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He grunts, turning on the faucet and washing his hands. “I do have it all.”
He tries to give me the cocky Axel Lennon persona bullshit he uses for the camera. But I ignore it, placing both my hands flat on the counter, one on each side of him, and my groin against his ass, as I look at him in the mirror. “Cash would have your back, without a doubt. You could keep your image and be out without any issues, and still you hide.”
“Fuck you, Sebastian. I could say the same to you.”
“Cash isn’t my agent. Mine would kill me. Told me he would, in fact.”
He grimaces slightly at that before turning off the faucet and schooling his features back to impervious. “He can’t say that.”
“He does,” I say because my agent couldn’t give a flying fuck about me. And I’m locked in. He knows he owns me. And he’s told me repeatedly this can’t happen. That I’m not allowed to be me.
His back straightens, but he doesn’t push me away. I wait for him to offer some sort of advice. To tell me it would be okay if I decided to say fuck it and just tell the world my truth. But this is Axel. And I’m an idiot. “So quit,” he says, shooting a careless grin at me in the mirror, his red lips pulled up at the corners.
I roll my eyes at him, hating the disappointment I feel because it’s never going to happen. It’s every man for himself in the racing world. “You wish.”
Something passes over his face, like maybe he wants to say more, but of course, he doesn’t.
He just moves away from me, grabbing his jacket and heading to the bar to take another shot of whiskey. I grab my own jacket, making sure I’m presentable and don’t bother risking another glance in his direction as I leave the suite to go back to the event.
When the fuck will I learn?
4
AXEL
I ride down in the elevator alone, feeling the same way I always feel when I’m finished with Sebastian.
Alone. On a high. Angry.
Because I should have told him he can do whatever the fuck he wants. I should have told him to fire that worthless fucking agent of his, but I didn’t. I took the easy way out, like I always do, because my life was nothing but hard until I finally made it.
And now, I don’t want to go back to that shit.
He probably could though. He could quit and be himself. Free, as he says.
It might not change anything for him. He’ll still be beautiful and the man everyone looks up to. Role model for little kids. The good guy.
No matter what I do, I’ll be the bad one.
“Where the fuck have you been?” My eyes widen, startled as fuck to see Cash standing on the other side of the elevator doors and glaring at me like I’ve never seen before.
My body breaks out in a sweat as my heart threatens to explode. Did he see? Does he know? Shit. “What are you talking about?” I try to play it cool as I hop off the elevator, but it’s clear Cash isn’t buying it.
He takes my arm, and instead of leading me into the ballroom, we go out on the back patio. It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, and Cash doesn’t seem to notice anyway. He’s seething. “Are you really this fucking stupid?”
I flinch because I think he knows. I think he has for a while. It’s just not something we ever talk about. But I never thought he’d have a problem with me being into guys.
“You tell me,” I snap.
His eyes search mine, his anger so intense I feel it in my bones, and it makes me sick. I’ve known I was gay since I was a teenager. But in the foster care system, when you’re being passed around from home to home, when your own parents can’t get it together enough to keep you, you learn quickly that being yourself isn’t an option. That you have to adapt to the world. And when I started racing, I knew the audience. I knew I’d still have to adapt.
So I’ve hidden who I am. I’ve played the bad boy and distracted them. But the way Cash is looking at me right now—goddammit, I’m not as unbothered by it as I pretend to be.
“I think you’re really fucking stupid. Do you know how many people could have caught you coming out of the same hotel as Sebastian fucking Harris? Do you have any idea?”
“I didn’t take you for a homophobe, Cash,” I bite out bitterly and try to push past him, but he doesn’t let me pass.
“I don’t give a fuck about your sexual orientation, asshole.” My eyes snap up to his as I search for the lie. One I don’t see, but he’s definitely mad. That part I know without a doubt. “You want to come out right this second, you say the goddamn word. But you let me know. And don’t do it in a fucking scandal. And don’t out him at the same time.” He points behind him, and I know he’s talking about Sebastian.
