Hmm. Interesting.
He’d file that information away for later.
“Anyway, it’s kind of nice, right?” he said. “The way they all support us?”
“It is,” Trevor agreed.
“But it does make me wonder why our management is so concerned about people finding out we’re together. It’s almost like everyonewantsus to be together.”
Trevor lips turned down slightly. “It’s not that simple. I’m sure plenty of fans would be happy for us, but there will always be homophobic assholes who’ll freak out at the thought of two guys kissing.”
“But if there’s always going to be those assholes, why should we even worry about them?” It seemed stupid to cater to the limited worldview of people like that. Just like Trevor had told Skyler not to concern himself with people’s toxic masculinity bullshit.
“It’s negative attention the band doesn’t need,” Trevor reasoned. “And it’s not only about them. I know our real fans are here for our music and they like us for who we are, but I don’t think Maggie’s wrong about how a lot of them might be disappointed if they learn they’ll never have a chance with us.”
“As if they’d have a real chance with us even if we were straight? We don’t know them.”
“It’s part of the fantasy. And it’s harmless, right? If imagining that someday we might notice and start dating one of them makes the fans happy, do we want to take that away from them?”
It all sounded fairly reasonable when Trevor explained it like that. But that didn’t mean Skyler liked it. He’d rather not have to hide who he was and compromise his own happiness for the sake of other people’s. But then again, he did care about their fans. The band owed them a lot. Everything, really. Without the fans they wouldn’t be here on their second world tour.
So fine. He’d keep hiding.
But he wouldn’t stop his small rebellions. The tattoos, his pink shirts, and slyly grazing his fingers across Trevor’s shoulder as he passed by him onstage.
They could keep him in the closet, but they couldn’t change who he was inside that closet. He’d always be gay. And he’d always be in love with Trevor.
Chapter Twenty-One
Now
TREVOR
Waking up in themorning, Trevor immediately remembers what happened last night. He. Kissed. Skyler.
Fuck.
He was scared, and then he was so relieved when the fire went out that he couldn’t help himself. Skyler was right there, and everything was confusing, but he wasn’t supposed to do that.
He knows he needs to apologize, so he rehearses it in his head before getting out of bed. But his apology dies on the tip of his tongue as he walks into the main area of the apartment and sees Skyler standing at the stove cooking breakfast in his underwear.
“Um.”
Skyler whips around, spatula in hand, and gives him a full-dimpled smile. “Morning! I’m making banana walnut pancakes with caramel drizzle. Well, caramel drizzle for me. I assume you’ll skip that. But I can make eggs too. Wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be.”
“I—uh.”
Words. You think them, then you say them. It’s easy. He’s been forming sentences since he was three. Writing songs since he was fifteen.
But it’s quite possible that the sight of Skyler’s bare, tattooed thighs, and the bulge in the front of his tight black briefs has liquefied Trevor’s brain. Because words have suddenly become a very elusive thing.
“I talked to my sister super early this morning before she went into the hospital,” Skyler says, ignoring his lack of communication skills. “She should be getting off at seven tonight, barring any crazy emergencies. Which happen a lot, but hopefully they won’t tonight because I’m dying to see her.”
“I’m sure.”
There. Those were words, weren’t they?
Skyler turns back to the stove. “And it’s going to be a gorgeous day, so I thought we could kill time until tonight by exploring the city a bit. Maybe walk the High Line?”
