We were sitting at the bar, holding flutes of bubbling cotton candy champagne in our hands. This little excursion had been an excellent idea. It was exactly what we needed. I was getting upset with Zane, but that all seemed like a distant memory. He had apologized and realized his mistake, and I had to believe he was telling me the truth. I could see where he had been coming from, too. He wasn’t completely in the wrong. It’s not like he lied to me so he could hook up with the guy. He skirted around the truth to protect me.

Cazzo. Maybe I did overreact.

Whatever. We were good now, and that’s what mattered. Hell, we were better than good. If anything, that little mini-fight we had only made me more sure that this was right. That Zane was a good man and that what we had was real. It also revealed the passion on both of our sides, otherwise neither of us would have really cared. If he were any other detective, I wouldn’t have been so upset not knowing about the meeting. Merde, I wouldn’t be upset at all. But since it was Zane, my emotions were on an entirely different level.

“That was an experience,” Zane said.

“Which was your favorite floor?”

“I liked the third floor.”

“The one with the deer orgy replica happening in the middle of the room?”

Zane chuckled. “Yeah, that one. I liked how they showed connections with homosexuality and the animal kingdom. The dildo bike on the first floor was a highlight, too.”

I nodded. The champagne fizzed its way down my throat. I could taste the subtle sweetness of the cotton candy. “The third floor was a good one. The boob jump house was fun, too.”

“Couldn’t have jumped on some aeriolas with a better partner,” Zane said. His eyes were practically glowing as he looked at me. I couldn’t be sure of it, but I felt like something had changed between us since my small outburst. Shifted. Settled into place. Like a key finally fitting into its ring. I took another swig of champagne. We kept talking about the museum for a little longer as the lounge area began filling up with more and more people.

We were on our third glasses of champagne by the time the music kicked up a notch and people started hitting the dance floor.

“So,” Zane started. Our conversation had been growing deeper, so I expected an interesting question coming. “What got you into being a defense attorney?”

His eyes glittered with the neon lights that were spaced around the lounge area. It was a disco-themed bar that was getting more and more packed with people as the minutes ticked by. There were huge disco balls hanging from the ceiling, along with a sizeable dance floor and red velvet couches to lounge on against the walls. Explicit black-and-white photos taken by the famous Bill Bernstein were hung up on the walls, mostly depicting gay men in various states of undress, dancing, kissing, fucking, and blowing inside different disco clubs.

“I was really into Law and Order growing up.”

“Seriously?”

“Dun. Dun,” I said, dramatically replicating the opening of the show before laughing. “No, not really.” I took a sip of the champagne, smiling around the glass, watching Zane watch me. “It’s a little bit more of an involved story.” I set my glass down on the bar. A disco classic was playing through the speakers, making my foot tap against the floor to the beat. I was expecting a good question, and I got one. “I was seven when both my parents had immigrated from Italy and moved to Jersey. I took it in stride, thinking it was a huge grand adventure. I was excited to be going to a new school and making new friends and eating American food. I expected the entire country to be like a huge theme park, where everyone gets what they want and no one has any issues.” I scoffed. “Little did I know, it was the exact opposite. My family struggled for years trying to get their feet on solid ground. They both worked two jobs, until my dad had an accident where he hurt his back and couldn’t manage working again. So my mom had to pick up another job.”

Zane’s brows rose. “Damn.”

“Yeah, it was difficult. I’d come home from school and would see her for an hour, sometimes less, before she had to leave to go work a night shift. But we managed, and things were finally getting comfortable again. My mom was down to one job, and my dad managed to find a job he could do from home. I had to teach him how to use a computer, but he learned pretty quick.”

“You’re an only child, right?”

“Mhmm.” I nodded. “Just me. So, when things went to shit, I was probably the only one who could help get things back on track.”

“What happened?” Zane was completely and totally engaged in my story. He was leaning forward on the stool, probably to make sure he could hear everything I was saying over the music. I could see the finer details of his face. The birthmark on the bridge of his nose. The long brushes of the eyelashes he would bat every now and then, seemingly unaware of the kind of power those things had on me.

“So the job my mother had was as a professional housekeeper. She was determined to open up her own company after she saved enough from cleaning. She landed some really rich and powerful clients, and they were paying enough to make her dream seem more and more like a reality. I was a senior in high school when the cops showed up at our house one evening, right when we were about to eat dinner, so that they could arrest my mother.”

“What the fuck.” Zane’s jaw dropped open for a second before he picked it up.

“The family she cleaned for was accusing her of robbing a million dollars’ worth of jewelry.”

“Holy…”

“Yeah, so they took her away for questioning and searched our entire apartment. Of course, nothing was there, but the family kept insisting it was my mother who stole the jewelry. They said they had video evidence of her leaving with her pockets bulging. Cazzate. Bullshit. It was just her cell phone—they were huge back then! But they weren’t giving up, and they were going to press charges.”

“Jeez,” Zane said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, so my mom was going to hire a lawyer, but it would have cost her entire savings account plus more. We’d go into debt for a frivolous lawsuit. So, that was when I decided I’d represent my mother myself.” Zane looked impressed. “I pulled a ton of all-nighters studying up on what I needed to do and what was going to happen. Thankfully, I had already taken my finals by then, so schoolwork was basically done until college started. I had to sacrifice going to grad night or any other celebrations we were having, but that was fine because I was determined to help my mamma. It helped that I was actually really enjoying what I was doing.”

“So what happened? Did you storm into the courtroom and serve up some kickass justice?”

“No. I never got the chance to. Turned out they found the jewels inside of the daughter’s treasure chest of dolls.”

We both laughed at that. “Seriously?” Zane asked.

“Yup. So I never got to have my kickass moment where I’d storm in wearing a cheap suit and holding an overflowing briefcase of information and evidence. Which is probably good because reality would have had me walking up to the bench and instantly blowing it by saying something dumb. There was no way I was ready for a real case back then, but the good thing was that it made me positive of what I wanted to study. I went to NYU first before transferring to Columbia, where I went to law school.”

“Impressive,” Zane said. He was practically eating me up with his eyes now. Maybe it was the fact that we were still in the Museum of Sex, or maybe it was just the raw chemistry between Zane and me, but I was starting to fill with lust. I moved on the stool, trying not to pay attention to my tightening briefs. “That’s a really inspirational story. I don’t think a lot of people who watch you on TV know about that.”

“I’m thinking of maybe coming out with a book, but who knows.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. But you’re right,” Zane said, “the picture book market is pretty saturated right now.”

My jaw dropped a bit in surprise before I snorted a laugh. “I’ll have words in it, thank you very much.” I lifted my glass, finishing the last bit of champagne. “But the majority will be pictures.”

We both started laughing. It was so easy letting loose with Zane. This entire spontaneous excursion was all about being relaxed and having a good time in an environment that may have freaked some people out. I figured we could take this home where we could get a little looser.

“Let’s go back to my place,” I offered. “It’s only a ten-minute walk from here.”

It was dark out, but I had Zane by my side and that gave me an ungodly amount of courage. It was like walking with a superhero. I couldn’t describe it exactly, but I definitely felt safe when I was with him. Maybe it was because he’d already saved my life once that had me imprint on him like some vampire-werewolf fan-fiction story. But I doubted it. I think it just came down to Zane making me feel safe.

Not to say that I ever felt like I needed protecting. Even after the incident with the gunman, I didn’t allow it to make me scared enough to alter my life. I was shaken, sure, but I wasn’t going to stop walking down the street or taking the subway or doing anything else I would normally do. The one thing that did make me nervous, if I were being 100 percent honest, was the fact that the Unicorn was somewhere out there. But I couldn’t let that affect me too much, either. I refused to live my life ruled by fear. Besides, a serial killer wasn’t going to attack two men very capable of defending themselves out on the streets of New York, which were never empty, regardless of what time. It wasn’t even that late. Only eight according to my watch.

“Let’s go,” Zane said. We closed out the tab and made our way out, shaking our groove thangs on the dance floor to one song before leaving.

The walk back to my place was filled with easy conversation and more laughs. I felt like a kid again, walking back from a high school dance with my date. Granted, back then my date was a girl who I had zero sexual chemistry with, but our friendship was great and I definitely had an incredible time. If Zane were my date back then, we wouldn’t have even made it back home before we landed in some bushes, ripping at each other’s dress pants. Instead, I’d walked Helen home and kissed her good night on the cheek before promising to help her decorate her graduation cap in the morning.

The thought of shoving Zane into some bushes was giving me a chub. I stuck a hand in my pocket to readjust and hold myself down. Maybe walking was a bad idea after all. Have you ever walked with a boner stuffed in your jeans?

It was hard, that was for sure.