“Boomer’s car got a flat, so he’s running about thirty minutes behind.”

The announcement from Chet—who’d wandered to the far side of the studio to take the phone call and was now yelling to be heard by everyone at once—made Shane want to scream. He was already tied up in knots over the day’s three-way shoot. He wanted to get the whole thing over as soon as possible and go home, and now the process was getting delayed another thirty minutes.

Fucking damn it.

The set had a sofa, two armchairs and an upholstered ottoman in place, and Shane flopped down on the sofa. He’d already changed into the suit from his first shoot with Tony. Apparently the story was some kind of continuation of that, with Boomer added in. Chet hadn’t given him the details yet, but he knew Shane’s limits.

He’d better not push me today.

Tony wandered over and sat down next to him, not quite close enough to be invading his personal space. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

Shane shrugged. “I guess.”

“Why are you here?”

“Doing a job, same as you, why?”

He angled toward Shane, studying him like a cop figuring out the best way to interrogate him. The look reminded him of Noel, and he didn’t want to be thinking of Noel right now. “No, I mean, you look like you’d rather have your dick hacked off with a dull spoon than be here, so why are you?”

The mental image those words conjured up made Shane’s already twisted up stomach churn with acid. “I need the money.”

Apparently short answers in harsh tones did nothing to quell Tony’s curiosity. “Drugs?”

“Fuck no.”

“Gambling debt?”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m curious by nature. I’ve seen your movies, Colby. Some guys aren’t totally into it, but you? You get this look sometimes, like you hate everything about what you’re doin’.”

“I do.” Shane decided Tony wasn’t going to back down, so he might as well entertain the asshole. The polite, kind-of-nice asshole. “Look, someone I love is sick. I’m doing this for him.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No. My boyfriend doesn’t know about this.”

“Ouch.” Tony made a rough noise. “Take this from a guy with experience at it. Not telling only makes things go to shit harder when he finds out. You gotta be honest.”

“I’m almost finished. After today’s shoot, I’m so close to paying things off. So close. Then I can be honest with everyone.”

“So the person who’s sick don’t know about this, either?”

“No.”

“You got a lotta secrets stored up in that head, don’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

Tony glanced around the set, but no one was paying them any mind. “You any good at dancing?”

“Real good, yeah.”

“How good?”

“Well, one of my other jobs is as a stripper.”

Tony tilted his head, as though not sure if Shane was serious. “Okay, good. Look, you ever heard of a place in Harrisburg called Big Dick’s?”

“Sure. I’ve been there a few times. Why?”

“Well, my dads, they own the place. Monday nights they like to do specials, usually themes, and they’re always looking for good dancers to put on a show.”

Dancing for money, rather than fucking for it, piqued Shane’s interest hard. “What kind of dancing?”

“Depends on the theme. Usually on elevated stages, sometimes on the bar. Security’s good about handling unwanted groping, if you’re worried about that.”

“Naked?”

“Can’t be totally naked or they’d lose their liquor license. But you gotta show skin, and I don’t figure you on the shy type.”

“Not really.” He could handle another side gig once a week. “What’s it pay?”

“Hundred bucks a night for about five hours’ work. Plus you keep any tips that get tucked into your g-string. It ain’t porn money but it beats slinging fries, right?”

Twenty bucks an hour. More than twice what he made at Mineo’s. And he could make tips. Stripping experience told him that drunk men could be easily parted from their cash by a smile and sexy swing of his package.

“Look,” Tony said, “if you’re interested in checking it out, meet me at the club on Monday. You can scope, meet the owners, and if you don’t wanna do it, no harm done.”

“I have plans Monday.”

“All night?”

“Until about ten or so.”

“So come after. Shows don’t start until ten anyway. The bouncer at the door? He’s an owner, my bio dad. Everyone calls him Bear. Drop your name. He’ll text me so I can meet you at the bar. How’s that sound?”

Shane turned it over in his head. He could still spend the afternoon and evening with Noel, until Noel had to go to work. Then a quick drive into the city to check out a potential new job. He had enough socked away in the bank to pay off most of the loan, which he planned to do when today’s check cleared. They’d be okay, between his and Jason’s town jobs and the smaller remaining balance.

But Shane didn’t want okay. He’d decided after Jason’s heart attack that he was paying off that fucking loan as fast as possible. Period. Okay wasn’t enough. He wanted them both to have room to breathe. He wanted Jason to take a vacation somewhere, even if it was only down to the Delaware beaches for a long weekend. With Elizabeth. He more than deserved it.

Dancing at Big Dick’s wouldn’t solve their money crisis, but it would help. And Shane loved dancing. The only time he felt as alive was when he was with Noel.

“Okay,” Shane said. “Monday, late.”

“Excellent. You seem like a decent guy, Colby. Hard times suck.”

“Yeah, they do. I appreciate the lead.”

“Paying it forward.”

Shane figured an interesting story lay behind those words, and despite himself, he found himself liking Tony. Or whatever he really was behind that stage name. “Your dad’s name is really Bear?”

“Well, Bernard, but yeah, Bear since college. He says that’s about when he, uh, filled out.”

He vaguely recalled the tall, burly, WWE-esque bouncer from Big Dick’s. Filled out was an understatement. Tony had two fathers, unless his early comment had been a slip. Shane couldn’t figure what it was like to have parents who were present and obviously still liked their kid.

“Can I ask you something?” Shane said.

“Sure. Quid pro quo, right?”

“If your dads own a club, how come you’re here instead of working for them?”

Tony’s openness closed up, shuttering tight behind a frown. “That’s not a story I tell on porn sets.”

“Fair enough.” Not like Shane was about to dredge up his own dark past.

The friendly conversation died there, and they hung out until Boomer finally showed up, sweaty and disheveled. His build was somewhere between Tony and Shane. Lean with some nicely developed muscle, smoothly shaved all over, golden tan from long hours in a booth. Curly bleach-blond hair, striking blue eyes. Nice enough kid, and he took a hard fucking like a champ.

“Okay, good, let’s get going,” Chet said once his stars were on set together. “We’re starting with Tony and Boomer coming in, getting going. Tony, you’re supposed to be at work and Boomer’s your secret on the side. Once you’re naked, Colby comes in, home from work and catches you both together. Colby, you’re pissed but kinda turned on. Tony charms you into joining in.”

“Who’s nailing who?” Shane asked.

Chet grinned. “Well, Tony’s strictly top for this one, but I’ll let you guys go with the flow for now. I’ll call direction if I see some potential.”

Fucking great.

* * *

Tristan pounced the moment Noel walked into his room at Benfield. “So? What happened with Shane?”

Noel stared, perplexed at the question, until he spotted the notebook open on Tristan’s bed. He must have been rereading their Thursday adventure, and the thoughtfulness hit him hard. Tristan was trying, really trying, to get back into the world.

“After I dropped you off, I went over to his place,” Noel replied. He wandered in and sat down on the edge of the bed, while Tristan hovered in front of him. Bouncing on his heels like a kid about to see Santa. “His brother Jason let me in, which probably helped, because Shane might have slammed the door in my face.”

“His brother Jason who has heart disease.”

“Right. Shane actually did talk to me. I told him what I’d read, and he filled in the details. He had a really shitty childhood, Tris. Really shitty, and the fact that he can stand on both feet and support his brother amazes me. He’s so strong and he doesn’t even see it.”

“So did he take you back?”

“We were never technically together so—”

“You know what I mean, dipshit.” Tristan was smiling, taking any possible sting out of his words. “Are you together?”

“I think so.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means we spent the night together and fucked each other’s brains out until Shane had to go to work.”

Tristan jumped up onto the bed next to him, then settled in like a kid at story time. “I haven’t had a sex life of my own in three years. I want details.”

Noel laughed. “Forget it, pal. Use your imagination.”

“At least tell me who did who.”

A blush rose hotly in his cheeks for no good reason. He’d never been embarrassed about sex talk with Tristan, so why was this different? Hell, he and Tristan had had sex once upon a time. Okay, more than once upon a time, but that was always Noel fucking Tristan, and Noel had always topped when he talked about other guys.

“Oh my God, he fucked you, didn’t he?” Tristan said. His eyes went wide, amused and shocked all at once. “Does he have a big dick?”

“Jesus, Tris.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, good for you, but what about the whole not sure if you’re together thing?”

Noel plucked at a piece of lint on the bedcover. “We’re seeing each other again. We both want to keep seeing each other. I guess we just never discussed labels like boyfriend or couple. Or even being exclusive.”

“You think he’d cheat on you?”

“Well, no, but it’s not cheating if we aren’t technically a couple. Right?”

Tristan shrugged, but his mood had changed. Some of the joy had morphed into concern. “So if I were to throw you to the bed and suck you off right now, he wouldn’t think you were cheating?”

Noel’s belly rippled, memory reminding him that Tristan had once been a grand champion cock sucker. “I don’t know what he’d think.”

“What would you think?” Tristan’s voice had deepened to a seductive pitch that Noel had forgotten. It still sent a shiver down his spine. Brain damage be damned, his best friend in the world was still sexy as hell.

“I don’t know what I would think, but since that isn’t going to happen—”

Tristan surged up, as though challenged to act, and then Noel was flat on his back with a small, wiry body straddling his hips. A hot mouth was on his, familiar and eager, and opening up to protest only allowed Tristan’s tongue to stroke inside. He didn’t want this, but holy God he remembered how good it could be, except that this was Tristan and he wanted Shane.

Noel rolled carefully so he could dump Tristan onto his back. He slid off the bed and put a few feet between them. Tristan sat up, his confusion heartbreaking and his embarrassment even more so.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said. He cast about for his wrinkled notebook. “What was…we were talking about sex, right? And then I just…shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I lost track of the fucking conversation. Goddammit.” Tristan pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, it’s okay. We were talking about the guy I’m seeing. Shane. He lives in Stratton where I live.”

“Right, okay. You’re seeing someone, so I go and fucking kiss you. I’m such a fucking mess.”

“Look, I’m not upset. No harm done.”

“Well, I’m upset.” His voice cracked. “Can you leave please?”

“What? I just got here ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t today.”

“Tristan—”

“Get out!” Tristan leapt off the bed, rage and frustration rolling off him, backing Noel up toward the door. “Get the fuck out!”

His voice echoed in the corridor, as did the slamming of his door when Noel was on the other side of it. Angry tears pricked at Noel’s eyelids. Anger directed at the guys who’d done this to Tristan. Anger at the doctors for not being able to fix him. Anger at God for doing this to such a sweet, spirited young man.

Noel stopped by the front desk to let the nurse on duty know what had happened, and that Tristan might be upset for a while. She cast a sympathetic smile at him as she made her notes.

With his plans totally shot to shit, Noel drove back to Stratton. He stopped at a restaurant he’d never tried for a dinner he barely tasted. His mind kept insisting he call Shane to vent. That even hearing Shane’s voice would take some of the strain off his encounter with Tristan. But Shane was working, and he hadn’t been sure when he’d be finished.

He satisfied himself with a text. Call me if you can. No emergency. Bad day.

His phone rang a little after seven, jolting him out of staring at his bedroom ceiling.

“Hey, you okay?” Shane asked.

“Not really. How about you? You sound exhausted.”

“Long day, but what’s up? Tell me.” Something crackled, then the line got a little noisier.

“Where are you?”

“In the car, driving home. I put you on speaker.”

“Oh.”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Hearing babe from Shane made his afternoon feel a little less dreary. “I went to see Tristan today. He’d been rereading, so he remembered me and you and that I wanted to see you Thursday. So I told him what happened, and that we had sex, and the conversation got a little surreal. Tris must have forgotten the start of it and you, because I said something, I don’t even remember what, and then he kissed me.”

Shane didn’t respond right away. “What kind of kiss?”

“Not the kind you give a friend. I think he got the conversation messed up, then forgot it was now and not college when we hooked up occasionally.”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“No. I stopped it, but God, Shane, he was so upset that he’d misunderstood things so badly. He wouldn’t even let me stay and visit, he just kicked me out.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

“I get so pissed sometimes, you know? About what happened to him. He tries so hard to function as normally as he can, and setbacks like this are huge.”

“Have you called him since then? Maybe he’s forgotten it.”

“No, I know Tristan. He’s probably written it down multiple times, on multiple surfaces, so it stares him in the face whenever he turns around. That’s how he punishes himself when he’s angry. He puts his anger on the walls, until a nurse informs his therapist, and then they talk it out and the papers come down.”

“At least he’ll get help dealing with it, right?”

“I don’t care. I hate that he has to keep going through shit like this. I fucking hate what happened to him.” The fury bubbled up, spewing forth as word vomit, because he trusted Shane and he needed to get it out. “Did you know Tristan had an older brother? Alexander. He was four years older than Tristan. The golden child. Their parents put all of their expectations and hopes that Alexander would be a doctor like their dad. Marry and carry on the family name. All of the bullshit clichés.

“So what happens? Alexander ends up third in his class instead of valedictorian, like expected. So he steals the gun his parents keep in their nightstand, takes it to school and shoots himself in the head in front of the teacher whose grade demoted his rank.”

“Jesus Christ.” Shane made a noise. “Shit.”

“Tristan got bullied a lot for that, and then he got the added bonus of not only being a so-so student, but of his parents shifting their expectations to him. He had all of that to deal with, plus knowing he was gay and hiding it. He did his best, he went to college, and then he got bashed and his parents basically cut off everything except their money.” Noel’s throat closed up, but he choked out the last of it. “He doesn’t fucking deserve this.”

“No, he doesn’t, babe, no one deserves all that.”

Noel pinched the bridge of his nose, refusing to break down. He’d cried hundreds of tears over this already. “It’s just, he’s such a good person. A really gentle soul, loving, fun. I see bits and pieces of that sometimes, trying so desperately to get out, and then something like this happens, and I hate seeing him so angry.”

“He’s your best friend, Noel. You’re allowed to rage over his pain. You’d be a pretty shitty friend if you didn’t.”

“I hate that I can’t fix it for him.”

“Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Shane couldn’t fix Jason’s heart condition any more than Noel could fix Tristan’s memory problems. “I know you do. I think that’s why I needed to vent about this.”

“It sucks to see people you love in pain and not be able to make it right.”

“Exactly.” Noel wanted this conversation to be happening in person so badly. He needed the comfort of a caring hug more than almost anything, and he needed it from Shane. Shane always brought sunshine into the room. “Shane, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are we boyfriends?”

The sound Shane made was kind of like laughter. “I was thinking about the answer to that earlier today. Figured I’d ask you tomorrow.”

Noel’s heart kicked. “Well?”

“I’d like to be. I mean, we already know we want to keep seeing each other, and God knows we burn up the sheets. I feel good about myself when I’m with you, so yes, I’d like us to be boyfriends.” He could hear the smile in Shane’s voice.

“Good answer.” Might as well go in whole hog. “What about being exclusive?” The silence lasted so long that Noel double-checked to make sure he hadn’t dropped the call. “Shane?”

“Not yet.”

Noel’s stomach churned. “Okay.”

“And it’s not because I’m seeing someone else, or that I even want to see anyone except you. Please don’t think that, babe. But this is really new, and you aren’t out to anyone except me and Jason, and I don’t want to heap another huge thing on top of us. I promise you’re the only person I want right now, but…am I making sense?”

“Yes, you are.” Noel turned that one over. “And I see your point.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“Yes.” Shane had said what he needed to know—that he didn’t want anyone else. And he was right in that Noel hadn’t taken the most serious step of all and come out. To his coworkers and his friends in Stratton. Shane deserved that. “Yes, I’m okay with it.”

“Good. So are you feeling any better about Tristan?”

Noel shrugged, then remembered he was alone in the room. “Somewhat.”

“Don’t go to work pissed off, okay? It makes time drag.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, babe.”

“I’ll let you go, okay? See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely. G’night, Noel.”

“Night, cowboy.”

Energized by the conversation, Noel changed into his running shorts and sneakers. A quick jog before his shift sounded like the way to burn off the last of his anger. And maybe plot a few fun ways to spend tomorrow afternoon with his boyfriend.

Shane tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, alternately excited to have settled on the boyfriend label, and ashamed of himself for dodging the exclusivity question. His reasons had been rooted in absolute truth. He did want Noel to be out, not to think of Shane as someone he had to hide, before Shane would go all in with this relationship. He deserved nothing less. But he’d left out the main reason, and that was Mean Green Boys. Nothing about the sex he’d had today was emotional, and it had taken fucking forever for him to finally manage his come shot, but it was still sex. Sex he was having with people not Noel.

So he’d dodged a bullet and managed to keep his secret life a secret, and he was an asshole for not being totally honest with Noel.

An asshole who’s one more shoot from being out of debt.

He’d keep the promise he’d made to Jason, and then he’d make every promise he could think of to keep Noel in his life.

Just a little bit longer.