Valor on the Move (16 page)

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Authors: Keira Andrews

Tags: #gay, #mm, #romance

BOOK: Valor on the Move
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Chapter Eleven
 

“Why do you always get the hot ones?” Adriana mock pouted as she peered at Shane and Alan standing in the corner of the grand East Room. Around the perimeter between golden drapes, wall sconces, and oil portraits, agents in tuxes stood every few feet. More in black tie and gowns were dispersed through the crowd.

Rafa tried not to stare at Shane, who looked amazing in regular suits, and in a tux was out of this world sexy. He gave himself a mental shake as he started imagining Shane
out
of the tux. “Because the Secret Service knows you too well,” he answered, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket to make sure his wrists were covered. His arms had always been a little too long, and even though the tux had been tailored, he double checked self-consciously.

Adriana only smiled, flipping back a lock of her dark hair, which had been gently curled just so. “Touché.”

Champagne flute in hand, Christian appeared and knocked Rafa’s shoulder lightly. “Are we having fun yet?” They were just about the same height, and Rafa bumped him back.

“We’re about to witness Celine Dion’s first live appearance in almost a decade,” Adriana said. “What could
be
more enjoyable?”

“What indeed.” When Chris smiled, his cheeks dimpled perfectly. His short dark hair was thick and neat, with nary a curl in sight. “I’d say watching the Knicks game in my underwear with a cold beer and a bowl of pretzels.”

Rafa looked around for Chris’s wife, Hadley, spotting her blonde up-do near the stage. Beneath the huge chandeliers, her hair glittered with several embedded jewels that managed to be glitzy, yet tasteful. “Don’t tell me Hadley would rather be on the couch.”

Chris laughed. “No, no. This is her idea of heaven. Where’s our brother?”

Adriana huffed. “That little prick’s nowhere to be found. He appeared for about five fucking minutes before vanishing. Mom will have his balls for breakfast if he’s not back here for the cake. Of course it’s not like the agents don’t know where he is, so I’m sure he’ll be hunted down shortly.” She sipped her champagne. “I wonder if Mom and Dad will take permanent protection once it’s all over.”

Rafa frowned. “Of course they will. You think Mom would let Dad say no? Too dangerous.”

She shrugged. “If someone really wants to trade their life to kill the president—or an ex-president—there’s only so much the agents can do. I can’t wait to finally be free.”

“You already are,” Rafa scoffed. “LA’s a million miles from DC.”

“I still have agents watching me take a dump.”

“Adriana, stop it,” Chris hissed, glancing around. “You know the press is here.”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re occupied with your wife, don’t worry. Sometimes I just wish we could sing happy birthday to Dad without hundreds of strangers and Celine freaking Dion on hand.”

“We’re almost there. Not many months left now.” Chris squinted across the room. “Is Uncle Juan already tipsy?”

“Yup,” Rafa answered. “Mom will love it.” They’d had a big breakfast with his aunts and uncles, and it was nice to see them again, but they were little more than strangers.

Chris took another drink. “But really, who among us doesn’t need some liquid courage to get through this party?” He sighed. “We’d better stop that kind of talk. We don’t want to sound ungrateful.”

“You’re right,” Rafa agreed. “But sometimes it’s just so…”

“Motherfucking exhausting to live in a fishbowl?” Adriana drained her glass. “I’d better hit the can.” Her beaded green dress swaying, she strode off, her tuxedoed agents following discreetly. Adriana had barely topped five feet, but with her stilettos and swagger she was bigger than life.

Rafa and Chris could only laugh. Rafa knew part of the reason Adriana had started swearing like a sailor was to bother their mother, and he wondered if she’d ever outgrow it. She had an amazing capacity to smile sweetly for the public while hiding her true feelings. He supposed they were more alike than he’d thought.

He and Chris plucked fresh champagne flutes from the tray of a passing waiter, and Chris shook his head. “I keep forgetting you’re old enough to drink now. Do you like it? Have you ever even tried a beer at college?”

Rafa sipped the fizz. “I like it okay. Ash got me drunk on my birthday. It was fun. The hangover not so much, but what can you do?”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it, baby brother. You’re way overdue for fun. Matty would guzzle every drink I’d slip him, but never you.”

Rafa chuckled. “Remember after the second inauguration when he yacked in a ficus pot? Yeah, I wasn’t too eager to follow his lead.”

“How could I forget? Our details totally covered for him and cleaned up the mess. They do not pay those people enough to deal with all our shit. Not that they get any trouble from you.” He looked to the side of the room. “Adriana’s right—they are hot.”

The champagne almost squirted out Rafa’s nose as he coughed and choked. He smiled tightly as a few people looked his way, waiting until their attention was elsewhere to ask, “What?” in as casual a tone as he could muster.
My ears must be clogged. Or broken.

“Your new agents. Especially the one with the muscles and steely gaze?”

Cheeks flaming, Rafa tried to keep his voice steady. He gripped his glass to keep his hand from shaking. “Why would you say that?”

Chris tilted his head, sighing. He glanced around before speaking softly. “Come on.”

Rafa was suddenly putting one foot in front of the other, ordering himself not to run as buzzing filled his head. He made it out of the East Room, but of course the hall was clogged with guests. The stairs were too hard to reach, so he veered left into the Blue Room. Chris called his name as he shoved up the window at the south end of the oval and yanked the short double doors inward. Not many people knew about this secret door to the portico, but he hadn’t spent seven and a half years in the White House for nothing.

As he raced down the stairs to the South Lawn, Chris caught his arm.

“Raf, wait. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Rafa jerked his arm free. At the top of the stairs, Shane, Alan, and Chris’s agents appeared. “I just need some fresh air,” Rafa announced loudly. “I’m fine.”

Of course Chris followed him to the lawn. Despite the heatwave, the grass was lush beneath his dress shoes, and Rafa wondered when the sprinklers would come on. He hoped it was any minute now, because an untimely soaking would be an excellent excuse to escape to his room.

“Raf, would you stop and talk to me?”

Exhaling sharply, Rafa spun around. “Fine. But there’s nothing to talk about.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?” He kept his voice quiet, even though their agents were well out of earshot at the top of the portico stairs by one of the thick white columns.

“Of course I am. Why would you even say that stuff in the first place?” His heart thumped, and he was sure Chris could hear it.

Gazing at him with unmistakable sadness, Chris shook his head. “I didn’t want to upset you. I shouldn’t have said anything—at least not in there. Not tonight. It just came out, I guess. Excuse the pun.”

Rafa’s mouth was bone dry, and he couldn’t seem to find any words.
How does he know? He can’t know. No one does. Right?

“I’ve wanted to say something for a long time. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid. That I love you and accept you the way you are.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Rafa blurted hoarsely.

“I know. And I’m not saying you don’t love her or care about her.”

“Then what are you saying? Why are you saying any of this?” His palms were clammy, and his skin prickled all over.

Chris rubbed his face. “I’m doing this all wrong.” He inhaled deeply and blew it out. “Okay.” He met Rafa’s gaze steadily. “What I’m saying is that I think you’re gay. I’ve thought that for a long time.”

The words were shards of glass in Rafa’s throat. “Why?”

“I don’t know. There was always just something about you. When you were a kid, you had a soft voice, and there was something…gentle about you. And I know gay people aren’t all the same and I shouldn’t put any stock in stereotypes, but you had this way of…sparkling. But over the years that’s disappeared bit by bit. Maybe you’re in denial, or maybe I’m completely wrong and you’re not gay at all. But I can see that you’re miserable. You’ve always put on a smile and stayed quiet, and…we let you. But you’re not happy, are you? And I hate it, because I want you to be. Maybe it’s not my place to say any of this, but you’re my baby brother. I love you.”

Rafa’s throat was so thick he could barely swallow. “I love you too.” He blinked rapidly, glancing at the stairs. He couldn’t let Shane see him cry like a baby.

“I’m sorry to confront you like this. I know this was the wrong time and the wrong way. Hadley always says my timing’s for shit. But you never seemed interested in girls, or even had a girlfriend until Ashleigh. And I know you care about her. But if you’re repressing who you really are for her sake, or Mom and Dad—”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not in denial.”

Chris nodded. “Okay.”

“I know I’m gay.”

The words hung there in the lank June air, no hint of a breeze coming to float them away in the night.

Blinking, Chris smiled tentatively. “Really? Raf, that’s great!” He reached out to squeeze Rafa’s arms briefly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

“You are?” Rafa had never let himself think much about how his family would react when he did come out. It had been too terrifying to contemplate. His heart swelled, and he returned his brother’s smile.

“Of course!” Chris’s white teeth gleamed in the darkness. “I was worried you’d keep it bottled up for years still. Are you and Ashleigh…?”

“She’s a lesbian. It’s been fake all along. I mean, I do love her; she’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, of course. I have to say, you guys are good. If I hadn’t grown up with you, I probably would never have guessed.”

Rafa’s head spun.
Chris knows. I just told him. Out loud. I said it.
“But you can’t say anything. Not about me or Ash. We have it all planned out.”

“I won’t breathe a word, I promise.” Chris yanked him into a hug. “Just let me know what you need from me and when, and I’ll be there.”

Rafa let himself relax in his brother’s arms, hugging him back. “I never thought…I’m surprised you even noticed.”

When Chris drew back, his face was pinched. “I know I wasn’t here enough. After Dad took office, I couldn’t wait to escape to Yale. Ade and Matty were here with you, but not for long. Matty got that early scholarship, and you were alone until you finally got to leave for college. Mom’s…well, she’s Mom, and Dad’s been a little busy being the leader of the free world and all that. I was so wrapped up in myself. You never got into any trouble, so I think…we all just let you do your thing.”

“That’s the way I wanted it. It was easier than being in
People
and
US Weekly
all the time, or partying like Ade, or trying for the Olympics like Matty. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Debatable, but I’m going to make up for it now, okay? Man, we have so much to talk about.” Chris grinned, his eyes gleaming. “Do you have a secret boyfriend?”

“Are you crazy?” Rafa barked out a laugh. “No way. There are no secrets here. You know that. Ash and I talk in code. Once this is over and we go back to normal, or normalish, then I can date. But not yet. Can you imagine what Dad would say?”

Chris grimaced. “Yeah, I think Dad’s afraid you’ll bring home some muscle queen in hot pants, as if gay people dress like they’re on a Pride float every day.” He rolled his eyes.

Rafa laughed, but then he tumbled Chris’s words over again in his mind. “Wait…Dad? But he doesn’t know.” His pulse kicked up again, sweat beading on his forehead. As Chris’s gaze flickered away and he took a deep breath, bile rose in Rafa’s throat.

Chris sighed. “Raf, look…I know this is hard.”

“He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t.” Rafa shook his head back and forth. “He
can’t
know.”

“Not for certain. But we talked about it once.” Looking at him intently, Chris squeezed Rafa’s shoulder. “I know this must be a shock to you, but—”

Rafa jerked away. “What about Mom? Ade and Matty? Do they know?”

“Raf, just listen for a minute.”

“Holy shit, they do.” The sheer humiliation was acid on his tongue. “Do you all sit around talking about me? Laughing about how stupid I am to think it was a secret? About how hard I tried to pretend? It must be hilarious.”

“No!” Chris shook his head earnestly. “I swear to God we’ve never talked about it. It was only one time with me and Dad. It was late, and he’d had a few drinks.”

“When?” Rafa crossed his arms, his fingers digging into his sleeves.

“You were still in high school,” Chris admitted.

Nausea swelled, and Rafa thought he might vomit all over the pristine lawn. “He knew all this time? Mom did too, didn’t she?”

“I don’t think much gets by her, Raf. But we’ve never talked about it. I haven’t with Ade or Matty either. But I think they probably have their suspicions.”

“God, I’m such an idiot.” He wished the South Lawn would open up and swallow him whole. “What…what did Dad say?”

“I don’t know. It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course it matters!” Then it hit him, and he actually staggered back. “The bill. That bullshit traditional marriage bill that he supported.”

Chris winced. “I know. That was awful.”

“He suspected then that I was gay. He knew, and he didn’t care. He still did it. He still made me get up there in front of the world and smile while he shit all over gay people’s rights.” A sob choked him, cracking his voice. “He
knew
.”

“Not for sure. Raf, it doesn’t mean anything. You know he loves you.”

“It means everything,” Rafa whispered. “That was
me
he was fighting against. My rights.”

Chris took Rafa’s shoulders. “We all love you. Please believe me,” he implored. “I—”

A female staffer called from the portico, “Boys! It’s time for cake. We need you inside, please.”

“Time to smile for the cameras.” Rafa shook off his brother and turned back before Chris could say more. At the bottom of the stairs, Rafa paused. Chris stopped, but he waved him on. “I need a second.”

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