“Christ,” I mutter, worried about Summer and the baby.
“Never a dull moment around here,” Ben informs me.
“So I’ve learned.”
“She’ll be okay, babe,” Ethan reassures me. “She has to be.”
I nod, taking in Ethan’s worry. Fucking hell. Will we ever catch a break?
* * *
After my work out, I go to find Ethan in the studio. He’s lost in the rhythm of his bass, Xander banging on the drums. These two, they work so well together. Without them, the band would suck. That’s no lie. Without the rhythm, the songs fall flat.
I take a seat next to Damian who’s observing.
“What’s up man?” I ask.
“Just taking a breather,” Damian answers. “I’ll be gone a couple days. I wanted to see what’s going on with the band. I know they have the charity concert next weekend.”
I wince. Fuck. That’s the night of my underground fight in New York.
“Where’s the concert again?”
“Here, in L.A.” He’s eyeing me. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got a fight in New York that Saturday, so I’ll be gone Friday until Sunday. I didn’t want to miss this show.”
“I hear the worry, but rest assured man, there’s going to be so much security no one will be able to fart without someone knowing about it,” Damian says.
I nod. I’d still feel better being there for my boy. “If anything happens to him…” I trail off.
Damian levels his stare.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’ve got a gun,” I seethe.
Damian nods. “I can respect that. We’re doing everything humanly possible.”
It’s my turn to nod. “I can respect that.”
“Good.”
I exit the studio and confirm I’m set for the fight. The drama surrounding Ethan’s and my coming out has started to hit the fighting scene. More than one opponent has vocalized their disdain either on camera during an interview, on social media, or in print.
The world is filled with intolerant assholes… I wonder what kind of secrets these people have. Would ours be the worst or would theirs? I can’t imagine being gay is worse than being a bigot. You just know with someone who’s so easy to hate what they don’t understand, there’s plenty of skeletons in their closets.
I need to keep this as far away from Ethan as I can. He’s got enough to deal with. I hope Joan can help him work through this because I know it’s weighing him down—even if he isn’t talking about it much.
18
ETHAN
After jamming with Xan in the studio, I’m at another therapy session with Joan. This one I need.
“Ethan,” Joan begins. “You look stressed.”
I nod, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees, hands clasped loosely together, head hanging.
“What’s been going on?”
