The Diva and his Daddy

by James, Rebecca;

  When our turn came around, Jeo and I took our places onstage. Erik had choreographed a scene where I’m sitting at table reading when Jeo comes in and coaxes me into dancing with him as the song progresses. For the show, I planned to dress sexy-nerdy.

  We were going really well until we got to the part where, mid-step, Jeo bends and I roll over his back. It’s usually an easy move, but this time I must started off wrong because pain lanced through my side, and I stumbled out of the roll and onto my ass.

  Jeo knelt beside me as the music stopped and Erik rushed over.

  “What did you hurt?” Jeo looked concerned.

  Feeling like an idiot, I tried to get up but winced at the pain and sank back down. “My side. Or maybe my back. I’m not sure.”

  Erik felt along my back and side, asking me questions until he finally said, “I think you’ve just pulled a muscle. Get some ice on it as soon as you can, and later use heat. See a doctor if it doesn’t start to feel better tomorrow. But you’re done rehearsing for a while. Good thing you guys have the whole routine down.”

  Shit. The talent show was in two weeks. But Erik was right: we had our routine down pat.

  Jeo helped me up off the floor and down the steps from the stage.

  “Matteo!” Jeo called to his friend. “You come here with Dante?”

  “Yeah. We rode over in the SUV. You okay, Nick?”

  I nodded. If I stood a certain way—kind of bent sideways and crouched like an old man—the pain wasn’t as severe.

  “Will you take my bike to the clubhouse? I’m gonna drive Nick home.” Jeo tossed his keys to Matteo, who caught them.

  “Sure, man.”

  Jeo helped me outside.

  “You’re going to let Matteo drive your bike when you didn’t let me?” I teased as we slowly walked to my car.

  “Matteo was born on a bike,” Jeo said.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “I can’t believe I hurt myself.”

  “You’ll be okay. Like Erik said, you just need to ice the muscle and take it easy for a while. I once pulled the fuck out of my back in a fistfight. Laid me up for a three days, but after that I was fine.”

  By the time we got back to my place, I was miserable and struggling to hide it. But Jeo must have seen through me, because he swooped me up and carried me from the elevator into my apartment and to my bed.

  “I’ll get you ibuprofen and some ice,” Jeo said.

  My phone vibrated, and I groaned as I fished it out of my pocket to see a text from Tony.

  You okay? Heard you got hurt.

  That was fast. Tony and Cane hadn’t even been at the rehearsal.

  I tapped out a reply, holding the phone directly above my face, so I wouldn’t have to move. Yeah, just pulled a muscle.

  A few seconds later, Tony replied, Take tomorrow off.

  Best boss in the world, I typed back, even though technically Cane was my boss. Tony and I both knew he’d do whatever Tony wanted.

  When Jeo reappeared with a bottle of water and a bag of ice, I momentarily forgot I’d hurt myself and tried to get up, resulting in a streak of pain down my back.

  “Easy,” Jeo said. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed me two ibuprofen, which I dutifully swallowed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “For messing up. Now we won’t be able to rehearse again until right before the show. You think I should go to the doctor?”

  “If it’ll make you feel better. And it wasn’t your fault.” When I opened my mouth to argue, he pointed at me with a stern look. “Don’t argue with Daddy.”

  I smiled. “Or what? You’ll spank me? When I’m injured?”

  “I’ll think of something,” he said, lying down beside me. “We know our routine. It’s gonna be fine.”

  Pain relievers always made me sleepy, so I shouldn’t have been surprised to suddenly find the room dark and Jeo gone. Had he gone home? I was pretty sure this was an on night for him at Rainbow House.

  “Jeo?”

  I heard footsteps in the hall, and he appeared in the doorway.

  “Thought you’d left,” I said, pleased that he hadn’t.

  “I called Gabe and switched nights with him.”

  I blinked. “You didn’t have to do that!”

  “What are you gonna do, lie here in misery, unable to even go take a piss? Come on. Besides, I want to stay. Now, are you hungry? Because I was thinking about ordering Chinese.”

  A warmth spread in my chest that threatened to produce tears. “Sounds good to me,” I managed to say.

  When was the last time anyone had taken care of me? Royce had been great, but the few times I’d gotten sick, I’d stayed at home, and he’d never done more than check on me by phone. He’d certainly never changed his plans so he could be with me.

  And I hadn’t thought a thing of it. That was the way we’d operated. We were seeing one another, but although we were exclusive, we weren’t—what? Emotionally involved? I guess that was it.

  If Jeo were hurt or sick, I’d definitely want to take care of him. Because I loved him.

  My heart fluttered.

  Maybe Jeo really did love me. Maybe the feelings he’d admitted to really were that strong.

  When Jeo disconnected from ordering the food, I’d surreptitiously wiped away my tears, but I couldn’t help asking, “Can I have a kiss, Daddy?”

  Jeo smiled. “Of course.” He leaned over the bed, and I tried to convey all my feelings for him with my mouth, clinging to him when he eventually pulled away.

  He pressed his forehead to mine. “That was nice, boy.”

  I slid my fingers through his thick hair. “Thank you for rearranging your plans so you could be with me, Daddy.”

  “I told you, I wanted to do it,” he said. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “Still. Thank you.”

  Jeo chuckled and carefully crawled onto the bed, snuggling with me until the security guard knocked on the door with our food.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jeo

  “Why are we the only two painting?”

  Both of us shirtless and barefoot, Blaze and I moved our paint rollers up and down the walls of the warehouse, our movements almost in sync.

  “Various reasons,” Blaze said. “Dante’s working on a case, Isaac’s sick, Axel’s helping Caleb with something, Tony’s with Nick, Cane’s working…” he went on, listing the whereabouts of club members as I rose on my toes to touch the roller to the tape running around the ceiling. It was high time we painted the warehouse interior, and, although I was bitching, I was secretly glad to be the only one to show up to help the bossman.

  “You talk to Matteo lately?” Blaze asked unexpectedly.

  “Just for two minutes when he and Tease returned my bike the other night. Why?”

  Blaze let out a breath and bent to push his roller through the pan of white paint. Satin Silos White, to be exact.

  “I’m a little worried about him.”

  “Because…” I prompted.

  Blaze glanced at me. “Didn’t you see Flynn at the barbecue?”

  I frowned. Flynn? “Oh, you mean Nick’s friend?” Wait. I stopped painting and looked at Blaze. “You mean…was that…” I left off, the pieces connecting in my mind. “Was that Matteo’s Flynn?”

  Blaze nodded and resumed painting.

  “But I thought he moved to California!”

  “So did we. Nobody expected him to show up at the barbecue, least of all Matteo. Matty wasn’t even supposed to be there, but his grandmother decided to skip the fireworks and go to bed early.”

  “And they just ran into each other there? Wow.” I shook my head. That had to have been all kinds of awkward for both of them. No wonder Flynn had gone home early, and Matteo had left soon after.

  “He hasn’t been around the clubhouse since,” Blaze said. “I’ve called him a couple times, but he just texted to say he was fine and then went back to
radio silence.”

  As I finished the corner I was working on, I thought about it. Matteo and Flynn had dated a long time. Almost three years. “I always thought those two were it for each other. I was shocked when they ended it.” I glanced at Blaze. “You know why they did?”

  “Not my story to tell,” Blaze said.

  I flicked paint at him. “Thanks for nothing, Bossman.”

  “You’re welcome. And flick paint at me again, and I’ll rearrange your pretty face.”

  I smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

  We worked companionably, only the radio and the smooth sound of the rollers moving over plaster filling the silence, until Blaze finally dropped his, stretched, and declared a lunch break.

  I grabbed my T-shirt and pulled it over my head, following Blaze out into the bright, hot sunshine and across the yard to the clubhouse.

  Inside, Adam sat at the kitchen table looking glum.

  “What’s the matter, man?” I asked, opening the fridge and taking out two beers. I passed one to Blaze, who cast me a worried look behind Adam’s back.

  “They let me go at work.”

  “What?” I rounded the table to look at him. “Why the fuck did they do that?”

  “Said they couldn’t risk my having a seizure and missing something on the security tape.”

  “But…your seizures last only seconds,” Blaze said.

  Adam shrugged and didn’t reply.

  “It’s not the end of the world,” I said. “You didn’t really like working nights anyway. You can find something you like better.”

  Adam tried to smile, but he looked upset. He stood and left the room, and Blaze and I gave him his space.

  In case Adam could hear us, Blaze changed the subject.

  “Nick’s back better?” I was pretty sure he’d asked me that when I’d arrived at the warehouse that morning, but I pretended he hadn’t.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “Yeah. We might be able to get in a rehearsal before the night of the show. Man, Morgan did a crazy good job of getting sponsors. The place is gonna be packed.”

  Blaze opened a bag of chips and took a few before passing the bag to me.

  “That all you’re going to eat for lunch?” Lake asked, breezing into the room, bringing the floral scent of his cologne with him. He bent to kiss Blaze.

  “Where are you off to?” Blaze asked, looking him over. Lake wore a pair of skinny jeans and a blue and white shirt that accentuated his lean body.

  “To Stephen and Khan’s. I told you this. Invited you to come, in fact, but you said you had to paint.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. My mind’s occupied.”

  “You heard about Adam’s job?” Lake had lowered his voice. “He’s in his room with the door closed,” he told us.

  “I can’t believe those fuckers fired him,” Blaze said quietly. “Like he hasn’t felt shitty enough lately.”

  “Maybe there’s something he can do at The Banana,” Lake said. “We’ll figure it out.” He kissed Blaze again. “Gotta go. I’ll help you paint tomorrow. I’m off. But I’m going in to work tonight straight from Khan’s.”

  Blaze nodded. “Be careful.”

  When Lake had left, I said, “You still don’t like him pole dancing, do you.”

  “Not gonna lie. No. I don’t like those men hooting and howling at his practically naked body. He’s mine.”

  “I imagine I’d feel the same if it was Nick. Lake doesn’t want to quit and do something else?”

  Blaze smiled ruefully. “You know Lake. He’s extremely independent. I was lucky to get him to move in here with me. If I suggested he quit his job, he’d go through the roof.” He looked at me. “So, you and Nick really are getting serious?”

  I chewed my lower lip. No point in trying to hide it. I was in it for the long haul with my boy. “Yeah.”

  Blaze grinned. “I’m happy for you, man.”

  “It’s weird. I mean, knowing this is it for me. That I’m not going to be with anyone else. But I don’t have any doubts.”

  “Our little Jeo’s growing up.” Blaze tried to ruffle my hair, but I knocked his hand away. “Seriously, you’ve done a hell of a job turning yourself around this past year.”

  “What can I say? When I decide to do something, I do it. I realize now it had a lot to do with Nick. I couldn’t stand him looking at me the way he did back then. So, I guess I really have you to thank, since you’re the one who appointed him my personal assistant.” I pretended to give Blaze a reproachful look, and he laughed.

  “You needed that, man. Nick got you where you needed to be. I think the two of you complement each other. Nick needs you as much as you need him.”

  I frowned. “How do you mean?”

  Blaze shrugged. “He’s always seemed a lot like a loose cannon to me. He hides behind that flirtatious manner, acts all tough when he’s anything but. Am I wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I’m not sure what I do for him.”

  Blaze finished his beer and wiped his mouth on his arm. “My guess is you make him feel safe. Secure. While still managing to stroke his ego and give him what he needs in the bedroom.”

  I couldn’t help scowling. “And what would you know about that?”

  “Down, boy.” Blaze held up his hands, palms out. “Only what I’ve surmised with my incredibly astute skills of observation. Nick needed someone to handle him, which is evident by the fact he chooses to have a Daddy. Only I guess Royce’s method wasn’t doing it for him.”

  I settled back in my chair and took another pull from my beer bottle. I missed cigarettes, but I hadn’t smoked one in weeks, and I wasn’t going back to them. I thought about how, the past couple of weeks while Nick was recuperating, he’d seemed more and more settled. We’d watched movies, played games, sat and talked. Because of Nick’s injury, we couldn’t do a lot of fooling around, but we’d still enjoyed each other’s company.

  “I really thought Nick wanted somebody rich who could throw money at him, but I’ve learned money doesn’t matter to him. What he wants is attention. And you’re right. Nick needs authority. I discovered that early on. I also discovered I like giving it to him.”

  Blaze smiled wickedly. “I’m sure you do.”

  I barked out a laugh and looked at my watch. “We going to eat something substantial before getting back to work? I can’t slave away for you on a beer and a handful of chips.”

  Blaze snorted and pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll make us a couple of giant sandwiches.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Nick

  The night of the talent show, I had butterflies in my stomach. Normally, I didn’t get nervous about things like performing in front of people, but because this benefited Rainbow House and Jeo was counting on me, I found myself with jangled nerves.

  My back had healed, and Jeo and I had rehearsed two nights ago without a hitch. I’d found the perfect nerd-boy outfit—comfortable and nonrestrictive enough to dance in—and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses without lenses that I’d rigged to stay on through my flips and vigorous dancing.

  Jeo looked hot in a pair of black jeans and a black tank top that hugged his muscles and made me want to bend over for him. The night before, he’d fucked me so hard I could still feel it, kind of like when you spend the day at an amusement park riding roller coasters and still feel like you’re riding them hours later. The sex had settled my rising freakout that had been boiling just below the surface, which, I was pretty sure, had been Jeo’s intention.

  Yep, Jeo had me pretty well figured out.

  And I didn’t care.

  For the first time in my life, I felt stable. Taken care of. The more time I spent with Jeo, the less I feared he might walk away. Over a year ago, when I’d met the dynamic, sexy, volatile man who’d flitted from lover to lover, partied too much, and couldn’t get out of bed for work most mornings, I never would have believed it could be this way.

  “You ready?” Jeo’s voice at my ea
r had me turning to find him smiling down at me.

  “Sure,” I said. “How about you?”

  “Looking forward to it.” He peered out the curtain. “The crowd is fucking huge.”

  He was right about that. The auditorium of the Creative Arts Center was stuffed to the gills.

  Jeo turned back to me, a grin spreading over his handsome face. “We’re making thousands of dollars for Rainbow House. I can’t believe it. And the Go Fund Me page Tony set up is making even more.”

  I couldn’t help but grin back. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

  Jeo nodded and pulled me in for a kiss, which melted my bones and helped settle my nerves.

  We stayed backstage watching. We were the second act, right after Dante’s solo of Elton John’s Your Song, which he performed beautifully on the guitar. He had a good singing voice, and the fact he was beautiful didn’t hurt. The crowd loved him.

  The stage darkened, and Jeo squeezed my hand before we took our places. As soon as the first strains of Can’t Help Myself filled the air, my nervousness fled, and I became immersed in the scene. Fuck, Jeo was a sexy bastard. I was totally into being the nerdy little bookworm that he seduced into a lively dance.

  When the applause rocked the auditorium, I was grinning like a loon. Jeo and I held hands and bowed before skipping off the stage and around through the side door to take our saved seats in the front row. Gabe gave us a thumbs up from where he was sitting a few chairs down, and Tony and Cane patted us on the back from the row behind us as we settled in our seats to watch the rest of the show.

  When Morgan and Zeke’s performance got underway, I couldn’t take my eyes off the stage. Morgan had recruited the help of one of his advanced classes, but the spotlight remained on him throughout, with Zeke mostly in the shadows, lifting and occasionally spinning Morgan in a beautiful dance performed to Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers. Zeke wasn’t wearing tights, but he was dressed in form-fitting spandex that fit snugly on his big, muscular form.

  “God, if he drops him, I’m never letting him forget it,” Jeo whispered, and I elbowed him. Tony had once told me that, before Morgan had come along, Zeke had been kind of an ass, having grown up in a household where homophobic slurs were the norm. It was hard to believe as I watched him with his husband, so much love radiating from Zeke as the music reached a crescendo, and he caught Morgan high in the air before bringing him down in a slow slide against his body.