When we finally came up for air, he thunked his head back against the door frame. “Shit. Someone might see.”
“Then let them.”
Taylor’s brows knotted together.
After everything he’d just heard me say—or rather,notsay—I understood his confusion.
“I didn’t confirm anything to Cochran because I’m not giving that man my story,” I explained. “That’s not the same as hiding.” I held his gaze. “And I’mdonehiding.”
CHAPTER 35
TAYLOR
Now that Sebastian’scampaign had wrapped, he was taking some time to figure out his next move. The obvious answer was for him to head back to D.C. There was always another candidate who needed someone with his skill set.
Of course, I hadn’t said anything, but what was even more surprising was that neither had he, which either meant he was being considerate of my feelings or he was dreading the conversation as much as I was.
So when this roadie put the team in New York the week after the election, inviting him to tag along had been a no-brainer.
Somehow, he’d managed to score last-minute tickets to a Broadway show, though he had been somewhat cagey about who he now owed a favor to.
Truth be told, I was more of an action-adventure movie guy. Give me car chases and explosions, and I was a happy man.
Looking around, I didn’t expect much of that here.
Though honestly, it wasn’t even about the show for me. Being able to go on an actual date with the man I loved was a dream come true. Twenty-one-year-old Taylor never would have imagined a night like this.
“Remind me again what this is about?” I asked, flipping through the pages of the yellow booklet I’d been handed when we walked in.
“It’s a love story set in 1930s Berlin as the Nazis come to power,” Sebastian explained as we crept forward in line at the bar to order twenty-dollar pre-mixed cocktails.
“How romantic,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled. “Definitely not a romance, but I think you'll love it. The Emcee is one of the best characters ever created.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I murmured as my eye snagged on an unexpectedly familiar face.
“Sebastian.” I tugged on the arm of his sweater.
“Hmm?” He made a noncommittal sound, his gaze fixed on the toned dancer undulating atop a nearby platform as sitar music floated through the air.
I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Am I going crazy, or is that your dad?”
His gaze snapped back to me. “What? Where?”
I tipped my head subtly toward the corner, where a silver-haired man in a charcoal suit loomed beside a rail-thin woman whose auburn hair was twisted into a tight bun.
Sebastian’s dad had called him twice since Wyatt’s announcement, but he’d sent each call directly to voicemail. Later, Sebastian told me his messages were exactly as he had predicted—surprise followed by anger, topped off with baseless accusations.
“Please tell me that’s not how you got these tickets.”
“Of course not. I haven’t spoken to either of my parents in months.” He shook his head, his brows pinched. He didn't look angry so much as supremely confused. “What are they doing at like, the most unapologetically queer show in the history of the world?”
Across the room, Mr. Carruthers’s head turned, and I saw the moment he registered his son’s presence. His eyes widened, and for a brief second, he went deathly still. Then he leaned down and said something in his wife’s ear. Her head shot toward us, and then, suddenly, they were moving in our direction.
“I don’t know, but it looks like we’re about to find out,” I murmured, pressing my hand to the small of Sebastian's back before thinking better of it. I dropped my hand back down to my side, my fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm against my thigh.
The fact that he hadn’t spoken to his parents meant they were still in the dark about his sexuality. Well, as much as they could be given the gossip about the nature of their son’s relationship with Senator Hastings.
