The Queen & the Homo Jock King (66 page)

“But… but… just… the
gay
bar,” I sputtered.

“I can’t believe you bought that.” He chuckled to himself. “I didn’t think it’d work. Seriously.” His voice turned slightly mocking. “You need to seduce Darren Mayne in order to get to his father to find a way to save a gay bar that’s being threatened with closure by the big, bad homophobes? Jesus, princess. This isn’t some eighties movie. That’s not how real life works.”

“But I
did
that,” I said, too taken aback to say much else. “I did
exactly
that!”

“Right,” Mike said. “And I don’t think I can comprehend how it all happened. But you got a boyfriend out of it. So, you’re welcome.”

“Okay,” Darren said. “You can murder him now.”

“You fucking Freddie Prinze
Juniored
me?” I exclaimed shrilly.

“I don’t know if I know what that means,” Mike said. “Even if you guys say it all the time.”

“
It doesn’t fucking matter if you don’t know what that means
. You did this. You are a goddamn
liar
—”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “Why are you mad?”

“
Because
,” I said. “You
lied
to me. You made me think that Darren was pining after his father, wanting a relationship with him because he had
daddy
issues!”

“I have
what
?” Darren asked, sounding incredulous. “I don’t even
like
my father. I don’t even
talk
to him. Why the hell would I be
pining
after him?”

“Had to tug on the heartstrings,” Mike said as if it were nothing. “Really sell it, you know? And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker, princess. You’re such a bleeding heart sometimes.”

“I will stab your
liver
, you fucking piece of—”

“You said you were happy,” he pointed out. “You have Darren. Jack It will stay open. We made a shit-ton of money for crack babies, and I’ll get
amazing
publicity for it. What, exactly, do you have a problem with?”

“You magnificent bastard,” I said because he was
right
. He was really that damn good.

“Thank you,” he said, looking rather pleased with himself. “There is something rather Machiavellian about this whole thing. I’m like a supervillain who has a heart of gold and did something nice for the holidays.” Then his eyes lit up again. “Oh, and one more thing. Darren, speaking of visits to prison, you may want to reconsider your position, especially if you ever want to try and form a relationship with your father. Though, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

And with that, he picked up the TV remote off his desk and, without looking away from us, pointed it over his shoulder to the small flat-screen TV hanging in the corner.

The TV flashed on. It was turned to CNN.
BREAKING NEWS
was listed dramatically in the corner of the screen, while there was a shot obviously taken from a helicopter.

I recognized downtown Tucson almost immediately. In fact, it was only a few miles from where we were standing right now. I could probably go outside and see the helicopter circling in the distance.

“…just joining us,” the anchor was saying, “breaking news out of Tucson, Arizona, today where the FBI, in conjunction with the Pima County Sheriff’s Department, has raided the offices of Tucson mayor Andrew Taylor. An unnamed spokesperson, citing the ongoing investigation, has stated that Mayor Taylor was arrested in his home earlier today on charges of embezzlement, tax fraud, and misappropriation of moneys earmarked for charities. As you can see from the footage, taken from local affiliate KGUN9, the offices are being emptied, with files and hard drives being removed from the scene. The mayor’s office has yet to release a statement, though it’s expected to have a response sometime this evening. Andrew Taylor has been in the spotlight as of late following the death of his wife last year and then his endorsement of Neo-Nazi presidential candidate Donald Trump. Before Trump’s campaign collapsed, there were rumors of a possible vice-presidential nomination for Taylor, though nothing came of it. Recent polls show Taylor’s popularity has recently taken a nosedive in light of accusations made—”

Mike turned off the TV.

“Oops,” he said, smiling.

“You did this,” I breathed.

“Of course not,” Mike scoffed. “Everyone knows anonymous tips never pan out. I guess his bad luck finally just caught up with him.”

“Oh my god,” Darren said. “I came from those loins.”

“Ew,” I said. “You should never say anything like that again.” Then I frowned. “You didn’t embezzle for your dad, did you? I’m not about to get my face splashed all over the news in a scandal I didn’t create myself. I have standards, after all. It’d have to be a sex tape or pictures of me snorting cocaine off Vin Diesel’s ass.”

Darren rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You know I had nothing to do with that.”

“Like I would ever let you close to him if I thought he’d done something illegal,” Mike said. Then he eyed us both critically. “Well, more illegal than apparently fucking inside my bar.”

“Which you do all the time,” I pointed out. “And when did you become like the Godfather?”

“Fairy godfather,” he corrected. “And princess, you should never underestimate the power of the Super Gays.”

I stared at him blankly.

“
I’m
one of the Super Gays,” he clarified.

“Ooh,” I said. “That makes so much more sense. So, just so we’re clear, you basically orchestrated this entire thing as a means to get Darren and I together, right?”

“Exactly,” he said.

I moved around Darren, not giving a damn that I was naked. I stood in front of Mike’s desk and smiled warmly. “Thank you,” I said. “For helping me see what was right in front of me.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, princess.”

The smile dropped off my face and I bared my teeth at him. I reached out and grabbed him by the chest hair, pulling him up and out of his seat. He squeaked as I brought his face inches from my own, snarling at him. “That being said, if you
ever
try and meddle in my life again, I will
end
you so fast, you won’t know what hit you until you’re already burning in the fiery pits of hell. Do you understand me?”

“Meep,” he said, nodding frantically.

“And you’re still paying for my Miss Gay America bid, you dickmonger.”

“Anything,” he gasped.

“Good,” I spat at him. I shoved him back toward his seat. “Now, I don’t want to see you again for at least a week. If you even
remotely
consider stepping inside
my
club while I’m here during that week, I’ll get my boyfriend to kick the shit out of you.”

“Wait, what?” Darren said.

“Look intimidating,” I hissed at him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and turned the full might of his death glare at Mike. It was literally one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.

“You know,” Mike said, clearing his throat. “It’s hard feeling threatened when you’ve got half a chub going on from that alone. Seriously, princess. You are so gone on him.”

And what sucked is that he was right. About the feelings.

And the boner.

“Give me your shirt!” Darren barked at him, which did nothing but make things worse for me.

He complied rather quickly, stripping his button-down off, leaving him in an old tank top. He tossed the shirt to Darren, who hooked it around my waist, tying it off so it slung low around my hips.

“Huh,” I said. “I guess I just look good in everything.” I glared back up at Mike. “And you’re not getting it back!”

And with that, I stormed out of the trailer, Darren close on my heels. He slammed the door behind us. We stood in the gravel parking lot, just staring at each other, breathing heavily. He broke first, lips twitching. I followed quickly and soon, we were hanging off each other, laughing so hard that it hurt, because this was literally the stupidest and most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me.

And it seemed he felt the same way.

Which was good.

He wiped the tears from my eyes and then hugged me close.

“You okay?” I asked, laughter still in my voice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, holding me tight.

“Your dad.”

“He wasn’t my dad,” Darren said. “Hadn’t been for a very long time. If ever. It’s fine. Trust me. If anything, it’s a burden I no longer have to worry about carrying.”

I pulled back, but only just, his hands on my arms, my own up around his shoulders. He had a smile on his face, his eyes bright. He was looking at me like I was something special, and I was starting to see that I was. At least to him. And I think that was all that mattered. “And everything else?” I asked.

“You mean how we were essentially tricked into being together because we couldn’t figure it out ourselves?”

“Yes. That.”

He leaned forward and kissed me, lingering and sweet. “You know we’re going to have to thank him eventually.”

“Fuck him,” I said with a scowl. “Maybe thirty years from now when he’s cold in the ground and we’re spitting on his grave, I’ll entertain the thought. And then I’ll banish it from my head and we’ll go get tacos or something.”

“That’s pretty much what I expected from you.” He shook his head. “I have no problem with—” He stopped himself, looking back up at me like he’d been shocked.

“What?” I asked.

“You want us to be spitting on his grave together in thirty years?” he asked, voice tentative, almost shy. “And then getting tacos?”

I frowned. “Well, yeah. I don’t—oh. Um. I see what you mean. I mean, we don’t
have
to be together in thirty years. To spit on
anything
. If you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to imply that we’d—”

He kissed me again, more desperately this time, his tongue against mine. I squeaked into his mouth as his hands started roaming to more southerly destinations. “Yes,” he said against my lips, breath hot, hands on my ass. “We’re going to spit on his grave in thirty years. And eat tacos. Together.” And then he kissed me again, pressing me up against the trailer.

It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS,”
Johnny Depp screamed. “Paul Auster is a bloody poofter!”

“What the hell,” Paul groaned from his spot on the couch next to Vince. Christmas music played low in the background. Wrapping paper lay strewn about the floor, presents piled up at our feet. We’d get it cleaned up, eventually. For now, though, we were content sitting in Matty and Larry’s living room watching Wheels tear through the paper like it had offended him personally. Well, content until Johnny Depp opened his beak and started dropping homophobic rants as he was wont to do.

“Don’t you glare at me, Paul Auster,” Nana said. “He gets that from
Downton Abbey
. He likes watching BBC.”

“Put his blanket over his cage,” Paul said. “At least he’ll be quiet, then.”

“It’s Christmas,” Nana said. “Family should be together. God bless us, everyone.”

“Johnny Depp’s not
my
family,” Paul muttered as Vince patted his hand.

“Maybe I’ll put a blanket on
you
,” Nana said.

“Come at me, bro,” Paul said.

“Fuck your face!” the parrot called.

“Language,” Larry said with a frown. He and Matty were sitting in chairs pulled from the dining room table. They sat hand in hand next to the Christmas tree. He wore the ugliest Christmas sweater I’d ever seen, something he’d stitched himself that was supposed to show the crucifixion of Jesus, but instead looked like Jesus was eating a meatloaf with a rather large goat.

“Be nice, Johnny Depp,” Vince said.

“Pretty. Pretty, pretty!”

“Do you think it’s healthy that a bird has a crush on my brother?” Darren asked me, arm warm and heavy around my shoulders as we sat on the floor, backs against the couch.

“Probably not.” I leaned my head back on his arm. “But then I don’t know if there’s really anything healthy about this family. It’s sort of our gift.”

“What a lovely thing to say,” Matty said, smiling down at me. “Did you hear that, Larry? Sandy thinks we’re gifted.”

“Of course we are,” Larry said. “It also probably helps that we’re a very attractive group of people. We should consider doing a family Christmas card and releasing it to the world like those soul-sucking monsters that I love do on TV.”

“Do I even want to know?” Paul asked.

“Your father likes the Kardashians,” Matty said.

“I want to get collagen injections in my lips,” Larry said.

“And butt implants,” Matty whispered loudly in his ear.

“And butt implants,” Larry said. “Because I like the way they work it.”

“Do it,” Kori said. She sat next to Paul and Vince on the couch. “Do both of those things. Then I will teach you how to twerk.”

“I’m going to get down with my bad self,” Larry announced.

“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered. “Every Christmas.”

“I once got down with my bad self,” Nana said. “Back in the year 2013. It was a different time then. We could get down and no one would even bat an eye. Now, you can’t even show your nipples in public unless you’re breastfeeding. How unfair is that?”

“Okay, wait a minute,” Sherry Mayne said. She’d driven down from Phoenix at an invitation from Larry and Matty to spend the holidays with us. Darren had been shocked when he’d heard, like he’d still had a hard time believing any of this was real, then shyly pleased. I had wanted to wreck him after seeing that look. “That was only two years ago.”

“Right?” Nana said with a snort. “Thanks Obamacare.”

“I don’t think I understand what that means,” Sherry said, looking perplexed. She was the last person on the couch, next to Kori, squished in tight.

“No one does,” Matty said. “That’s why we just smile and nod.”

Sherry smiled and nodded at Nana.

“Darren,” Nana whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I think your mom is flirting with me. What do I do? Do I smile back? Or do I show her the flogger Charlie got me?”