Chapter 22

Jake

“What was that tension filling the condo when we came in?”

“Huh?” Distracted, I turn to Ellis, pulling my eyes from the endless rows of cosmetics in Randi’s spare bedroom.

“Lover’s quarrel?”

“I don’t even know, man.”

Watching as he shuffles about the room packing various things, I cross my arms over my chest. I had a beautiful mom and several female cousins, so I can easily recognize the vast expense of all the things in this room. In one corner, the setup looks like something out of a science lab. Ellis interrupts before I can walk over there.

“You do know, but you don’t want to talk about it.” He pushes a black case into my hands. “Zip that up.”

“Last night was rough,” I confess as I work the zipper making sure not to jostle the contents.

“I know just how rough last night was. It took two blowjobs and thirty minutes of fucking before I had Jas calmed down enough not to hunt you down last night.”

Wincing, I avoid eye contact and set the case down near the door.

“I fucked up,” I mutter.

“Big time,” he adds handing me another case.

“What kind of show requires this much makeup? If a woman requires this much junk, there’s probably no point in putting any on to begin with.”

Ellis chuckles as I set aside another case.

“Men,” he says with his hands on his hips as he looks around the room to see if he’s missed anything.

“Men?”

“More specifically drag queens,” he says.

“No shit?” A huge smile spreads my face.

“Why the shit-eating grin?” Gasping playfully, he covers his mouth with his hand. “Jake, do you have a thing for trannies?”

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “Not all drag queens are trannies.”

A perfect eyebrow arches. “Color me shocked that you’d even know that.”

“I’m going with you guys.”

Where the hell did that come from?

“Are you?” Head tilted to the side, he smiles again.

“And I’m inviting a friend.” I shove the last case he handed me back into his arms and pull out my phone.

“I don’t have a thing for drag queens, but my best friend is going to love this.”

***

“I had no idea this was even a thing in Dallas!” I yell over the music blaring through the speakers controlled by a gorgeous woman in the DJ booth.

Hunter pulls his eyes from the crowd and glares at me. “Seriously? Dallas has some of the most amazing shows. The city has hosted the Miss Gay America pageant a dozen damn times. How do you not know any of this?”

All I can do is laugh at him. “Not really my scene.”

“You seem to like the looks of the DJ,” he teases.

My eyes glance up again. “I can admire beauty.” It’s not like Randi and I are in a relationship, but I have no desire to do more than look at anyone but her these days. “She’s gorgeous.”

“He,” he clarifies.

“Fuck me,” I mutter, opting to stare at my beer instead of looking around the bar.

Hunter grunts a laugh before taking a long pull on his beer.

“Tricky bastards. I had no idea.”

“That’s the whole point.” He grins again, slapping my back lightheartedly.

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself, but I didn’t think this crowd was your cup of tea.”

“Have you ever been to a drag show?”

I tilt my head giving him a look that says ‘Are you fucking kidding me? Of course, I haven’t.’

“It’s one of the most entertaining things you’ll ever see.” Looking around the room, a light I haven’t seen in a while fills his eyes. “I’m not sexually attracted to men in drag. I’m into manly men, but I can enjoy the art of it.”

Looking around, I take the scene in around me with a brand new perspective. The perfect makeup, the clothes altered to fit a different physique than they were intended. It’s all a lot of work and endless dedication.

“Plus,” Hunter says knocking my shoulder with his. “It’s absolutely hilarious.”

I follow his gaze to the stage just as Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado begins to fill the room.

A stacked blonde with hair higher than gravity should allow bounds from between the curtains. Cheers fill the room as the queen dips, bobs, and spins around on the stage. I don’t know if she’s actually singing, but the tiny headset peeks out near her mouth every once in a while. Long dress, split almost indecently up her thigh shimmers under the stage lights causing prisms of color to bounce off the walls.

“Wow,” I say more to myself than anyone else. “How the fuck is she doing that on heels.”

“Like I said, it’s an art,” Hunter reminds me.

“Yeah, it is,” I agree never taking my eyes off the stage.

“Give it up for Misus LaQueer!” Comes through the sound system.

Before I can stop myself, I’m on my feet cheering like I have a personal stake in the woman strutting around the stage. She winks in my direction, and my face heats at the attention.

“Look who has plans after the show,” Hunter teases before we sit back down to watch the next act come out on the stage.

“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss around the mouth of my beer, but my smile never fades.

“It’s great right?”

“Amazing,” I agree.

The show goes on, over a dozen acts performing, each with their own flare. I watched each and every one enthralled as if I’ve never been allowed out of the house before.

When the DJ announces the show is over and the winner will be announced in half an hour, Hunter and I head to the bar for another beer.

“I’ve never heard so much Gaga and Donna Summer before in my life.”

Hunter hands me a beer. “I question your sexuality for even knowing Donna Summer’s name.”

“My mom liked that shit.” I don’t tell him that I liked it, too. It’s all upbeat, and as a kid, that’s all it took to keep me interested.

“Look out, lover boy,” Hunter whispers as much as he can in the loud room. “Misus LaQueer has you in her sights.”

I freeze when a warm hand runs up my spine before settling on my shoulder.

“I saw you eyeing me.” The voice is sultry, albeit more masculine than you’d expect to come from someone with such pretty fingernails.

My eyes widen, but Hunter just stares at me, a smile spreading the width of his face. I beg him with my eyes, pleading with him to act like my boyfriend and shoo this person away. I’m not a homophobe by any measure, but I question what she will think if I shrug her off like I would a person I was certain had a pussy between her legs. Seems I’m uncomfortable with even appearing offensive.

“Please,” I finally mouth to Hunter when one of the perfect fingernails begins tracing circles on the side of my neck.

“Really?” My eyes damn near pop out of my fucking head at the sound of Randi’s voice. “I can’t leave you alone for a fucking hour.”

“It’s not—” I spin in her direction, catching Misus LaQueer around her middle when I nearly knock her over. “Fuck, you’re more solid than you look.”

“You know it, baby.”

I nearly let him fall to the damn ground when I look into her familiar, bright blue eyes.

“Fucking, Ellis.”

A masculine chuckle rushes past his painted lips. I resist the urge to run my finger over the flawless skin of his face just to make sure he isn’t wearing a mask.

“You look fucking incredible. I hardly recognized you.”

“Well thank you, sugar.” Ellis stands, moving from my embrace. “It’s all Randi. She’s the miracle worker.”

Jas chooses then to walk up. The huge grin on his face tells me he saw the entire encounter. “She does have a flawless canvas to work with.”

I look from Ellis to Randi and back again, before settling my eyes on her. She’s flustered, cheeks red, looking exhausted.

“You do amazing work,” I commend.

“She did over half of the performers,” Ellis adds with pride in his voice.

“Hello?” I hear Hunter say. “Fifth wheel over here.”

“Fuck,” I say and turn in his direction.

“Jas and Ellis, this is Hunter Cochran.”

“Cock?” Jas teases with a smile as they shake hands.

“Seems my name chose my destiny,” Hunter says, not for the first time in his life.

Jas’ eyes turn back in my direction as Ellis shakes his hand. “You really do have a gay best friend?”

“Only best friends until I can convince him to switch sides.” Also something he’s said too many times to count. Hunter looks at Ellis. “You were fucking amazing.”

I turn to Randi when Ellis, Jas, and Hunter delve into a convo about other drag shows and a mutual friend.

I push a lock of stray hair behind her ear. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” she confesses.

“Can I take you home?”

“I have to wait for them to announce the winners, but I’m starving,” she answers.

“Announcements, dinner, then home.”

I smile into her hair when I pull her into my arms, and she doesn’t push me away.