He takes my arm. “Hold on. That can’t be what I just heard.”
Fox cocks up half a grin. “It’s a good thing. It means you’re having a career.”
Everett returns with his husband Reggie, and Fox grabs his husband, a sunny guy with glasses named Owen. Evo Starshine appears out of nowhere at the exact right moment. His pink hair all falls to one side, and his gold shirt sparkles.
“Mind if I take a selfie to get us started?” he asks, jumping straight into business.
Finally, Gabriel’s arm lands over my shoulder again. As Evo poses with us behind him, Gabriel leans his weight against me, and I’m happy to take it.
With the pop star kneeling in front, I realize that Gabriel and I are one of three gay couples, all standing in pairs, arms around our partners. Even a few weeks ago, I might have felt disoriented by this image.
Tonight, though, my arm around Gabriel’s side, I don’t have to fake my smile at all.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
GABRIEL
While Spencer hitsthe gym the next morning, I mess around with the guitar. I’ve got a few chords that I can’t get out of my head, and I’m chasing them, trying to find them a home in a song before their magic fades.
It felt good to be out in Seattle with Spencer. We stayed later at the party than either of us expected, and he seemed to relax more as the night went on. He even ended up touching me, casually resting his arm on my bicep, leaning against me at the bar. Little gestures that I don’t usually receive from him.
I like having him here with me, way more than I probably should.
I pull the headphones back on, close my eyes, and return to my guitar. For a couple of hours, I let the music consume me, hoping it will reveal answers, or at least some new songs.
“Gabriel.”
Spencer’s voice rises above the noise, and I snap my eyes open. He’s standing across from me, a bemused smile on his face. He’s wearing a thin T-shirt and the athletic pants that cling to his thighs.
“Were you yelling my name for a while?”
“You looked really into your song.”
“Give me one second,” I say and close my eyes as I run through the new chords again, confirming that they’re set in my memory. When I set my instrument back in the case and look up, Spencer is patiently waiting.
“Good workout?” I ask, not wanting to talk about how stuck I still am musically.
He rubs his chin. “Not bad. That trainer had me meet at a different gym. People started gawking more than I could comfortably ignore, so I cut out early. But I have another training session later, so I’ll make up the hour.”
“The photo from last night,” I say as I grab my phone. “Have you checked it out?”
Spencer sits beside me on the couch. “No. Can you pull it up?”
I quickly find the photo. Evo is kneeling and grinning, and beside him, the three couples are leaning on each other, looking sincerely happy.
“Fuck. We look just as real as the real couples.”
He coughs out a laugh. “And look at those numbers. That photo is getting around.”
I scroll through the comments. “It’s all love here. I’m sure Evo has a team suppressing the worst of the negative comments, but even so, that’s a hell of a lot of heart-eye emojis.”
Spencer leans back, but stays right next to me on the couch. “Damn. These PR stunts are really working.”
“Yeah.” I relax back, too, and our knees touch. “Even the haters admit we’re cute together.”
Spencer peeks at the photo one more time. “We are cute together,” he says.
I laugh. “Let’s say we’re hot together,” I correct him. “Rock stars and jocks are hot.”
