Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4) Page 17

  I was sitting back against his legs on the floor. He’d tried to shove me off for at least thirty seconds but had eventually given up when I reminded him that I’d brought Vince and him their beers and that he needed to be nice to me. He bent forward and kissed the top of my head, much to Sandy’s delight.

  “He’s not dying,” Paul said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve told you this before. Charlie and Nana are going to outlive us all and ascend to rule over mankind before destroying it in a wave of fire.” He frowned as he peered down at his own drink. “This is a lot stronger than I thought it would be. It’s also gross. What the hell is in this?”

  “It’s jungle juice,” Sandy said. “I thought it would be fun. I may have made a mistake.”

  “Jungle juice?” Paul said with a grimace. “We aren’t sixteen and raiding my parents’ liquor cabinet. Jesus Christ.”

  “Ah, those were the days,” Sandy said, tilting his head back on the couch. “Remember that time we got caught by Nana and she threatened to tell your parents unless we allowed her to join us?”

  “I try not to think about that,” Paul muttered. He nudged Wheels away when the dog decided Paul’s sock was better to chew on than the bone. “It led to the first time she told us the story about how she murdered a guy who was trying to mug her in St. Louis.”

  “She didn’t actually murder anyone, did she?” Vince asked. “Because that’s sad, you know? What if she gets arrested and has to go on trial? I would testify on her behalf as a character witness.”

  We all stared at him.

  Paul sighed. “Vince discovered British crime procedurals on Netflix. It’s this whole… thing.”

  “They call attorneys solicitors,” Vince said. “And they wear white wigs in court. It’s awesome. Did you know British cops don’t usually carry guns? And it’s always raining and everyone looks sad when they drink their tea.”

  “I have other things I could be doing,” Darren grumbled.

  “No, you don’t,” Sandy told him. “No one else likes you as much as we do.”

  “Charlie said that it wasn’t bad,” I reminded them for the fifth time.

  “Isn’t that what people say when it’s really bad?” Vince asked.

  Paul smacked his socked feet. “Not helping.”

  Vince wriggled his toes. “DI Vince Auster on the case.”

  “Did he seem all right at your lunch?” Sandy asked me, and I could hear real worry in his voice. “He was fine at the bar, but you know how distracted I get when I’m performing. I don’t know if I missed something.”

  “He was fine,” I assured him. “Better than, even. I told you how he and Robert looked together. It was… sweet.”

  “Ah, yes,” Sandy said. “I remember now. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you didn’t tell me that Jeremy was there too.”

  Suddenly it was my turn to be stared at. I might have left that little detail out when I told Sandy about the lunch. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d found out.

  “Jeremy was there?” Paul asked. “Jeremy Jeremy?”

  “I think his name is just Jeremy, babe,” Vince said. “That would be stupid if it was Jeremy Jeremy.”

  “I love you so goddamn much,” Paul said.

  “That’s because I’m your husband,” Vince said.

  “It was nothing,” I said quickly. Vince and Paul were starting to get that look in their eyes, the one that meant the honeymoon period was still going strong and things were going to get sticky unless I stopped them. Wheels was in the splash zone, and that was animal abuse. “Just… Charlie and me, and then Robert and Jeremy happened to be in the same place at the same time.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sandy said. “It’s just funny to me how you randomly left that little detail out. Imagine my surprise when I had to hear it from Nana.”

  “How did she know?” I demanded.

  Sandy shrugged. “How does she know all the things she does?”

  “She can probably read minds,” Vince said. “I need to learn to shield my thoughts.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard,” Darren said dryly. He yelped when Sandy smacked him on the back of the head.

  “Be nice,” Sandy scolded. “Or I won’t eat your ass later.”

  “Gross,” Paul and I said at the same time.

  Darren looked like he was going to retort but thought better of it. Sandy must have been an expert at anilingus. I wished I never knew that.

  “It’s probably nothing,” I said, trying to distract them from the whole Jeremy thing. “Why do we automatically have to think it’s bad? Why can’t it be good news?”

  “Huh,” Sandy said. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. That’s weird. Why are we so predisposed to think something is going to be terrible?”

  “It’s his age,” Paul said, wincing as he took another sip of his drink before setting it down on the table next to the couch. “It sucks, but when an older person says they need to tell us something, it’s usually health related. Nana tried to keep her heart issues from us, but then she ended up in the hospital.”

  “She’s doing okay now, though?” Darren asked.

  Paul nodded. “Should be. Mom and Dad are keeping an eye on her, making sure she takes her meds and goes to all her appointments. She hates it, but I think she understands why. It’s just something that happens when you get older.”

  “I wonder what we’re going to be like at that age?” Sandy mused. “We’re all still going to be together, obviously. Maybe in a retirement home where I’ll perform for everyone because I’ll still look amazing.”

  “I would play chess all day,” Vince said. “Speaking of, I still need to learn how to play chess. Paul tried to teach me when we were on our honeymoon, but then I sucked him off instead.”

  “Gross,” Sandy and I said at the same time.

  Darren held out a fist, and Vince bumped it with his own. Homo jocks were so dumb.

  Paul started to say something else, but then we heard a car pull up in the driveway.

  And since we were all of the calm and collected variety, we allowed Charlie the opportunity to knock before we reacted.

  Which meant, of course, that all of us were standing in the doorway, demanding to know who was dying, whether it was going to be painful, and in Vince’s case, if Charlie knew how to play chess. Wheels was rolling around at our feet, barking loudly in all the excitement.

  Charlie barely looked fazed. “Get back in the house. You all sound like a bunch of screaming howler monkeys.”

  I couldn’t argue.

  Charlie pushed by us into the house. Darren closed the door while the rest of us trailed after Charlie. He headed for the recliner Sandy had purchased especially for him. It’d been part of a gift for his last birthday. The other parts had been three more matching recliners, one for Matty and Larry’s house, one for Paul and Vince’s house, and one for Charlie’s own. The look on his face had been priceless, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, I thought I saw even Darren sniffle a little. It was our way of letting Charlie know that he was welcome to any of our homes whenever he wanted to be there. All four recliners had gotten good use from him.

  He sighed happily as he sat down, propping his boots up on the footrest, folding his hands in his lap. He smiled when Vince handed him a beer. He took a long drink before smacking his lips. “That’s the stuff.” He looked up at us standing around him. “Would you all sit down?”

  We did as he asked, resuming the spots we’d been in before he arrived. Darren didn’t even try to fight me as I lay back against his legs again. Paul unbuckled Wheels from his cart and placed the wriggling dog on Vince’s chest. Vince started rubbing behind his ears, and Wheels’s tongue lolled out, his two feet twitching in the air.

  “I’m not dying,” Charlie said. “Because I know that’s going to be automatically where your minds go. I’m not dying, I’m not sick. In fact, I’m as healthy as I’ve ever been.”

  “You can’t just text someone that you need to talk,” Sandy
snapped at him. “When in the history of the world has that ever been followed by good news?”

  Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Maybe to people who aren’t all drama queens every second of every day?”

  “I wasn’t worried,” Darren told him.

  Sandy snorted. “Bullshit. You were the worst. You kept saying how you could get your mom to recommend the best specialists and that money wasn’t going to be an object.”

  I didn’t know why it was still so surprising when the Homo Jock King was shown to have a heart underneath that douchebag exterior. I tilted my head back to look up at him. “That’s really nice of you.”

  Darren shoved my head away, though without much force. “I wanted to get Sandy to stop bitching. You know how he gets.”

  We did, but none of us were fooled.

  “Thank you,” Charlie said. “But it’s not necessary. And all of you should know that. I’ve never met a nosier group of people. I can’t even go to a doctor’s appointment these days without one of you hounding me.”

  “We love you,” Vince said without a hint of artifice. “You know that. We just need to make sure you’re good.”

  “I know that,” Charlie said. “And I am.” He hesitated. Then, “If there was ever something wrong, I’d let you know. I don’t do secrets. Not anymore. Sandy and Paul are my emergency contacts, and Sandy has power of attorney should it come to that.”

  “But that’s not it,” Sandy said quickly.

  Charlie smiled quietly at him. “No. It’s not. This is… well. This is mostly for Corey.”

  I blinked. “Me? What did I do now?” I’d wondered—briefly—if something was wrong, why Charlie would text just me and not the others too. I should have realized that wasn’t the case. But Sandy was right; you didn’t just tell someone you needed to talk without the expectation of something bad.

  “Nothing,” Charlie said. “It’s more….” He shook his head. “It might not even be my place to say, but it’s been bugging the crap out of me. You know when you’re trying to remember something and it’s right on the tip of your tongue but you can’t quite get it?”

  I nodded. “Like an itch in the back of your brain that won’t stop.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “And I couldn’t quite get to it. I might not be as sharp as I once was, but I’ve been worrying at it for a while, and then it came to me.”

  “What did?” Vince asked.

  “You know the leather bar.”

  “Build-a-Bear Sweat Shop?” Sandy asked. “What about it?”

  “Why have we never been there before?” Vince asked.

  “Because they would eat you alive,” Paul told him. “I probably couldn’t even save you.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Charlie said. “Vince, you know I think you’re gorgeous, but as soon as Paul walked into the bar, all the focus would be on him.”

  “Um,” Paul said. “Why is that, exactly?”

  “Because you’re a chub,” Charlie said. “Exactly what they look for. Boy, you’d be mauled in a bear attack like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Whoa,” Paul breathed. “But I only have three chest hairs!”

  Charlie shook his head. “Wouldn’t matter. You’ve got meat on your bones. It’d be like chum in shark-infested waters.”

  Vince’s brow furrowed. “So everyone would know how hot Paul is?”

  “They would.”

  Vince’s frown disappeared into a sunny smile. “Then why the hell haven’t we gone there before? Fuck Jack It and the twinks. That place can suck my left nut. Let’s go be leather bears!” He bared his teeth and growled. “Rawr.”

  Wheels responded by growling right back at him.

  Paul patted his feet, looking a little dazed. “Maybe let’s hear what Charlie has to say before we decide to join the leather community.”

  “It’s… different,” Charlie said. “More intense, but strangely also more laid back. I love Jack It because of the queens and the history the place has. It’s where I met Vaguyna and where I felt like I could breathe for the first time. But it’s also… vapid. And I get that times are changing and I sound like a grumpy old fart, but it’s not like it used to be. There’s always been the hookup culture, but it seems like it’s gotten mean. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  I knew what he meant. Jack It was growing to be the equivalent of Grindr, and there didn’t seem to be much to do to change that. Mike, the oily owner of Jack It, was a savvy businessman, and he understood that the name of the game was sex. It used to be that three or four nights a week were dedicated for drag shows. The big ones were Wednesdays and Saturdays, with Sandy hosting both. The other nights were given to lesser-known queens just getting started.

  But then Mike decided that all those drag shows weren’t necessary and replaced them with theme nights that usually ended up with mostly-naked white boys dancing on podiums while people shoved dollar bills in their jockstraps. He and Sandy had argued bitterly over it, especially after Sandy chose not to try out for Miss Gay America, the national drag competition. Mike was supposed to pay Helena’s way through the local levels, but Sandy didn’t trust him, especially after he’d bullshitted about almost losing the bar. Sandy had managed to keep two nights a week dedicated to drag: Friday for the newer queens and Saturday for his show. He hadn’t been happy about it, but Mike wasn’t budging.

  “These things come in waves,” Charlie said. “And I’m sure ten years from now it won’t be like it is today, either good or bad. And while I won’t deny that stupid shit happens at the leather bar, it’s… I don’t know. It feels more inclusive.”

  “Only for those in the leather community, though, right?” Darren asked.

  Charlie shook his head. “No. We try and welcome everyone who wants to come in. Sure, we get the usual tourists and daddy-hunters, but this is a tight-knit community that welcomes anyone who wants to learn and respect the rules. Yes, there’s a sexual component to it—it’s part of life—but it’s not just about sex.”

  “I performed there once,” Sandy said. “They were all very kind to me.”

  “That was a good night,” Charlie agreed.

  “It sounds great and everything,” Paul said. “I just don’t know what this has to do with Corey.”

  I was wondering the same thing. I never really had any interest in leather. My only experience with the community had been Charlie and the Dairy Queens.

  Charlie looked conflicted. “It’s—I’m not trying to out anyone, but I don’t know that it’s a secret. He’s pretty well known. I don’t know why I didn’t see it.”

  The blood started rushing in my ears.

  “The Mr. Leatherman competition is starting to ramp up,” Charlie continued. “Each year Tucson’s leather community elects Mr. Leatherman of the Year. He’s the face of the leather community for that year, and when his reign comes to an end, he’s the MC for the next year’s competition when a new Mr. Leatherman is elected.”

  “Sounds like a beauty pageant,” Vince said.

  Charlie snorted. “I guess it a way it is. Mr. Leatherman has certain responsibilities that come with it. Appearances, fund-raisers, speaking engagements in the leather community. It’s a pretty big responsibility. And it comes with prestige. It’s something to be proud of.”

  “Did you ever hold the title?” Sandy asked.

  “Once,” Charlie said. He looked down at his hands. “A few years after I met Vaguyna. She pushed me into competing, and it was… nice. One of the nicest things that ever happened to me. It helped me feel like I belonged. I almost didn’t participate. I was new on the scene and didn’t quite have a hold on the politics of it all. But Vaguyna said that some of the opportunities we miss in life are because of the chances we didn’t take.”

  “Does Robert know?” Vince asked. Wheels was snoring on his chest.

  Charlie looked even more uncomfortable. “Yes. Only because he has a connection to the scene that I didn’t expect. He’s part of the reason I’m here.”


  Oh god.

  “What is it?” Paul asked.

  Charlie looked directly at me and said, “I couldn’t get where I knew his son from out of my head. He was so familiar, and I didn’t know why. And I asked Robert about it, and he laughed at me. He said I probably needed to see him in full leathers to remember.”

  “What?” Sandy screeched.

  “Jeremy Olsen was Mr. Leatherman for the last year,” Charlie said, and my brain broke right in half. “And starting last weekend, he’s hosting the competition for the new Mr. Leatherman.”

  Silence.

  Charlie stared at each of us in turn. “Huh. I didn’t expect to be able to shut you all up at once. I should have figured this out years ago.”

  Sandy spoke first. “But—but he’s so skinny.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to be fat or muscular to be named Mr. Leatherman. It’s not always about appearance. You should know better than that.”

  “But—but it’s June,” Paul said.

  “The title runs from summer to summer,” Charlie said. “Are you really all this stupid?”

  “That completely changes how I see him,” Vince said. “Sure, he was like, nerdy professor hot before, but now? Wow.” He looked at Paul, a worried expression on his face. “But you’re my one and only. Forever.”

  Paul waved him away. “Yeah, yeah, forever and stuff. But you’re right. I didn’t expect that from him.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Like, full leathers?”

  “I can see it,” Darren announced. “I mean, he’s not my type, but I think it could work for him. I thought there was a sort of kinship with him. Us manly guys have to stick together.”

  Charlie laughed. “Boy, they would chew you up and spit you out even before you knew what was happening. You weren’t nothing but a chicken hawk until you pulled your head out of your ass and got with Sandy. You should stop talking before you find yourself with your butt in the air by a true daddy making sure you know respect.”