“Me too,” Sean added.
“You got it,” Tony replied with a smile.
Sean and I returned to our seats, and Greg took his place back at the piano. Before playing, he stood again and waved his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank our surprise guest performer, Mr. Jeremy Fitzgerald. If you don’t know who he is, look him up on YouTube. Please give him another round of applause.”
There was more cheering and clapping, which quieted down when Greg started playing.
I settled against Sean’s side with his arm around my shoulders. He leaned over and asked, “Do you think that’s going to cause you problems?”
“What?”
He gestured toward Greg. “He kinda outed you to the crowd here.”
I looked out at the people in the bar. A bunch of them had their phones in their hands and were typing furiously and then darting furtive glances at me. I shrugged. “I don’t think it will be a big deal. It’s not like I’m Bruce Springsteen.”
Sean shrugged. “Eh. Springsteen usually goes to the Stone Pony. I hear he’s pretty chill if people want to talk to him.”
I smirked. “I promise to be chill about it if people come up to me.”
Sean turned his head so his lips grazed my ear. “What if I want you to be hot?”
A shiver ran down my spine and heat pooled in my groin. I shifted so I could press my lips to his cheek. “What if I told you I want to ride that thick cock of yours until neither of us can see straight? Is that hot enough for you?”
Sean groaned and surreptitiously adjusted himself. “Fuuuck, baby. That was just plain evil.”
I chuckled softly and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. He turned his head, took my face in his big hands, and kissed me long and deep, his tongue tangling with mine in an erotic dance. Someone cleared their throat behind us, and Tony leaned in and said quietly, “People are taking pictures. I don’t know if you want that all over the internet.”
For the briefest of moments, I felt the fizz of panic course through me. Pierce was always hyperaware of his image—and mine as well. He would never show affection publicly because he didn’t want it on social media. Of course, he rarely showed affection in private either, so it hardly mattered. Sean, on the other hand, was always touching me—a hand on the small of my back, a light touch on my arm, holding my hand walking down the street—and I, frankly, couldn’t get enough of it. I shrugged and said to Tony, “So what? I could do worse than being seen with this gorgeous man. Let them talk.”
Sean smiled broadly and brushed my cheek with his thumb. “You think I’m gorgeous, huh?”
I kissed his nose. “Yes.”
He laughed and pulled me close. “I can’t wait to get you home and in my bed.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I murmured.
Sean and I settled back to listen to the rest of Greg’s set while Tony glared the picture-takers into submission. Greg moved into playing show tunes, and Sean and his crew sang along with gusto and great harmonies. I joined them—quietly. My singing voice had never been very strong. Sean heard me, though, and turned to smile at me, seemingly pleased that I was enjoying myself. It was such a departure from everything I was used to, from everything I thought I was supposed to want. It occurred to me that I had spent most of my life trying to please everyone around me but had done very little to please myself. Sean’s unfettered joie de vivre opened new possibilities I had never considered before. Evan had always tried to get me to lighten up, but at the time, I had been too deep into thinking I had something to prove. It took nearly losing everything to show me there was another way to live. And maybe this man by my side would be the one to join me on that journey.
TWENTY-FIVE
SEAN
So, was it bad that I wanted my friends to shut the fuck up so I could take Jeremy home and wreck him? They were excited about the fundraiser, especially since Jeremy invited Greg and Isaiah to play. They wrangled invitations from Jeremy, and all promised to make generous donations. A couple of them knew about Family Promise, but most had never heard of the organization. I did remind him to make sure he invited my mother, and he promised to give her a front-row seat.
Finally, finally, finally, we were in my car and headed back to the hotel after arranging with Tony to have him and his crew come install the security cameras the following day. I told him not to show up too early, or they’d be out of luck. I planned to spend a very long time getting my fill of Jeremy Fitzgerald. A few minutes into the drive, Jeremy asked, “Would I be able to use the restaurant for rehearsal Saturday morning?”
“I don’t see why not,” I replied. “We don’t serve breakfast in there.” I thought about it for a minute. “Is that going to be enough time?”
Jeremy shrugged. “I was planning to have everyone come super early so we could get a few hours in before you had to open for lunch.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t seem like it’s long enough. I can close the dining area for lunch and just have people eat in the bar area. We don’t usually get that many people for lunch.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” he protested.
Using his words, I retorted, “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”
