I’d called the superintendent already and explained I was under duress. It didn’t make any difference, though. He’d told me that the school board vote was merely a formality.
No one terrified school officials like self-righteous parents. They wouldn’t want a camboy teaching their children, especially one catering to queer men. I was done in St. Louis, and there was no changing it now that the news was out.
A firm knock at the door made me jump, even though I’d been anticipating it for hours. Some deep, animal fear made me hesitate. What if it was Brick checking up on me?
“Shiloh?” a deep voice called. “It’s Holden.”
Breath gushed out of me. It didn’t make sense to be so relieved. I only knew Holden from the internet. People could present themselves however they wished. But, just as my gut told me Brick was dangerous, some instinct made me trust Holden.
I went to the door and opened it. Had to crane my neck back to look him in the eye. “Hi.”
Holden had shown me his face on camera tonight, but I wasn’t prepared for his presence. He was over six feet tall. Built. Shoulders and arms straining the fabric of his button-down shirt. A slim metal bracelet somehow emphasized the thickness of his wrist and the size of his hands, which were strong and veiny. Yum. Tattoos peeked out at his shirt collar, where he’d left the top two buttons undone.
He was just as intimidating as Brick. More, even. But contained and controlled in a way that jerk would never be.
“Can I come in?” he asked. “I could use the bathroom.”
I stumbled back. “Yeah, of course. Sorry. I was just…”
Staring. Evaluating his body as dangerous or sexy? Maybe both.
“This is all overwhelming, I’m sure,” he said, his voice gentler than I’d have expected. “I’m asking you for a lot of trust. I won’t abuse it.”
He’d sliced right to the heart of my unease and reassured me. I closed the door and pointed. “Bathroom is down that hall.”
“I’ll be quick. Then we can get loaded up and leave.”
When he returned, I noticed his eyes were red-rimmed, and his face showed signs of exhaustion.
“Let’s go if you’re ready,” he said. “If I sit down, I’ll never get up again.”
“I could drive if you need sleep,” I offered.
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“But—”
“Shiloh,” he said firmly. “I have to drive. I make a terrible backseat driver.”
“Okay.”
“Besides, you look pretty tired yourself. You’ve been through a lot. This is stressful and overwhelming.”
“Yeah.” I licked my lips. “I can’t decide if this is smart or if I’m crazy for taking a risk like this.”
His lips quirked up. “Then we’ll be crazy together.”
That was comforting. The realization that I wasn’t the only one putting my faith in someone else. Holden was opening his home to me. I could easily take advantage of him, but he was sticking his neck out to help me, anyway.
Holden and I gathered my duffels and the camera and lighting equipment to haul outside. I noticed his gaze sweep over my bedroom. Maybe taking in the setting where so many of my cam sessions took place.
When we got outside, the air was bitingly cold, stinging my cheeks, ears, and hands. I shivered in my puffy coat, watching my breath cloud the air as I followed Holden to the gray GTO parked at the curb.
“That’s what you drive?”
“My only indulgence.” His gaze ran over my body, head to toe. “Other than you, anyway.”
My stomach flip-flopped.
