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“So your old girlfriend got you into makeup?”
“Ah, no, not really. It didn’t start as makeup,” he explains. “She was completely obsessed with nail polish. She had a collection of, like, five hundred colors and changed colors pretty much every day. Anyway, one night she convinced me to let her paint my toes just as a joke. But…I liked it. I really loved walking around knowing that the absolutelastthing people would expect is for me to have sparkly pink toenails under my sneakers. It was just a really cool feeling. So I started experimenting with some other things as well.”
“Like lingerie?” I ask. Honestly, one of the hottest things I’ve ever encountered was when Finn confessed he had the same pair of panties I was wearing the second time we hooked up. I think the only thing that would have topped it is if he’d actually been wearing them.
The corner of his lips curve up. “Yeah, like lingerie. And makeup, obviously.”
“Have you ever taken it further?” I ask curiously.
“Are you asking if I’ve ever gone full drag?”
I chuckle. “Maybe.”
I have to pause in my blush application for a moment as Finn’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Maybe. Just a couple times around the house.”
I stare it him, wide-eyed. Nowthatis something I wasn’t expecting. “Wow. That’s something I’d definitely like to see. Have you ever thought of performing?”
“As a drag queen? God, no.”
I purse my lips, a little taken aback by his incredulity. “Therearestraight drag queens, you know.”
He lets out a soft sigh. “I know. I didn’t mean to sound like such a dick just now. Trust me, that’s not why I wouldn’t want to do it.”
Okay, now I’m curious. “Then why?”
“Well, for one thing, I’d be terrible at it,” he says, almost regretfully.
I arch an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know…I’ve seen you strut around on the karaoke stage. You’re pretty good.”
He rolls his eyes. “I can belt out a Springsteen song. That’s pretty different to performing in a drag show. I can’t dance and I’m terrible at lip syncing.”
I chuckle. “Okay, fair.”
“That’s not the only reason, though,” Finn says, almost hesitantly.
I have a feeling that this second reason is more important than a lack of lip syncing skills, so I set the contouring brush down and lean back a little, giving him my full attention. “What’s the other reason?”
“It’s just…this whole thing…” he lifts a hand to gesture at his face. “I don’t usually share this with other people.” He shifts his gaze to mine, eyes shining with vulnerability. “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever shared it with. Usually it’s just for me.”
I stare at him in surprise. This isn’t something I’d considered before. It was only our second hook-up that Finn revealed this aspect of his personality to me so I kind of assumed it was something other people—at the very least other sexual partners—knew about.
“It’s not that I’m ashamed of it, or worried about what people will think,” he rushes to clarify. “It’s just…” he lets out a heavy sigh, giving a slight shake of his head. “Argh, it’s really hard to explain.”
I offer a soft smile. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
He draws in a deep breath. “Okay, so it’s kind of like this: I’m a jock. I’ve always been a jock and I always will be one. And I love it,” he says simply, adding a small shrug. “I love rugby. I love that I was able to play professionally, and I love that now I’m retired I have a job that revolves around the sport. Walking into that locker room after winning a match is one of the greatest feelings in the world,” he says with a broad grin. “Don’t even get me started on how it feels to win a championship.”
I smile and pick up an eyeshadow palette and brush, returning my attention to his makeup as he talks.
“So, I’m sure you can imagine wearing makeup and lingerie is pretty much as far against the grain as it goes in my world. And that’s what I like about it,” he explains. “I mean, I love being a jock, but I also love having this tiny little part of my life that’s so far removed from that.”
My brow draws together in concern. “And you feel like if people knew about this you’d lose that? Like you’d have to give up your jock card or something?”
He gives a sharp shake of his head, causing me to curse as I smudge his eyeshadow.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “But no, that’s not what I meant. This isn’t some toxic masculinity bullshit. It’s like I was saying earlier about my toenails—the thing I loved most about it at the start was that nobody knew. It was just this fun secret I had and nobody who looked at me would ever be able to guess it. I know it sounds kind of dumb, but I just don’t want to lose that part of it.”
“It’s not dumb,” I assure him. “You’re entitled to your privacy. But, can I ask—if it’s something you want to keep hidden…why did you tell me about it? I’m really glad you did, but you didn’t have to. It’s not like I caught you in drag or something.”
