Page 27 of Romeo vs Romeo

And there he was, standing uncertainly in the doorway, just about to knock on the doorframe with one knuckle. His gaze met mine, and the murmurs quieted.

Everett cleared his throat, his nerves thin and on edge so clearly that I was almost sorry for him. But I couldn’t be sorry. There was no room for pity in my heart because I admired him way too much right now. I couldn’t take my eyes off him with how proud I was of him.What a leap, I thought. Just a week ago, he’d been scared of a drag queen, terrified of gay men, and full of hatred for himself. But here he was, in the closest circle.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, his voice rough and manly.

There was no dimming my goofy smile. “You’re not late at all.” I crossed the room and took his hand, relief splashing me like the waves of a sea splashed against a cliff during a rising ride. He didn’t hate me for kissing him. He didn’t run. Pulling him by his hand, I led Everett to the middle of the room. “Everyone, this is Everett. This was all his idea. And Everett, this is everyone.”

Everett swallowed nervously and nodded. “Is it happening?”

“We’re doing it,” I assured him. “The whole blitz.”

Mama Viv approached us and took Everett by his shoulders. He didn’t even wince when she pulled him into a tight hug,wrapping her arms around his shoulders and upper back. She held him for a moment, thanked him, and let him go.

The others echoed the thanks. Martha praised his quick thinking. And I…

Well. I just gazed at him with this silly smile plastered on my face, and a whole new level of attraction unlocked. He wore a hoodie and a pair of jeans, posing as straight as an arrow, but there was something new in his eyes. They were the old, tired eyes of someone who couldn’t see a way out of his problems. These were the dazzling blue eyes that were full of hope, even if there was a sliver of doubt in them.

“Thank you,” I said quietly to Everett when everyone else began chatting further about the things they could do. “You gave us hope.”

Everett smiled softly, for my eyes only. “I pray it’s more than hope.”

“Hope is what we need right now,” I assured him.

Everett was happy to stand next to me and to stand so close that I could almost feel his warmth. It made me happy that he didn’t fear me. It made me so ridiculously happy that I hadn’t turned him against me last night.

He would be a brave fighter for Neon Nights. Few had the strength he possessed.

It took all I had to stop myself from taking his hand in mine again.

CHAPTER 7

The Flames That Consume Us

Everett

We sataround an antique coffee table in Lady Vivien’s sitting room, drinking coffee, talking at length, and forming plans to fight my father. None of them knew, and I wished I could keep it that way. I wished I could keep it that way with all of them except Roman. Some incredibly stupid instinct urged me to tell Roman who I was, but I didn’t dare.

I talked the least, choosing to listen to their conversation instead. Martha, Roman’s friend from picket lines and die-ins, called a friend of hers. She spoke with this person for a little while, explaining the history of the place and its significance for the queer culture of New York City, and happily announced to everyone that Layla Zahran would join the cause with her legal expertise.

Luke Whitaker, a twenty-nine-year-old sensation in the world of queer graphic novels—or so Roman told me—drafted a petition memo and a letter to his readers. A brief discussion ensued over the possible mentions of corruption and bribery.

My heart sank as the room split into two factions. On one side, they wanted to come as close to accusing my father ofbribing the local government officials to allow him to purchase this property; on the other side, they insisted the cause would lose credibility if we threw unfounded accusations at the mastermind behind it.

Only I knew the truth.

“Everett?” Roman said, and I became aware that he had been looking at me for a little while. “Are you alright?”

I scratched the back of my head, fighting an abrupt wave of nausea. “Eminent domain is tricky,” I said. To my surprise, the voices in the room quieted, all attention on me. “It’s vague, for one thing. Worse still, it rests on a lot of research that supports the claim that a certain piece of property is necessary for the good of the public. This can mean that whoever purchases Neon Nights and builds something on this plot has ‘evidence’ that their project will bring more jobs to the local community, for example.”

“Research like that is notoriously biased,” Martha said.

“It is, but it’s done by…” I bit back the name of the research and analytics company my father hired for all his projects. “…well-connected companies, to say the least.”

“Can’t we conduct research that proves the opposite?” Roman asked.

“Maybe, if you have a lot of money and a lot of time. These things take months, and the companies that perform such research for large corporations are very experienced.” I rubbed my brow and discovered that it was slick with cold sweat. The line I treaded was very thin and very high above the ground. One wrong step, and I would fall to my doom. “You have to understand this isn’t your typical bribery. It’s not how these things work.” I licked my lips. Where the fuck were my balls, dammit? Putting my hands on my knees to conceal the oncoming wave of trembling, I inhaled and spoke with more haste and annoyance than I wished. “The idea that there is anenvelope passing hands between a CEO and local officials is crazy. It’s about relationships. The big boss probably plays golf on sunny weekends with the head of Urban Planning. Golf’s a long, boring game, guys, and they start chatting. I don’t know, the CEO will invite the head of an important department to his home for dinner, or he’ll happen to have spare tickets for a big game, or he’ll let the official win that day and send a set of platinum golf clubs the next day. You’re not looking for a bank transaction. You’re looking for shoulder tapping.”

Roman frowned, and my heart lurched with fear. Had I outed myself? “That’s useful knowledge,” he said, committing it to his memory.

---