Valor on the Move (13 page)

“The big show. I hear you. Well, then you’d better get yourself back into your usual control. This is a phase. You can outlast it. Just lock that shit down, and keep your eyes on the prize. And off Rafael Castillo’s tight little ass.”

Shane huffed out a laugh. “I thought you said his brothers were the hot ones?”

“Well, he’s still got a nice caboose. There aren’t many tight asses I can’t admire. So he’s gay, huh? Or bi? It’s about time we had a queer in the White House. Woo boy, I bet his parents will not be happy about this. His momma might choke on her pearls.”

One of the guys called from inside Darnell’s bungalow. “Hey, runners are on first and third with no outs!”

“Coming!” Darnell yelled. He scooped the patties onto a plate. “Now just make sure you don’t come anywhere near Rafael Castillo.”

“Thanks for the sage advice as always.” Shane followed inside, hoping beer, burgers, and baseball would help clear his mind.

He and Rafa might both be gay, but nothing was ever going to happen. Could never and would never, so there was zero point in even thinking about it. Zero point in thinking about the fact that there was something about Rafa tugging at Shane in a way he couldn’t explain. Zero point in thinking about how Rafa’s nose wrinkled when he smiled for real, instead of for the public or his mother or whoever.

Zero point in thinking about how much Shane wanted to kiss him again. Zero point in thinking about how he wanted to make Rafa smile. And how Rafa made
him
smile, and feel lighter than he had in a long, long time.

No point at all.

As the underwater bing-bonging that signified a Skype call filled the air, Rafa muted the TV and picked up his tablet. It was Ashleigh, of course. His finger wavered over the answer button, but guilt kicked in, and he tapped it. He hadn’t spoken to her in more than a week aside from the odd text. He picked up the tablet and propped it on his knees, his feet braced on the coffee table.

“Bonjour, ma cheri! Or cher, perhaps? I don’t know, my French is still très basic.” Ashleigh smiled as she twisted her blonde hair up into a knot on her head. “I’m getting ready for bed, but we haven’t talked in forever. Things have been crazy here, sorry.” She tilted her head. “Where are you? I thought you’d be in the kitchen.” Behind her, he could see pillows and the bottom of a painting of high-heeled shoes on the wall.

“Solarium. Just watching TV.” Along with the traditional couches and potted plants in the windowed room, they had a big-screen TV with surround sound. The White House had its own little movie theater, which had been fun when he was younger, but now Rafa would rather flop on the couch. Especially on a day like this.

“Okay, what’s wrong? You look like warm spit.”

He huffed out a laugh and ran his hand through his tangle of waves. He hadn’t bothered slicking them back since he had no plans to venture off the third floor, and he most definitely didn’t have to fix his hair for Shane. Even if Shane had been on duty, no way would he have come upstairs after what Rafa did. “You’re great for my ego, Ash.”

Her brow furrowed. “But seriously, what’s up? Are you sick?” He could tell from her expression that if they’d been in the same room, she’d have pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

The lie was on his tongue, but instead he shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m fine. Just mopey or whatever. Tell me fun things about Paris. Any good art showings?”

But she ignored him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighed. “I screwed up. Like, big time.”

“Like, you-said-something-that-mortified-you-and-no-one-else-gave-a-second thought-to kind of screwed up? Or more like sophomore year, accidentally deleted your term paper and had to engage the White House tech squad to dig it up?”

“So much worse.” His stomach churned, and he thought it was very possible he might cry before this Skype conversation was through.

“I bet it’s not as bad as you think. Let’s work through it. Jump in the way-back machine and start at the beginning.”

“I can’t, Ash. It’s…we can’t talk about it like this. Only in person.”

Her eyes widened for a second. “Oh. Okay. Well, let me tell you about my wonderful week in the City of Lights.”

She talked for a few minutes, making him smile and even laugh a few times. Then, as he knew she would, she brought the conversation back around. “You would have loved this motorcycle I saw. Little Japanese number, all slick and chrome plated. Seen any good rides in DC lately?”

His mouth was dry, and Rafa swigged from a bottle of soda. “Yeah, actually. A really great one. The best I’ve ever seen in real life.”

“Wow. Tell me more. Contemporary or classic?”

“Classic. Harley. A little rough around the edges. Tough, but…really cool. Intriguing.”

“Hmm. Did you want to take it for a test drive real bad?”

“I…I actually tried to.” His face flamed, and he wished she couldn’t see him.

Ashleigh’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. Seriously? That’s a first.”

“And last,” he muttered. “It was such a mistake. I’m so stupid.”

“Why? It wasn’t…a good fit?”

“No, it was. It
so
was. But it was highly inappropriate. Not the right bike for me.” He scrounged for ways to keep the motorcycle code going. He’d never even kissed a guy before, so this was a first. “I knew it, but I couldn’t resist.”

“Okay.” Ashleigh seemed to be processing it. “Where’d you see this ride?”

He shifted. “Um, here.”

She blinked owlishly. “Wow. That was unexpected.”

“I know. Believe me.”

“Well, that explains why you look like someone just ran over your dog and mounted it over the fireplace. This classic Harley…how classic are we talking? How much older than you?”

Rafa bit his lip. “Um, a couple decades, I think.”

“Well, that is a classic indeed, Rafael Castillo. Go big or go home, huh? Are you going to see this bike again?”

“Definitely. Like, every day. Especially when I go out.”

Her jaw actually dropped open, and then her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Does this Harley come with its own radio?”

Closing his eyes, he nodded.

“
Raf
!” Ashleigh looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or not. “That’s definitely a risky ride to take. And here I was thinking I was naughty for seeing one particular painting at the Louvre three times this week.” She grimaced, her teeth pressing together. “I may have even touched it, which was totally against the rules. Alarm bells were ringing.”

Ashleigh had always insisted her vibrator would do her fine until they were out of college and out to their parents, especially after one girl she’d slept with in high school had tried to blackmail them. She was sure her Tea Party-leaning mom and dad would take it worse than Rafa’, and they had bet a bottle of Dom Pérignon on it. They’d always talked about crushes, but now it was suddenly becoming real. “Maybe you should just go for it.”

“I don’t know.” She stuck out her lower lip and blew strands of her hair up off her forehead. “Part of me thinks we should wait. But shit. It still feels so far away, you know? We’ve always had our four-year plan, though.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ll be too freaking humiliated to even look at another Harley for about five years at least.”

She winced. “That bad?”

“Worse. Whatever you’re imagining, times it by a hundred.” He’d replayed the kiss over and over, and each time the mortification grew, cold and clammy in the pit of his stomach. Even though it seemed like…just for a few seconds…had Shane kissed him back?
He had, hadn’t he? How else would his tongue get in my mouth?
At the thought, Rafa shivered hot and cold all over. Their mouths had been open, and he could still imagine the heat of Shane’s touch on his back, moving down his body…

But the memory of Shane’s hands firmly pushing him away overshadowed everything else. Not that he blamed Shane at all. Even if they were two regular people who met at a bar, what would Shane ever want with
him
? A gawky virgin likely wasn’t high on Shane’s to-do list. “It was like…I have no idea what came over me. Temporary insanity.”

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, as if some scrawny geek like me has any place trying to ki…ride a Harley.” And God, being with him was Shane’s job, And Rafa had put him in this terrible position. “Harleys are so out of my league.”

“Hey.” Ash drew her brows together and gave him her
I mean business
expression. “That’s bullshit. You may still think of yourself how you did when you were fourteen, but you’re all grown up. You’re hot. You can’t see it for some bizarre reason—you probably need a therapist to unpack why—but trust me. You are Harley-worthy.”

“But…” He wanted to believe it was true. He knew he’d grown a lot, but he still had those freckles, and his hair, and—

“Stop cataloguing all your perceived faults.”

Rafa had to chuckle. “Okay, okay.” He sighed. “I’m dreading tomorrow. Mom’s coming home from California, and the Harley will be back around. Wasn’t here today. I can’t hide up here forever.” He groaned. “And I bet my mom has more public speaking for me to do. I just wish I could hit fast-forward, you know?”

“I know. Stay strong. We can do this. Keep me posted, okay?”

“Yeah. Get to bed, Intern. Those lattes won’t get themselves tomorrow.”

“Sadly true. But hey, Raf? It’ll be okay. I bet it’s not as bad as you think. It never is. So stop torturing yourself. That’s an order.”

He gave a mock salute. “Ma’am, yes ma’am. Love you.”

Ashleigh blew him a kiss, and the connection terminated. He tossed the tablet beside him and groaned softly. No matter what she said, it really was as bad as he thought. There was no way it couldn’t be.
 

It was definitely, one hundred percent as bad as he feared.

In fact, it was worse, because when Rafa forced himself downstairs to the main level, Shane and Alan were there by the Red Room talking to a few of his mother’s agents. As Rafa entered the hall, they all glanced over, the chatter ceasing.

Do they know? Did he tell them? Oh my God they probably all had a good laugh, and right now they’re thinking about what a loser I am.

Their collective gaze felt like lasers on him, even though he knew Shane would be crazy to tell anyone his professionalism had been compromised. Panic clawing at his throat, Rafa dropped his eyes and kept walking toward the main staircase, hurrying down it and nodding to aides that passed by. He knew Alan and Shane would follow, and he stopped outside the China Room when he reached the basement. The China Room was one of those places in the White House that probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but now was just weird. Who needed ornate display cases of china settings?

“Good morning, Rafa. Are you off somewhere?” It was Alan’s voice. He couldn’t bear to look up.

“There you are, darling.” Heels clacking, his mother swept down the stairs in a navy pantsuit, her aides and agents trailing behind. “Did you have breakfast?”

“Uh-huh,” he lied. He’d attempted a piece of toast and given up after one choking bite.

“I’m going to greet some visitors in my office and give them a tour. Would you like to join us? I’m sure they’d be thrilled.”

Sure they would
. “Sorry, I can’t. I’m going to meet with Marissa,” he lied. “About the project.”

“Excellent.” She beamed—truly beamed—and guilt sliced through Rafa. “Have a productive day.” She strode away toward the East Wing.

As staff passed by, Rafa nodded and tried to smile. During the day there were so many more people around, and he wished he could run back up to the third floor and hide in his kitchen. But then he couldn’t talk to Shane, so he’d have to suck it up.

“Did you want us to drive you?” Alan asked.

“No, I’ll take my car. It’s been a while.” Rafa could see Shane in his peripheral vision, but kept his focus on Alan, who had dark circles under his eyes. “How’s your son doing?”

“Better.” Alan smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Um, so…” He glanced around. “I actually want to see a movie. Not meet Marissa. Not right now, anyway. I’m seeing her this afternoon.”

“Okay.” Alan glanced toward the East Wing, which housed the movie theater. “After you.”

“Oh, no. I want to go out. To a real theater. The AMC? It’s not far.”

Alan and Shane glanced at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation. Then Alan said, “Pop-up shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Cool. Thanks.” He started walking toward the West Wing, leaving through the Palm Room and going along the covered outdoor walkway, past a row of white columns. The West Wing bustled with activity, and Rafa smiled and nodded as he made his way past the Press Secretary’s office and the Cabinet Room, leaving through the other side and hurrying to the parking lot beyond. Shane and Alan followed, and Rafa resisted the urge to look back.

His Toyota chirped as he pressed the key fob, and despite the knot of tension threatening to cut off his airway, he smiled as he slid behind the wheel. He couldn’t freaking wait until the day when he could drive whenever and wherever he wanted, without anyone following or needing to know where he was going. He grabbed his Yankees cap from the passenger seat and tugged it over his slicked hair.