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 ear 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.

“Wow, that was awesome,” I said when their performance was over.

Jeo nodded in agreement. “Gonna be hard for me to find something to tease him about after that.”

Next came a comedy sketch, then a violin solo, a gymnastics duo, and a ribbon dancer.

Matteo was up last, and his performance of I Will Always Love You with Dante accompanying him on the guitar brought down the house. There wasn’t a dry eye in the auditorium, and the applause sounded like thunder.

As Jeo and I made our way out the side exit, my hand clasped in his, I was smiling from ear to ear. The show had been a great success. A couple of weeks ago, when we’d realized how many important business owners were going to attend, we’d planned for a reception in one of the ballrooms after the show. Jeo and I headed for one of the back rooms offstage and quickly changed, chatting about the performances the whole time.

Morgan must have skipped the rest of the show and changed clothes so he could hustle to the reception because he was already there chatting with people when we walked in. He snagged us immediately.

“There they are! Jeo, Nick, I want you to meet Don Livingston and his wife Audrey. They own the Webopolis computer chain and were just praising your dancing.”

A balding, sixty-something man stepped forward and shook first Jeo’s hand, then mine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Your performance was very entertaining.”

Jeo responded, but I didn’t hear. My eyes were glued to the couple standing slightly behind the Livingstons.

“This is Nicholas Carpenter and Fiona Wilder, good friends of ours,” Mr. Livingston said, stepping aside so the couple could come forward. My eyes met my father’s, and other than a fleeting tick, he didn’t show any sign of knowing me.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand. I stared at it a moment before taking it. It was the first time I’d touched him in years. I watched as he shoved his hand into his coat pocket the moment we let go.

“Both of these men have generously donated to Rainbow House tonight,” Morgan said.

“My fiancée and I both believe in the importance of giving to charitable causes.” Fiona, the woman with my father, shook my hand next.

Jeo stared angrily at my father. When had my dad gotten engaged? Had my grandmother mentioned it to me? When Jeo opened his mouth to say something, I quickly interrupted. “That’s very nice of you to donate. Thank you. Rainbow House does wonderful work.”

“Your performance was spectacular, wasn’t it, Nicholas?” Fiona looked up at my father looked up at him. He kept the fake smile pasted to his face while he nodded.

“Yes, very entertaining.”

Looking into my father’s eyes, I saw a flash of fear in their depths—fear that I would tell his fiancée and his friends that I was his son. A part of me wanted to do it. Wanted to humiliate him by letting them know it was his gay son who had danced onstage with another man. I wanted it so badly I could taste the words on my tongue.

Tears stinging my eyes, I choked out, “Excuse me,” and walked away.

I burst through the exit door. My father had seen the show. He’d been here when Jeo and I danced. Had I known that, I never would have been able to go onstage.

And he was here with a woman he was evidently going to marry. My future stepmother. Only she’d never know me because he didn’t want her to. I wondered if she even knew he had a son.

He hadn’t wanted any of them to know.

The hurt was crippling.

I’d no sooner stepped out into the cool night air than Jeo was beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and leading me away from the building. He didn’t stop walking until we were well away from anyone who might walk by.

“Nick,” he said softly, and I clenched my teeth at the pity in his voice. Eyes smarting, I blinked rapidly while staring at the woods on the other side of the parking area behind him. “The man is a complete and utter bastard.”

I nodded slowly, lower lip trembling.

“He’s not worth it, honey. He’s not.” Jeo pulled me into his arms.

“I knew he hated me,” I said in a choked voice. “Knew he didn’t want to have anything to do with me. But I didn’t know how deep it went. So deep, he would pretend he didn’t know me rather than admit I was his s-son.” My voice broke, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hot tears coursing down my cheeks as Jeo combed his fingers through my hair. “Is it just because I’m gay? Is that what makes me so unlovable to him? But he was here tonight. He gave money to the cause.”

“I’m sure he was putting on a show for his girlfriend. And you’re not unlovable, sweetheart. Some people are just assholes.”

A sob escaped my throat. “But I’m his son! I’m a part of him! He loved my mother…why can’t he love me? What did I ever do to make him hate me so much? I can’t help who I’m attracted to. Doesn’t he know that if I could have changed that part of me so he’d love me, I would have?” I cried, big, racking sobs that shook me, while Jeo murmured into my hair.

“Of course you can’t help it, baby. Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s all him. There’s something cold and dark inside him—there has to be for him not to be proud to have a wonderful son like you.” Jeo gripped my face and pulled back, dark eyes boring into mine. “But I love you, Nick. I love you, and that’s never going to change. You hear me? You can take that to the bank.”

He kissed me, hard, and I gripped his back, trying to get closer, to crawl into the heat of his body where I’d stay forever if I could. Jeo loved me. Really loved me. And I believed it because I could feel it pouring off him and into me, filling the emptiness that had been with me so long, it had become a part of me.

“You ready to go home?” Jeo asked when we’d parted. I nodded, sniffling.

He wrapped his arm around me and led me to the car.

 

 

 

****

That night Jeo made love to me, taking me apart with long, slow strokes of his cock. He kissed my tears away and whispered to me how proud he was of me, how much he loved me, and that he’d never leave me. Gradually, with each caress and endearment, the hollowed out part inside me closed up until, by the time we lay curled together in my bed, bodies sated, the hurt I’d felt over my father barely registered anymore, and I doubted he could ever affect me so deeply again.