Page 24 of The Question of Us
Mads raised a hand. “Gazza?—”
“No, Madigan.” Gazza spun to face Mads, the tattooed vine around his neck pulsing with irritation. “It’s true. Nick’s suffered a tragic loss, I get that, but it’s no excuse not to treat people right.”
Mads shook his head. “It wasn’t just Nick?—”
“No, he’s right,” I said, earning myself a stare from both of them. “I’ll do better, Gazza.” I held the younger man’s gaze until he nodded.
“Good. See that you do.”
Mads threw his hands in the air. “Right here, guys. And Gazza, I can fight my own battles, you know. I don’t need your help.”
Gazza’s cheeks turned a deep reddish brown and he nodded. “Sorry.” But when he turned back to me, all trace of that apology evaporated in a single narrow-eyed glare that said,Watch yourself.
I’d been warned.I was half-pissed at the impertinence and half-satisfied that Gazza had Mads’ back in that way. I’d never had a friend do that for me. Then again, I’d never had a real friend at all, not in the way most people thought about them. I’d never let anyone get that close except for Davis... and Mads. I guessed I’d have to add Samuel and Gazza to that mix. The thought was less terrifying than I expected.
Mads was watching me with a small smile in place that told me he’d likely read my mind. I got to my feet and circled the coffee table to kiss him soundly on the lips, not giving a shit that Gazza was right there. Or maybebecauseGazza was right there. Was I making a statement to both men? Maybe. All I knew was that it felt right.
When I was done, Mads grinned almost shyly. “What was that for?”
I smiled and kissed him again. “Because I wanted to. Because you’re irresistible.”
He flushed a deep pink and stammered, “Now, you’re just being ridiculous.”
I kissed him again. “Are you complaining?”
He shook his head and grabbed my arm. “Stay.”
He scooted across to make more room on the sofa and I settled alongside him, our thighs touching.
Gazza studied us with a pleased smile. “So, when do we leave for Melbourne?”
Mads and I exchanged a look. “We were thinking Monday?”
Gazza blinked. “But that’s only three days.”
Mads nodded. “We’re worried what might happen to Lee if we wait any longer.”
Gazza considered this. “It’s pretty certain Freddie will know what both of you look like, but maybe less so me. Still, even if he does, I might have a solution, or at least an idea that might help.”
“Oh really? Do tell.” I failed to keep the scepticism out of my tone and was rewarded with Mads’ elbow to my ribs. “Ouch! I was only asking.”
Gazza shot me a dirty look. “Oh, ye of little faith. But since you asked, I have a little story to tell.”
I rolled my eyes and got comfortable. But by the time Gazza finished I had to admit it wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard. And considering we didn’t have many to choose from—read:any—it had definite potential.
Gazza explained he had a friend—a makeup artist and hairdresser—who worked in the film industry and who’d done amazing things with Gazza in the past, transforming him for Pride events and other dress-up occasions. “Not even you two would recognise me,” he’d boasted.
I needed a lot more convincing than just his word because Gazza was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen with the kind of face you didn’t forget in a hurry. But Gazza kept insisting. He was certain that if Mike came through, then he’d be able to walk right up to Marty’s door and the man wouldn’t suspect a thing. He’d never met any of them in person, after all.
We weren’t sure if that applied to Freddie. There was a chance he’d seen Mads in person on the boat, and we’d have to assume he’d seen me in person at some stage in the previous two years, but Gazza was an unknown. And if Mike did a good enough job on transforming him, Gazza was convinced he could get away with it.
“And you think he’ll be happy to help?” I asked.
“Mike will do it in a heartbeat... for me,” Gazza added somewhat coyly.
I raised a brow. “You two have history?”
Gazza hesitated just long enough to pique my interest. “You might say that.” He quickly added, “but in a good way, I promise.”
