had made him paranoid and defensive. Assuming even half of what Lowell had told him was true about what went down between them, Brent wasn’t surprised Lowell was so wary of letting anyone get close.

  So what now? Brent stared out over Lake Michigan, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. He was on a road trip with a guy he was attracted to, who wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. A part of him was annoyed as hell with Lowell but another part wanted to give Lowell a hug and reassure him not every guy out there was a complete dick.

  Brent could imagine how badly that would go over. Maybe he should just go back to square one. Lowell clearly needed a friend, and Brent could do that.

  The wind began to pick up, gusting off the lake and tugging at his clothes. The clouds looked heavier and darker, and a drop of rain landed on his bare arm. He straightened and turned away from the water. Time to head back to the hotel.

  He made it halfway across the park before his rumbling stomach reminded him he hadn’t really eaten yet. He glanced at the time on his phone and frowned. The restaurant had stopped serving breakfast for the day. They had lunch, but that was definitely not included and expensive as hell. He did a quick search and found a gourmet burger place just around the corner from the hotel that looked a lot more reasonable.

  Ricky’s reminder that Lowell didn’t have anyone looking out for him still rang in his ears as he waited to cross Lakeshore Drive and cut through the park. His conscience pricked at him. Maybe he should pick up takeout for himself and for Lowell.

  It couldn’t hurt to bring a peace offering, right?

  Chapter Twelve

  May 29, 2013 – Chicago, Illinois

  Lowell

  Lowell must have fallen asleep because he awoke to Brent pushing a paper bag toward him. “I got burgers from a place around the corner.”

  “I don’t eat beef,” Lowell protested, pulling out one of his earbuds. The other one had fallen out at some point. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

  Brent gave him an exasperated look and rattled the bag at him. “I know. I got you a turkey burger. Plus fries. You should eat before we head to the game. I know you skipped breakfast, and you didn’t get much at your parents’ house last night. At least, eat the burger. You need the protein.”

  “Oh.” Lowell stared at him for a moment, then took the bag from him. “Uh, thanks.”

  “Sure.” Brent cleared his throat. “There’re a couple of shakes too. I got chocolate and strawberry, but I wasn’t sure which one you’d like. I’m fine with either.”

  “Chocolate, please,” Lowell said meekly. His conversation with Caleb made him feel guilty about what an ass he’d been to Brent.

  Brent grabbed one of the cups off the nightstand and held it out to him.

  “Thank you.”

  Brent took a seat next to him on the bed, and they ate in silence, except for the rustle of bags and wrappers. The scent of greasy fries made Lowell’s stomach rumble, and he snagged one, closing his eyes with pleasure as he ate it. He didn’t eat a lot of fried food, but right now, this tasted like heaven. Brent was right, he hadn’t eaten since dinner at his parents’ house last night, and he hadn’t exactly had a full meal then. He ate two more fries in quick succession, then glanced at Brent out of the corner of his eye. Brent was shoveling a massive burger into his mouth. It dripped down his fingers. The smell of beef normally turned Lowell’s stomach, but right now, it smelled amazing. He almost wished Brent had gotten him one.

  Instead, he looked down at the bag of food scorching his thigh and rummaged in it, unearthing the sandwich from under a massive stack of napkins. He carefully unwrapped it, peeling back the paper and releasing a cloud of steam. It was hot, clearly freshly made, but he was too impatient to wait.

  He bit into the sandwich, the burn of hot juices hitting his tongue registering just moments after the flavor. He yelped around the bite and chewed quickly. He swallowed, but it burned going down, and he reached for the shake, sucking it down as fast as he could get it to come up the straw.

  “Damn. I know you’re kinda pissed at me right now, but if you go to town on a chocolate shake like that I can only imagine what you could do with a dude’s cock if you really wanted to make him come,” Brent said admiringly.

  Lowell choked, sputtering as he swallowed the thick, creamy drink, and stared at the guy sitting on the bed next to him.

  Brent whacked him on the back as he coughed. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Lowell wheezed. His tongue hurt where it had been burned, and his throat ached from the food going down wrong, but he had to admit, that had been pretty funny. “Just burned myself on the burger.”

  Lowell took another, more careful sip of his shake. “It’s good. Just really hot.” He spread a few napkins on the nightstand and placed the sandwich on it. The fries seemed a little safer for now.

  Even with his burned tongue, they tasted amazing, and he had to force himself to eat slowly. “Thanks for lunch, by the way,” he said as he licked the salt from his fingers. “You’re right, I did need to eat.”

  “No problem.” Brent gave him a tentative smile. “I was starving, and I know you need to eat regularly. I, uh, did some research on anemia while I was waiting at the restaurant.”

  Lowell’s answering smile was equally tentative. “Thanks.”

  “I’m not saying you should eat it if you don’t like it, but red meat would help with the anemia, right?”

  Lowell sighed. “It would. But most of the time, I can’t stand the smell or taste. It makes me feel queasy, and I can’t force it down. My mom refuses to listen to me. She keeps insisting it’s all in my head, and if I’d just try it again, I’ll like it.” He made a face. “I have. I nearly threw up all over her dining table once.”

  “Oh, man, I love a good steak,” Brent said.

  “Yeah, honestly, it would make my life a lot easier if I could stomach it, but I make do with green leafy vegetables, eggs, and chicken. I take iron supplements. I really am fine. I normally do eat a lot of spinach, kale, and beans, but it’s a little harder on a road trip, you know?”

  “Oh. We can eat other places,” Brent said, wiping his face with his napkin. “I mean, places that’ll have what you need. I don’t want you to get sick or anything.”

  “I’m fine,” Lowell said, exasperated. He’d always hated the way people treated him like he was made of spun glass when they learned about his condit
ion. “I don’t need you to baby me. Thank you for lunch, and the offer, but I swear, I’m fine.” He said it firmly, hoping Brent would get the message that he didn’t want him to bring it up again.

  “How did you figure out you had it?”

  Lowell stifled a groan. Apparently, Brent wasn’t going to drop the anemia thing. “I got really sick when I was little. I had a lot of headaches and stomachaches, and when I started throwing up a lot, my parents took me to the doctor. It’s pretty rare in kids that little, so it took the doctors a while to pinpoint the anemia and figure out the cause of it.”

  “That must have been scary.”

  Lowell shrugged. “I was too little to remember, but I know, at first, my parents thought I might have leukemia or something. I didn’t, but my mom got a little over-protective. Even once they diagnosed me with the anemia, she was afraid to let me do anything too taxing.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  “It was just really frustrating because my mom wouldn’t let me play contact sports even once they diagnosed the anemia and got it under control.” Lowell frowned. “My father wanted me to play, and I begged my mom to let me, but she never would. I just had to sit on the sidelines and feel inadequate.”

  “Is that why you have a thing for jocks?”

  Lowell gave Brent a quizzical look. “What are you talking about?”

  Brent shrugged and crumpled up his napkin. “Um, well, you always hook up with jocks, right?”

  “Yeah, but what does that have to do with my parents?” Lowell asked sharply.

  “I just thought maybe their obsession with sports and all that was why you were so into jocks. You know, you couldn’t be one, so you wanted to be with one or whatever. Like, that would please them or something.”

  Lowell squinted at him for a long moment as the words tumbled around in his head. Brent’s words resonated on a level he wasn’t at all comfortable with. “You know, I never really thought of it that way.”

  Lowell reached for his sandwich again, hesitantly bringing it to his mouth. He was pleased when he realized it was cool enough to eat comfortably. He was only half done by the time he heard the empty rattle of Brent’s straw as he attempted to suck up the dregs of his milkshake. He could feel Brent’s gaze on him as he tried to hurry and finish.