Read Long Way Home by Carolyn Gray Online

Authors: Carolyn Gray

Tags: #LGBT Suspense

Long Way Home by Carolyn Gray (9 page)

I’m fragile!” he said, laughing. Then he sobered. “I mean it. Be careful out there. Going back can

be really tough on the memories. If you need anything, call.” He pulled out his BlackBerry. “And

call Gev. I’ll send you his number. Might be fun to talk with him without anyone else around.”

“I will,” Lee said, though he wasn’t positive that would happen. “You’d better go. Mutt’s

looking impatient.”

Nick rolled his eyes and headed for the taxi, waving to Lee as he got inside. “Have fun!”

“I’ll try.”

The taxi driver closed the back door after making sure Nick was comfortable—he clearly

knew money when he saw it. Nick would insist on giving the cab driver an outrageous tip

regardless, but he always enjoyed the extra touches. They drove off then, and Lee watched until

the taxi disappeared around the corner.

Only then did he head for the rental, unlock the driver’s side, and slide in. He turned on the

car and headed for a parking space, then decided no, it was early yet. He hadn’t eaten, and

though the pancake dinner had been late, he was starving. No reason not to head out now and

possibly locate a different hotel out of the downtown area and closer to where he had a feeling

he’d spend most of his time.

Seconds later, he was on the highway. His phone chirped; Nick had texted him Gev’s

number. He stared at Gev’s number for a moment, then closed his phone.

He’d store it later. Maybe.

38

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Six

Gev woke up with a start. It was morning—too damn early, that was for sure. He kicked

off his covers with a groan for his aching muscles, startling the cat. Terror Screech jumped off

the bed with an affronted yowl.

“You do have your own bed, you know.”

The cat, responding as she always did to Gev’s snarkiest voice, sidled up and jumped back

onto the bed. Chuckling, he waited to see what Screech would do. Sure enough, the cat climbed

atop his chest and settled down, purring happily.

“You’re warped, you know that?”

The cat eyed him with half-slit, golden-green eyes.

“You’re holding me captive, aren’t you?” He thumped his hands to his sides, not really

minding. Too blasted early to be up, too fucking unbelievable a night.

Seeing Lee Nelson had nearly knocked him off the stage. How many times had he dreamed

of seeing Lee again in person? Even though years had passed since Gev had seen more than a

photo of him, Lee hadn’t changed that much. Older, with the five o’clock shadow that went with

it, but he carried himself the same, had the same gestures, the same thoughtful looks. And his

eyes… Gev had a thing for eyes, especially dark brown ones fringed by long lashes. He’d been

relieved, he had to acknowledge—a life of fame hadn’t destroyed Lee’s looks.

He’d discovered only by accident Lee had actually done well for himself, playing bass

professionally. A lot of his girlfriends in high school had loved Dream. When he’d realized Lee

worked for Nick Kilmain—
the
Nick Kilmain—and had for years, it’d been a shock. Nice one,

though.

He never told his friends he knew—
had known
—Lee. Or about Stefan, though a few knew.

His family had moved when he was a sophomore, and while he’d hated it at first, it made

pretending things hadn’t happened much easier. He really didn’t like to think about the past

much, and being somewhere new, where only an occasional person connected him to Stefan’s

case, had made it easier. Whenever someone did make the connection, though, it slammed into

him, hard. Made him think of his brother too damn much, and how his disappearance had

changed things. Changed his mother.

His heart lurched between anger and sadness at the thought of his mom. She never

mentioned Lee, never seemed to wonder what had happened to him. Gev had tried to tell her

about Lee playing bass for Dream, but she’d looked at him through stark eyes and turned away

without a word.

Gev pushed the cat off, gently this time, and got out of bed. The cold air brushed against

his naked skin—he liked it cool, always missed cold climates when he left them. But the need to

be near his family again—Nina’s new family, at least—had finally won over, and he’d quit

Joffrey’s traveling company, settling in Dallas, at least for now. No regrets there. Nina hadn’t

Long Way Home

39

had it easy at first, suddenly being a parent to three kids, but his new nieces and nephew were

great kids. They didn’t remember their mom, and Nina, being generally awesome as she was,

had won them over quickly. As had he. He was their favorite uncle.

He still wasn’t sure about Nina’s husband, Mason, though. The guy was flat-out strange,

and Gev always felt apologetic around him and resented being made to feel that way. Mason was

gone so much, Gev was halfway convinced he had married Nina just so she could take care of

his kids. So Gev had moved back, and he helped out where he could.

And in return, Nina fed him. At least Mason didn’t mind that.

Gev pulled on his sweats as he left his room and padded into the kitchen. He noticed a pair

of heavy, black, silver-studded boots on the floor by the door. Great. Chad had picked up a stray

again, apparently. That boy was gonna get himself into some serious shit if he wasn’t careful.

Gev pulled out a carton of milk from the fridge. Singles, because he liked to drink from the

bottle, which disgusted Chad. Not that Chad drank milk, but he complained the cat did, and it

wasn’t nice to pollute it for the cat, right? Gev had argued cats shouldn’t have milk, but Chad

never listened.

Whatever. Gev put the rest of the carton back in the fridge, then bent down and picked up

his running shoes. He had apparently left them here for some reason, or Screech had dragged

them in. That cat had a worse shoe fetish than Chad did. Gev sat on the kitchen floor to untie the

knotted laces and put them on.

“Gev? You up, man?”

“In here.”

Chad entered the kitchen, yawning, wearing only boxer briefs, scratching his crotch, his

bleached-blond hair in disarray. “What the hell you doing up already? Didn’t you have a

performance last night?”

“Yup.” Gev popped up off the floor. He bounced on the tips of his toes a few times,

adjusting his feet. They had to be just right, or else he couldn’t be free to not think about how the

socks were bunching up in his shoes while he ran. “Break for a few days. Forgot to tell you, I’ll

be gone for about a week.” Satisfied, he moved into the living room and sat again to stretch. His

calves ached a little. Not enough sleep, he figured.

Chad followed. “Why?”

“Some of us are going to drive to New Mexico to help out with a dance camp.”

“Dance camp? You? Why would you do that?”

“It’ll be great.” There was no point trying to convince Chad of that, but Gev was looking

forward to the trip. Give a few workshops, perform for the kids, make new connections, and see

a few old friends. All the things Chad hated.

Chad leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and propping one foot to

the side. “Sucks,” he said, as Gev had predicted.

“Not really. It’ll be fun.” Gev rolled his head in a circle, stretching his neck. “Francesca

and I are going to do a workshop on partnering.”

Chad shuddered. “I can’t believe you like that bitch.”

Gev smacked him on the leg. “Be nice. She’s fantastic. We’ve been working a lot together.

She’s helped me.”

“We both know you needed
that
.”

40

Carolyn Gray

Gev reached over to pinch Chad, but he danced out of the way. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding.

Good for you, then, I guess. Sounds like a lot of hard work. But good. Great, even.

Congratulations. You’ve worked hard for it. This mean you’re moving?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Rockies are a hell of a lot prettier than Dallas.”

Gev stretched his legs out, pointing his toes, then flexing them again against the

postperformance ache. “Not planning on it, no. It’s in Clovis.” He pulled his heels in and

grabbed his ankles.

“Oh. That sucks. You going running?”

“Obviously.”

Chad yawned. “Mind if I crash in your bed, then? Mine sucks.”

“Why’s that?”

“Biker boy is big.”

Gev released his ankles and rubbed his calf, shaking his head at his roommate. “Wake him,

and tell him to go home.”

“Nah.” Chad stretched, then patted his stomach before sliding his hand down to his boxer-

clad cock. Gev rolled his eyes. “He’s also damn good. Think I might keep this one.”

“What’s his name?”

“I dunno.” Chad watched him for a moment as Gev finished stretching. “Don’t know how

you do it. I’d be falling apart and exploding all over. I’d whine.”

“True.”

Chad had once been a dancer too, well used to the work, and that was exactly why he’d

quit—the work part. Too much time devoted to whining about that which they all endured. He’d

quit shortly after Gev joined the company, and Gev had missed him. Of the single gay guys in

the company, Chad was the only one who didn’t make him want to screech louder than Screech.

Even with the whining. All one had to do was tell Chad to shut up, and he would. Novel idea,

that.

So when Chad mentioned he needed a roommate, Gev had jumped at the chance.

Especially when he found out where it was—in the heart of the gayborhood, within walking

distance of good places to eat, a bookstore, a movie theater. Perfect. Too far from the Majestic

not to need a car, but that was okay.

“Can’t believe you’re running. What time you get in?”

“Before you did. Where’d you drag this one from, anyway?”

“Zippers.” Chad waved at Gev to follow him. “Want to see him?”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, come on. Not every day I snag a biker,” he whispered, making Gev hope that said

biker was still suitably passed out. Especially when Chad said, “Oh, my God, his thighs, Gev!

His
thighs
!” He exhaled dreamily, making Gev push him.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Oh no, I’m not. Riding a Harley takes good, strong, powerful muscles, you know. And

did he show them to me last night.” Chad rubbed his backside. “Boy, did he.”

Long Way Home

41

Unlike Chad’s, Gev’s taste didn’t run toward the physical, the prize at the end of a well-

crafted hunt. As far as other people knew, Chad was too nice a guy to be called predatory, but

Gev knew different. If Chad had set his eyes on biker boy, then said biker boy had no hope. Chad

was gorgeous, flamingly so, the stereotypical gay ballet dancer that might as well have had “I’m

Gay!” stamped on his forehead. But he was also a bossy bottom. Not Gev’s style, but there was

something about him that reminded Gev of Stef, and he’d found he could enjoy Chad’s company

unlike anyone else could. For months, their friends had assumed they were partners, even

ignoring their denials, until Chad had finally lost his cool over that when it started to cramp his

style.

No one assumed ever again.

Fine with Gev, not that he slept around himself. He’d practically been a monk since

arriving in Dallas, though Chad had dragged him out whenever Gev’s protests weren’t clever

enough. He was a persistent bastard, proving so now as he motioned Gev closer, then opened his

door slightly and pointed toward the bed.

Gev looked, else Chad would never shut up about it. His guest for the night was fast

asleep, snoring even, on his stomach, his arms and legs stretched out, naked. Gev had to agree—

the guy had huge thighs. And a hell of a nice ass.

“See?” Chad said. “He’s a pig in bed, though, taking up all the space.”

Gev left Chad’s room, heading for the front door. He needed to get his run in. “So push

him over.”

“That ox? Have you any idea how much thighs like that weigh? Might hurt myself.”

Gev yanked on the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn. “Damn.”

“Oh, sorry, I did that last night, I guess. Or biker boy did.”

Gev bent down to peer at the lock. He twisted it back and forth, but the knob wouldn’t

budge. Great. “You really don’t know his name.”

“Biker boy’s all I need to know. You should see how—”

Gev clamped his hand over Chad’s mouth. “No. You’re sick. Sick sick sick.” He dropped

his hand.

“Yup, and loving every second of it. Go through the window.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’ll fix it later, after I’ve had a little nap.” Chad unlatched the window and pushed the

screen out into the bushes. “See?” he said, waving his hand. “There’s got to be some advantages

to having the downstairs part of the house. And this is it.”

Gev figured,
why not
? He would rather not be around when the biker woke up. “Have him

gone before I get back.”

“Oh, you’re no fun, but okay. Fine. Take your cell, and I’ll call when the coast is clear.”

“I don’t like running with it.”

“Then how will you know it’s safe?”

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