Chapter Nine
Adam waited until the bullfighters were out in the arena warming up before he went after Dillon Walsh. The clown was still putting on his make-up and wouldn’t go out until about fifteen minutes before the show.
“Hey, Dill, can we talk?” Adam didn’t mean to make the man jump like that, but damn the music was loud.
“Hey, Tag.” Dillon offered him a smile, a bottle of water. “Something wrong?”
God, it was good to have a friend that was…well, queer. Genuinely, honestly queer as a three-dollar bill. Not just sleeping with his traveling partner. His brothers weren’t much on chatter, and the rest of his buddies would plug their ears at what he was about to say.
“I need to know what to do, man. I got this thing. With Landon.”
“The wee Cajun? Nutbutter? Really?” Dillon blinked, then nodded. “I can see that. You’ve got one hell of a sex drive.”
“You ought to know.” He and Dill had torn up the hotel a couple of nights, right after the man had been dumped by a certain arena announcer. Back before Coke. “That’s not my realproblem, though. He’s great. I, uh, forgot the condom last time we were together.”
“Oh.” Dillon’s lips twisted. “I. Okay. Well, are you worried? I mean, is he willing to get a blood test? They have quick tests now, at the damned CVS.”
“I’m not worried about him, okay?” Adam scratched the back of his neck, which was prickly hot with embarrassment. “I’m worried that I might give him something. I haven’t been tested since Beau.”
“Oh. Oh! But… You’ve been careful, right? You always were, with me.” Dillon took a breath. “Look, that doesn’t matter now. Now you need to get a test and know, for both of you.”
“I know. I’ll make an appointment. I just don’t even know how to talk to him about it. He—I swear, Dill, he trusts me. What if I fuck up?” It scared him to death. He wasn’t sure he’d even felt this good with Beau, ever, and he’d thought Beau was the love of his life. This kid… Fuck, Landon was young.
“You’ll fuck up. We all do, huh? Shit, Tag, isn’t the important part what happens when we do?” Dillon spent too much fucking time with Coke Pharris. The man had a philosophy about life that was like no one else’s.
That didn’t mean Adam didn’t need to hear it. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Just tell him you want to do the tests and then, when everything’s okay, yay.”
“Except he’ll think I don’t trust him.” He did. Implicitly.
“Has he said anything, since it happened?”
“No.” Not about that, at least. Landon talked to him all the time, about everything under the sun.
The kid hadn’t said a word about going bareback, or about saying the whole four letter word starting with an ‘L’. Hell, Landon was here, wasn’t he? With Cotton and Kynan and the Aussies. Maybe Adam just needed to go see him.
“You think he’ll be pissed, man?”
Dillon gave him the respect of thinking before answering. “I think if he was, he would have already said something.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” Landon wasn’t shy and retiring. Adam sighed. “How are you and Pharris doing?”
“Good. He’s feeling looser in the neck, and he and Nate have been working Sterling’s ass off.”
“Yeah? You had a little, uh…” He didn’t want to say fit, but Dillon sure had thrown one. “Talk with Sterling, right? About Coke?”
“You mean the part where I threw my big queeny weight around and told him to the back the fuck off my bullfighter?”
“Exactly.” Adam winked. Dillon could be bitchy. “I can only admire your technique.”
“Sometimes it’s good to be the clown with the huge contract, man.” Dillon preened some.
“You’re scary, Dill.” Adam patted Dillon on the shoulder, knowing you never hugged the clown once he had partial greasepaint on. “Thanks, man.”
“Anytime. Don’t stress it, just be smart, huh?” Dillon squeezed his fingers, smiling for him, encouraging.
“I’ll try.” Too bad that wasn’t his damned strong suit.
