Page 44 of Valor on the Move
Chris took another drink. “But really, who among us doesn’t need some liquid courage to get through this party?” He sighed. “We’d better stop that kind of talk. We don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“You’re right,” Rafa agreed. “But sometimes it’s just so…”
“Motherfucking exhausting to live in a fishbowl?” Adriana drained her glass. “I’d better hit the can.” Her beaded green dress swaying, she strode off, her tuxedoed agents following discreetly. Adriana had barely topped five feet, but with her stilettos and swagger she was bigger than life.
Rafa and Chris could only laugh. Rafa knew part of the reason Adriana had started swearing like a sailor was to bother their mother, and he wondered if she’d ever outgrow it. She had an amazing capacity to smile sweetly for the public while hiding her true feelings. He supposed they were more alike than he’d thought.
He and Chris plucked fresh champagne flutes from the tray of a passing waiter, and Chris shook his head. “I keep forgetting you’re old enough to drink now. Do you like it? Have you ever even tried a beer at college?”
Rafa sipped the fizz. “I like it okay. Ash got me drunk on my birthday. It was fun. The hangover not so much, but what can you do?”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it, baby brother. You’re way overdue for fun. Matty would guzzle every drink I’d slip him, but never you.”
Rafa chuckled. “Remember after the second inauguration when he yacked in a ficus pot? Yeah, I wasn’t too eager to follow his lead.”
“How could I forget? Our details totally covered for him and cleaned up the mess. They do not pay those people enough to deal with all our shit. Not that they get any trouble from you.” He looked to the side of the room. “Adriana’s right—they are hot.”
The champagne almost squirted out Rafa’s nose as he coughed and choked. He smiled tightly as a few people looked his way, waiting until their attention was elsewhere to ask, “What?” in as casual a tone as he could muster. My ears must be clogged. Or broken.
“Your new agents. Especially the one with the muscles and steely gaze?”
Cheeks flaming, Rafa tried to keep his voice steady. He gripped his glass to keep his hand from shaking. “Why would you say that?”
Chris tilted his head, sighing. He glanced around before speaking softly. “Come on.”
Rafa was suddenly putting one foot in front of the other, ordering himself not to run as buzzing filled his head. He made it out of the East Room, but of course the hall was clogged with guests. The stairs were too hard to reach, so he veered left into the Blue Room. Chris called his name as he shoved up the window at the south end of the oval and yanked the short double doors inward. Not many people knew about this secret door to the portico, but he hadn’t spent seven and a half years in the White House for nothing.
As he raced down the stairs to the South Lawn, Chris caught his arm.
“Raf, wait. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Rafa jerked his arm free. At the top of the stairs, Shane, Alan, and Chris’s agents appeared. “I just need some fresh air,” Rafa announced loudly. “I’m fine.”
Of course Chris followed him to the lawn. Despite the heatwave, the grass was lush beneath his dress shoes, and Rafa wondered when the sprinklers would come on. He hoped it was any minute now, because an untimely soaking would be an excellent excuse to escape to his room.
“Raf, would you stop and talk to me?”
Exhaling sharply, Rafa spun around. “Fine. But there’s nothing to talk about.”
Chris raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?” He kept his voice quiet, even though their agents were well out of earshot at the top of the portico stairs by one of the thick white columns.
“Of course I am. Why would you even say that stuff in the first place?” His heart thumped, and he was sure Chris could hear it.
Gazing at him with unmistakable sadness, Chris shook his head. “I didn’t want to upset you. I shouldn’t have said anything—at least not in there. Not tonight. It just came out, I guess. Excuse the pun.”
Rafa’s mouth was bone dry, and he couldn’t seem to find any words. How does he know? He can’t know. No one does. Right?
“I’ve wanted to say something for a long time. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid. That I love you and accept you the way you are.”
“I have a girlfriend,” Rafa blurted hoarsely.
“I know. And I’m not saying you don’t love her or care about her.”
“Then what are you saying? Why are you saying any of this?” His palms were clammy, and his skin prickled all over.
Chris rubbed his face. “I’m doing this all wrong.” He inhaled deeply and blew it out. “Okay.” He met Rafa’s gaze steadily. “What I’m saying is that I think you’re gay. I’ve thought that for a long time.”
