To my left, Tony gaped at the impersonator while to my right, our brothers struggled to keep from laughing. "Marilyn" took the microphone from the stand and took a couple tentative steps in our direction. She inhaled, turning her head to the right before squaring her shoulders and lifting the microphone to her lips.
"Happy...birthday...to you." Unlike the huge show during Pride, this wasn't a track the performer was singing along with. It was really her. She was good. When she got closer, I realized Freddie hadn't lied earlier when he said nothing was wrong with Peter. Peter was Marilyn.
I looked at Tony who had obviously realized the same and looked like he was in physical pain, trying to not spring wood for the second time while watching our future brother-in-law performing in drag.
Marilyn maintained the breathy, stilted delivery to the very last note. From what I'd heard of the original version, Peter had flawlessly pulled off Marilyn's infamous rendition of “Happy Birthday”. After the last word, she turned off the microphone, handing it to Max who wasn't far behind her keeping customers from accosting the beautiful blonde in their midst. Seeing him acting like a bodyguard was hot. I wondered if he was into role playing at all because I wouldn't mind playing Whitney to his Kevin Costner.
Marilyn leaned forward, fisting the front of Tony's shirt in her hand. "Happy birthday, beautiful," she said, still maintain the breathy tone of Marilyn's voice. Then, in a move sure to have Tony at full attention, she closed the distance between them and kissed him hard enough to leave bright red lipstick smears across his face. Then, she shuffled over to me, giving me a much more subdued peck on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Enzo. Was it worth it?"
"Oh yeah," I responded, laughing because it looked like Tony's poor brain was about to explode. "Thank you."
Peter moved down the line, accepting hugs from the other brothers as well as Levi and his friends who'd joined us at some point. I expected Peter to go back and change into his street clothes, but he apparently wanted to torture Tony further by spending the rest of the evening in his evening gown that left nothing to the imagination other than where in the hell his dick was hiding and how he managed those hips and that ass.
"Did you know about this?" Tony asked once he regained the ability to form a coherent thought.
"Nope. Even when Freddie sent me to find you, he refused to tell me what was going on," I informed him.
Max pulled up a barstool and pushed his way between us. Where everyone could see, he draped an arm over Tony's shoulder. Out of their view, he slid a hand up my thigh. "Think you boys can forgive me?"
"You knew about this?" Tony gaped at him. "Like, you knew before just a little while ago?"
"Why do you think I was trying to hype the band playing so hard?" he asked, laughing at Tony's mock scowl. "If there's ever a night you say you're not coming down, it's when there's a band playing. You hate the crowds. Seriously, it didn't seem strange to you there was a table reserved right at the stage for your family?"
"You mean that's not a regular occurrence?" Well damn, strike that from the list of perks.
"Maybe a little, but I figured you were being nice since I'd told you everyone was coming out tonight," Tony admitted. "And here I thought I was special."
"Oh, you are, babe," Max reassured him. "Just not special enough for prime seating most nights. Besides, I'd much rather have you up at the bar where I can check out your ass when you get up to dance."
Max pulled Tony closer and kissed him. Then, he turned to me, giving me little more than a platonic peck before he stood. "Happy birthday, Enzo."
"You're not going to hang out for a bit?" Frankie asked, clapping Max on the shoulder. "Thanks again for helping us put this together tonight."
"You know I'm always game for anything that'll leave Tony speechless," he quipped, shooting me a devilish smirk. "I should be able to sneak out after the band starts back up. Eli’s probably back there cursing me already for being gone this long."
"Good thing you had Cal talk him into letting you take your break during intermission, huh?" Frankie gave Max a quick one-arm hug, thumping him on the back as he whispered something in Max's ear. Max responded with a simple quirk of his eyebrow.
My gut twisted as I watched Frankie and Max interact. I'd been so focused on our little bubble I'd never stopped to consider how what we were doing would impact other people. Would their friendship survive if and when we stopped hiding? Would they blame Max rather than believe we all wanted to be together?
As I watched Max walk away, he held up five fingers and jerked his head to the side. I nodded, letting him know I'd break away soon to meet up with him. He'd disappeared through the crowd before I finally let out my breath. Somehow, I realized in that moment, we'd figure out how to be okay. If our friends and family figured out what we were doing, we'd face them together. All three of us.
"Please tell me you're not crushing on Tony's boyfriend." Matteo's observation snapped my attention back to the table. Luckily, everyone else was still rehashing Tony's epic reaction, once again, to seeing Peter in drag.
"Nope, not crushing on anyone," I lied. Or maybe it wasn't a lie since what I felt for Max went way beyond a crush. I swallowed hard, trying to clear my throat.
"You sure about that? You were watching him pretty intently for a straight boy," he quipped. Since he'd been with Levi, Matteo had become much more outgoing and no longer kept his thoughts to himself. Most of the time, that was a good thing. Tonight, it pissed me off, and I'd had just enough alcohol to say what was on my mind.
"That's funny." I tipped back my drink, draining the glass in a single swallow. "You'd think people in this family would know by now assuming anyone's going to be the token straight guy is a bad bet. Sorry to burst your bubble, but Freddie's the closest we get to straight."
I shoved away from the table and stormed outside, needing to get some air. Tony called after me, but I pretended I couldn't hear him over the drone of the crowd gearing up for the band's return to the stage. I plowed through the door to the smoking patio, doubling over when I found a quiet corner. Fuck, it was so much harder than I'd thought it would be. I was finally, fucking finally, happy, and I couldn't tell anyone.
"Hey, what's going on?" Tony asked, keeping his voice low and steady as he led me to a bench along the outer wall.
He rubbed my back, giving me time to talk, or not. What I really wanted was for us to be someplace I wouldn't have to worry about being interrupted so he could just hold me and tell me it would all be okay. I wanted to go back to our bubble and keep the rest of the world out. Most of all, I wanted off this fucking roller coaster where I went from feeling like we could conquer the world to convinced it would implode around us the moment someone knew our secret in a matter of minutes.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he offered.
"No, Frankie and the guys planned this for us. I need to get over the bullshit in my head."
