Leo cradles my face in his hands. “You’re doing great, baby. I swear.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
He kisses me, and for a moment I can forget about the rest of the world. “You ready to go home?”
I nod.
“Did you eat today?”
“Yes, Sir.” I couldn’tnoteat if I tried. Bob apparently has orders from Leo to make sure I’m eating and drinking water.
As do most of the agents driving me around the past several weeks, ever since there was a day I realized I barely ate or drank anything and nearly passed out late that afternoon from dehydration and my blood sugar tanking, and Leo found out about it.
“Okay.” He drapes his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go home, baby boy.”
I love it when he calls me that.
On the ride home, I lie on the backseat with my head in Leo’s lap. He doesn’t make me talk, but he chats with Bob like there’s not a thing wrong in the world.
Once we’re in our bedroom, Leo takes over, stripping me before he undresses, bathing me, then cuddling with me in bed, with me draped over him.
If we’re not having sex, like right now, we’re always cuddling. It took me a couple of weeks to realize it was because Leo was literally starving for physical contact.
I don’t know how Elliot can stand not being touched, how he can sleep alone every night. Now that I’ve been with Leo, I think sleeping alone for prolonged periods would suck. Sure, I don’t mind the occasional night or two alone. Hell, I didn’t have anyone to share a bed with before Leo, and I was surviving just fine.
Elliot’s locked himself in a self-imposed prison. It makes me feel even sorrier for him, and makes me more determined to win him over.
Leo feathers his lips over my temple. “Try to get some sleep, baby. Just a couple more days before life settles down.”
Somehow, I manage to sleep that night. But it’s filled with nightmares of everything being screwed up, of all the furniture getting lost, of Elliot hating the final design—and hating me.
Of a shooter walking into the club, shooting Leo, who’s trying to shield me with his body, and then shooting me.
I startle awake in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, just to have Leo hook an arm around me and spoon against my back.
“I’m here, baby boy. You’re safe. It’s all right. It was just a nightmare.”
As my pulse slows, the nightmare dissolving, I try to anchor myself to Leo’s comforting scent. Sometimes he also has bad dreams. I know his usually have to do with the plane crash, but he doesn’t like to discuss that, or his nightmares.
He said he doesn’t have them as often as he used to, and even less so with me in his bed.
Maybe one day these nightmares of mine will clear up. I think I prefer my previous nightmares, of my father chasing me onto the plane and dragging me off it. Or of my parents showing up at Mimi’s house and dragging me out to an awaiting car and forcing me to attend some evil gay conversion camp.
As we approach Inauguration Day, I’m increasingly nervous and convinced Elliot’s going to hate the final result. To the point that I’m glad I have to be out the door at 4 a.m. Inauguration Day morning to attend a final prep meeting with the Chief Usher and the heads of all the work crews.
It’s too late to change anything now. If Elliot hates it…then he hates it. And probably me with it.
It shouldn’t bother me this much.
But I want him to like it. I want him to likeme.
More importantly, I want to make Leo happy that I made Elliot happy.
Is that…weird?
All I know is I barely remember to drink water throughout the day.
Okay, so maybe Leo was right to ask the agents who shepherd me around to keep an eye on me in that way.
