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  “It’s so cool you get to live there with all your friends.” Sam looked jealous. “I lived with my aunt and uncle for most of college. My aunt and uncle who hated me.”

  “My first year I lived in the dorms. My parents were…” Elijah stopped, the urge to share abruptly washed over with the urge to self-protect.

  Mitch’s drawl was gentle, reassuring. “Randy told us your story. Glad you got out okay.”

  Elijah poked at his bowl, appetite gone. “Some days I’m less okay than others.”

  Sam put a hand near Elijah’s plate. “My mom died when I was seventeen after being sick all her life, and I had to live with the horrid aunt and uncle afterward. Mitch’s mom left when he was eight, meaning he was raised by his father who, from the sounds of it, would get along fine with yours. When Chenco was kicked out by his mother, he had to go live with their father—who then left the only home he had to the KKK when he died. We get it, Elijah. Trust me. We get it. And it’s okay. You’re okay. Even when you don’t feel it.”

  Elijah moved his gaze around the table, taking in the serious but understanding and accepting faces of the three men. He felt exposed…but also seen, and in a way making something deep inside him unwind. The same place inside him Randy had touched. Randy, who had been kicked out in high school and done tricks to survive, same as Elijah.

  “Family is essential. Find it, make it, seize it however you can. If it walks up to you and welcomes you home and you don’t have reason to doubt it’s real, don’t argue. Just go through the door.” Chenco winked and nudged Elijah’s bowl. “Eat your dinner. Anyone with that many hickeys on his neck had enough sex to require calorie replacement.”

  Elijah ate. He also, on the drive to the hotel, got out his phone and opened Facebook again. Pulled down the still-unanswered friend request from Penny.

  He didn’t know how to tell if the request was real or not, but he clicked accept anyway.

  THE DAY BEFORE New Year’s Eve, Elijah, Baz, Walter, and Kelly had a night on the town.

  They played at Herod’s for a bit in the afternoon, watched Caramela rehearse, then got dressed up to see what fun Vegas had to offer. While Baz waited for Elijah to finish his shower, he called home to talk to his mother.

  “You done being mad at me yet?” he asked when she answered.

  “I’m not angry with you.” She said this, but Baz could tell she was still disappointed he wasn’t going to be the center of her party preparations. “Are you having fun, at least?”

  “Yeah. It’s been different than I thought, but it’s all good.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I was wondering, though, if you planned to stop in Barrington Hills before you went to Minnesota? I have some swatches and a few more brochures I wanted you to peek at.”

  “No, afraid not,” he lied. He’d buy Walter and Kelly a plane ticket from Des Moines if he had to so they could collect their car, to keep from returning to his mother’s sphere of influence.

  She sighed and prattled on for another ten minutes about the wedding before Baz told her he had to go. Once he hung up, he texted Marius. Mom is driving me crazy. It’s enough to make me not want to get married.

  Don’t let her ruin it, Marius replied almost immediately. It’s your wedding. Not hers. Have it whatever way you want, and tell her to deal.

  If only, Baz thought wistfully, it were that simple.

  Elijah came out, and all thoughts of his mother and weddings were put aside as they went downstairs to meet Walter and Kelly to go to Zumanity. The show was pretty good, but the company was better. They got there in the Tesla—Walter drove, in deference to Elijah’s distaste for driving in cities—and went to some cozy place Ethan had recommended for a late dinner after. The four of them sat at their table for three hours, laughing and telling stories, teasing each other, dreaming of the future.

  “Do you really think you might go into politics?” Baz asked Walter midway through the meal.

  Walter shrugged and focused on tearing his dinner roll. “I wouldn’t mind. I keep going back and forth over whether or not I want to focus on that kind of law career. I want to have a family too. I don’t want my career to take precedence over everything. But yeah, if I could swing it, I’d love to make a difference through politics.”

  Kelly touched his arm. “If this is what you want, we’ll find a way to make it work. I mean…well, it would work, if I either worked from home or kept up our home as my job. Maybe everything lines up for us just right.”

  Walter kissed Kelly lingeringly before turning to Baz and Elijah with a twinkle in his eye. “What about the two of you? When do you start dipping your toe in the philanthropy business, Baz? And have you picked a major yet, Elijah?”

  Baz relayed what he knew Oliver Thompson had planned for him once he started his work with his foundation, and Elijah shared his tentative decision to major in English. They talked about Giles and Aaron’s latest composition project, about Lejla, Mina, Brian, Marius, and Damien, and Walter and Kelly’s friend Rose. They had good food, wine, and a great time.

  They drove to the hotel slowly, moonroof peeled open, music playing as they drank in the warm Vegas night.

  “Oh, look!” Kelly laughed and pointed out the window. “It’s one of those cheesy wedding chapels from the movies. And there they are, people going to get married.”

  Baz stared at the chapel too. But he didn’t laugh.

  When they got to Herod’s, the four of them hit the casino floor to play, landing on poker when they found Randy playing prop. Baz couldn’t focus, though, and when he saw Ethan on the other side of the room, he excused himself from Elijah and the others and went to talk to the casino owner.

  Ethan smiled as Baz approached. “Sebastian. How was the show?” He took in the gravity on Baz’s face and sobered too. “Is something wrong?”

  Baz hadn’t felt this weird since he was recovering from his fourth surgery. “I…had a question. The stuff you see in the movies about people getting married at the last minute in Las Vegas…is it real? Do people actually do that?”

  “Yes, they do. Not quite the way they do in the movies, but yes. More or less.” He frowned, trying to figure Baz out. “Why do you ask?”

  For a moment all the obligation and expectation from Chicago stopped him. Then Baz remembered how it had felt to hold Elijah in the back of the Tesla while the prettily lit world drifted by, and he fixed his mind’s eye on that tacky wedding chapel. “Because I want to get married. To Elijah. In Vegas. As soon as possible.”

  Chapter Eight

  THE CONFESSION HUNG in the air before Baz, wonderful and terrible all at once. He let out a sharp breath, then let out another one before Ethan put a hand on his elbow and steadied him.

  “Easy. Easy. There you go, you’re fine. What do you say we go sit in my office for a second, and we can talk about this wonderful idea of yours?”

  That sounded…maybe okay. Baz glanced over his shoulder. “I told Elijah I’d be right back.” I need to tell him we’re going to get married tonight.

  He hoped Elijah wanted to get married tonight.

  Ethan waved this thought aside as he pulled his phone out of his suit coat pocket. “I’ll spread the word you’re having a quick chat with me. I assume he’s with Randy at a poker table?”

  Ethan led Baz to a set of stairs, texting with his thumb on a smartphone keypad as they walked. He smiled at someone passing them as he tucked his phone away, his hand never leaving Baz’s arm. “Do you know, sometimes I stop and think about how there was a small, terrible expanse of time when I wanted nothing more than to put my life away, to sleep in darkness forever. I’m so glad I didn’t get to make that choice for myself.” He patted Baz’s arm and slipped around him to unlock a set of heavy wooden doors. “Today, I think, is one of those days.”

  Baz didn’t know what that was all about, but he followed Ethan through the doors anyway. It was a great office, old and pulsing with power and elegance. Ethan bid Baz to sit on one end of a beautiful blo
od-red leather sofa with wood accents and buttoned tufts. He went to a small bar beneath a window and sifted through bottles. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Scotch?”

  “Scotch it is.” Ethan brought two crystal glasses with liberal fingers-full of amber liquid and passed one to Baz as he arranged himself on the other end of the couch. “Now. Talk to me about this sudden need to get married. Or rather, why the need to get married suddenly. You said the other night you only became engaged a few weeks ago?”

  “Yeah.” Baz sipped at his drink, remembering. “I was going to propose to him, but he beat me to it. He roped our friends into singing a proposal to me, and he rewrote the lyrics to the song to match our story. It was so cheeseball. I loved it so much. He had someone taping it so I could watch it later. I’ve watched it about seventy times.”

  “Did you come to Vegas thinking you would elope? I didn’t get that impression when you first arrived.”

  “No, but…maybe I did. Elijah made a joke about it before we left, and when we drove by the Chapel of the Bells, everything came together. I mean, I came here because I wanted to give him some space from my mom who wants to turn everything into a society event. I knew she was making him nervous—me too, but I’m used to it. Elijah gets funny sometimes. Thinks he doesn’t deserve happiness. I wanted to give him some happiness by coming here, but I messed it up the first day. And this morning. Tonight was great, though. And as we drove by the chapel, I realized it was going to be crazy and stressful until we got through the wedding. But what if the wedding was now? Then we could move on and skip the stress.”

  Ethan wiped the side of his mouth with his thumb, trying to stay a smile and failing. “You do know marriages only get more stressful as they go forward, yes?”

  Baz clutched his drink. “You don’t understand. It’s my family. They intimidate Elijah. They don’t mean to, and I think he gets too sensitive about it. His family was awful, and I think part of him can never accept someone actually wants him for him. If we’re married, he’ll have to understand that.”

  “He might not, actually. Shaking those negative voices can be a lifelong struggle. I wish I could tell you marriage erased all the problems our loved ones face, but the truth is, it only adds a new set of issues.”

  Ethan’s words stabbed Baz in the heart, and when he tried to draw a breath to rebut, he found his chest too tight to respond. Tears pricked his eyes, and he slipped a thumb and forefinger under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and keep them at bay.

  A hand rested gently on his knee, reassuring. “Shh, it’s okay. I apologize, that came out clumsy. I didn’t mean to imply Elijah wouldn’t be able to get over his past.” He hesitated before adding, “Or you yours.”

  “I need to find a way to show him how I feel.” The words came out ragged, little daggers from Baz’s heart. “I can’t lose him.”

  “Do you feel this is a possible danger? Because he doesn’t strike me as someone looking to leave.”

  “I can’t figure him out half the time. I can get everybody else to do what I want with money or with charm, but with him, I never know. I can’t spend the next year hoping my mom doesn’t drive him away because she had to have me get married at the resort of someone she’s trying to impress. I don’t want to have to always be checking to make sure he isn’t retreating into himself and away from me. I know marriage isn’t magic, that it won’t keep him from running away, but…” The tears escaped down Baz’s cheeks, and he gave up trying to hide them.

  Ethan passed Baz a handkerchief, rubbing his shoulder while he dabbed at his eyes. “Have you told him any of this?”

  “He’d only get mad at me.”

  “I somehow doubt it, if you told him the way you just told me.”

  Baz tightened the handkerchief in his fist. “I still want to marry him now. Everything inside me lets go when I think about it. The only thing I regret is our friends would miss it, but I’d rather apologize to them than wait until I’m in a state where there’s a waiting period. My mom would find out, somehow, and she’d come try to stop it.”

  “Your mother sounds rather a force to be reckoned with. Have you tried talking to her about any of this?”

  Baz snorted. “Daily. The only time she began to take my concerns seriously was when I told her we were running away to Vegas to escape her planning. But even then she argued that she was extremely subdued. Trouble is, she was. That’s what terrifies me. At some point she’ll unleash, and Elijah will lose it.”

  “What do you want, Sebastian? I’ve heard a lot about what would be good for Elijah and what your mom prefers. What about you?”

  Baz shut his eyes and swam back to the moment in the Tesla. “I want Elijah. Forever. Starting immediately. I’ve wanted it a lot longer than we’ve been engaged. If I hadn’t thought he’d scowl at me, I’d have dragged him off to Vegas to get married a long time ago.”

  “If you weren’t afraid he might disappear, would you prefer a longer engagement and a ceremony with your friends? Maybe not at a venue of your mother’s choosing, but somewhere you and Elijah picked out?”

  Baz shook his head. “Only if Elijah wanted to do that. He thinks I care about showing off, that I need something fancy, but I don’t. I only want him. Everything else is noise.”

  Ethan was quiet a moment. Then he sighed, squeezing Baz’s shoulder once more before letting it go. “Well, you’ve sold me, I’m not afraid to admit. And I’d be happy—honored—to help you plan your Las Vegas wedding. There’s just one tiny detail you should probably take care of first.”

  Yeah. Just one detail. “You mean, I need to talk to Elijah about it.”

  “Yes, I think it would be best. And here’s a hint: don’t try to bribe him or charm him. Tell him how you feel. Straight up.”

  Baz’s gut twisted. “I’d rather take off my glasses and stare up at the midday sun.”

  “You’ll be fine. I promise you.” Ethan leaned forward and kissed the side of Baz’s head before ruffling his hair. “Drink some more liquid courage, and we’ll go join your friends.”

  Baz downed the scotch in one gulp, letting it burn his throat and his belly, but the butterflies in his stomach flapped on, undeterred.

  BAZ WAS ACTING weird, and Elijah couldn’t figure out why.

  He’d been fine during the show and dinner—great, even. He’d been quiet before he disappeared with Ethan, but he was extra weird after. He was almost desperate as they made love before going to bed—which was fun in one respect, but worrying in context of his general weirdness. Elijah had thought maybe it was a fluke, that a good night’s sleep would chase Baz’s demons away. But when they woke, Baz was just as quiet and unsettled. After more desperate sex, he fell asleep, but Elijah was wide awake.

  Elijah didn’t know what to do. He checked Facebook for the millionth time, terrified and frustratingly eager to see what Penny said, but she hadn’t so much as liked a post or messaged him or anything. He kind of wanted to talk to Randy, but it was early, and he felt self-conscious over how much he’d bothered the guy already. Walter and Kelly didn’t feel right, and Aaron and Giles would annoy him. So he called Mina.

  Afterward, he kind of wished he hadn’t.

  “I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to him,” she said. “What’s so hard about asking him what’s wrong?”

  “Because it seems like something serious, and he’s freaking me out.”

  “But this is all the more reason to ask him.” She sighed, clearly frustrated. “How in the world do you expect to have a successful marriage with him if you can’t talk to him?”

  Elijah hugged himself tighter and lowered his voice as he stared at the closed door to the bedroom. “Maybe we shouldn’t be married. Maybe it’s what he’s thinking.”

  “Oh my God, Elijah, it’s not what he’s thinking.”

  Her annoyance annoyed Elijah, and he cut the call short after that. But he still felt unsteady, craving a cigarette more than he could say. When he
found Baz’s joint from Randy and felt the tug of need in his belly, he left the suite and wandered the hotel, hoping to find something to distract him from his fears and his latent addictions.

  He discovered, to his delight, the theater doors were unlocked, letting him inside to peek at Chenco rehearsing as Caramela for her New Year’s Eve act. Elijah settled into the back, and for an hour he forgot all his troubles, enjoying himself immensely as he watched the dry run for a real-life, full-scale production drag show. Caramela was as good as any performer Elijah had ever watched on RuPaul’s Drag Race, and certainly better than the amateur shows he’d seen in bars over the years. To his delight, when she took a break, she came down from the stage and sauntered over to perch on an armrest on the row of chairs across from Elijah.

  “Hello, darling.” Caramela spoke with a slight Latin accent, which was disarming because Chenco didn’t have one. “How are you enjoying the performance?”

  “It’s fantastic.” Elijah grinned. “I love drag shows. Yours is amazing.”

  “Thank you.” She touched her hair lightly, an elegant preen. “What about you? Have you done drag?”

  Elijah shook his head. “I prefer watching. I don’t go in for the showy stuff.”

  “But you’re a writer, so you still have an artist’s soul. You prefer to stay behind the scenes is all.” Her smile was wry. “That must be a challenge with such a showboat of a fiancé.” When Elijah’s face fell, hers did too, and she crossed to sit beside Elijah. “What happened, sweetheart? Did the two of you have a fight?”

  “It’s just been tense lately. Yesterday was good for a while, and then he went weird last night.” Elijah wrapped his arms tighter around himself. “I know you said to trust family, and I want to, but it’s so hard to trust this. We haven’t been engaged long, and it’s already stressful. I’m afraid we’ll never make it to actually getting married. My friend back home says it would all be fine if we talked to each other, but she doesn’t understand it’s not so simple with us.”