Outsider (25 page)

Reagan
was avoiding the inevitable. Trey hadn’t spoken to her all evening. If their
eyes happened to meet, he immediately looked away. She could feel an argument
simmering—a big one—and since a funeral visitation wasn’t the place for it to
boil over, she chatted with acquaintances, offered her condolences to the
deceased’s family, and didn’t feel too conspicuous when dabbing away the
occasional tear with her soggy tissue. Ethan was avoiding her for different
reasons—too many inquisitive eyes on them at all times—but she could feel his
presence, and his concern, from across the room.

When
she couldn’t stand the tension any longer, she used the genuine headache
pounding between her temples as an excuse to make an early exit.

“I
have some Tylenol in my purse,” Jessica offered kindly from where she sat
beside an ashen-faced Sed with a comforting hand on his lower back.

“Don’t
trouble yourself,” Reagan said. “I’ve burdened everyone enough already today
with my entourage of paparazzi.” She rolled her eyes.

Sed
shook his head, his terse expression softening into a smile. “I enjoyed telling
them to fuck off.”

“And
you did a very good job getting them to do it.”

“Not
really,” Sed replied. “Do you see that woman over there introducing herself as
my cousin Martha?”

Reagan
recognized the black-haired reporter from earlier, except now she was wearing a
hat and wide white-rimmed sunglasses. Reagan’s jaw dropped at the woman’s
audacity.

“I
don’t have a cousin named Martha.”

“That’s
the reporter from earlier. The one who asked if I use what’s between my legs—”
Realizing that her voice had risen by several inappropriate decibels, Reagan
slapped a hand over her mouth to control her tirade. She took a deep, calming
breath and said, “I better go. I’m sure
cousin
Martha will follow me
out.”

“They’re
so hurtful,” Jessica said glumly, probably thinking of her own embarrassing stint
in the spotlight when she and Sed had been filmed having sex in a Las Vegas
tourist spot. “And prying.”

“I
hope they hurry up and find someone more interesting to pester.” Reagan winced
as her building headache produced a blinding throb. She massaged one temple
with her fingertips, providing only limited relief from the pain.

“You
look like you need to lie down,” Jessica said. “We appreciate your stopping in,
but don’t feel bad for leaving.”

“If
you need anything . . .”

Sed
nodded in appreciation and turned his attention to Steve Aimes, who’d just
arrived. Cousin Martha’s gaze shifted to Steve, and then the reporter inexplicably
slipped out of the room. Well, hell, if all it took was one glance at Steve to
get these people to leave her alone, Reagan would be cozying up to the drummer
on a regular basis. She’d heard that he’d had a few run-ins with the paparazzi,
but she hadn’t known they were actually afraid of him. She’d already said her
goodbyes, however, so after a quick greeting to her new paparazzi-repelling
hero, she went in search of her ride. She found Ethan leaning against a wall, arms
crossed, and looking all sorts of surly.

“I
have a headache,” Reagan told him. “Will you take me home? Or are you going to
catch a ride with Trey? I think I can drive myself if you give me your keys.”

“I’ll
drive you,” Ethan said. “I don’t think Trey is ready to leave yet.”

She
spotted Trey sitting shoulder to shoulder with Sed. Trey said something that
made Sed smile—an expression she hadn’t seen from Sed since she’d arrived. Now
that Reagan thought about it, Trey had been at Sed’s side every moment
except
when she’d been with Sed. Trey wasn’t very subtle about letting her know he
wasn’t interested in talking to her. She didn’t want to cause a scene by
confronting him here, so she blinked back a few more tears and started toward
the exit. What she really wanted to do was collapse against Ethan’s chest and
sob out her agony, but she couldn’t do that. Not with all the prying eyes
around her.

“I
think he just needs time,” Ethan said quietly to Reagan’s back.

She
smiled at a gaping stranger when their gazes connected and then clenched her
teeth when the same woman whispered to the woman next to her behind a
concealing hand. Now Reagan had two strangers staring at her as if they’d been
thoroughly scandalized. If she’d been anywhere but a mortuary, she might have
marched across the room and told them both off. Instead, she swallowed her
anger and pride and a heap of hurt and simply pushed the door open to go
outside. Seeing the reporters standing just outside the fence with their camera
lenses poking between the iron bars as they waited for her to do something photo-worthy
made her stumble over her feet. Ethan placed a hand on her back to steady her,
and she flinched away from his touch. Even the slightest attention from him
made her wonder how she’d be portrayed in the media.

Fuck,
she hated this.

She
was acutely aware of the lack of pictures being taken as she walked woodenly to
Ethan’s car and even more aware of the flurry of shots as he opened the car
door for her and assisted her inside. Her head had been pounding before, but
now it felt as if someone were trying to remove her brain through her hair
follicles, and her stomach churned in protest of the pain and the anxiety
tightening her muscles into knots. She curled forward, her arms wrapped
securely around her belly, and took deep breaths to stave back her nausea. If
she puked for the cameras, they’d probably insist she was pregnant with Ethan’s
love child. Or maybe they’d twist the false tale into her being the future
mother of non-identical sextuplets, each with a different father or something
equally ridiculous.

Ethan
climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. “Are you okay?” he asked,
laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Terror
poured ice into her veins, and she slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Reagan?”

She
cringed at the hurt in his voice. Trey had already wounded him; he didn’t need
her adding salt to his wounds, even if the salt came from her own tears.

“I’m
sorry. Just . . . I want to get out of here. Please.”

“It’s
okay. I’ll take you home.”

“No.”
She shook her head, tightening her arms around her stomach as bile rose up her
throat. “They’ll be there too,” she whispered.

“Where
should we go, then?”

“A
place where no one knows who I am. A place where I feel safe.” She wasn’t sure such
a place existed, but Ethan must, because he backed out of his parking space and
drove away from the mortuary without another word.

After
several blocks, Reagan asked, “Are they following us?”

Ethan
glanced in his rearview mirror. “Yes.”

“Why
won’t they leave us alone?”

“You
know why,” Ethan said. “Maybe Trey is right. Maybe we should just come out with
the truth. At least all this bullshit will be for something we believe in. I’m
sick of seeing you suffer over lies.”

Reagan’s
cellphone began to ring. She scrambled to pull it from her purse, hoping it was
Trey. They needed to talk and come up with a game plan that suited them all.
This—whatever it was that they were doing—wasn’t working.

She
glanced at her display, and immediately her churning stomach dropped into her
shoes.

“Aren’t
you going to answer that?” Ethan asked.

Reagan’s
first instinct was to not answer, but maybe hearing his voice—even if it was
the condescending tone he used when she disappointed him—would bring her a
little peace. He couldn’t possibly make her feel any worse. He was home. He was
safe. Maybe he was exactly what she needed.

“Hi,
Daddy,” she said, surprised at how normal her voice sounded.

“You’d
better hightail your ass back to Arkansas right now, young lady. I knew I
should have had your legs sewn together before you left.”

Or
maybe he was exactly what she
didn’t
need.

She’d
underestimated her father’s influence over her mood. He
could
make her
feel worse. And
she
could hang up on him. After ending the call with a
shaky finger, she blocked his number, shoved her phone back into her purse, and
stared at her trembling hands.

“Did
he tell you that you’re just like your home-wrecking bitch of a mother again?”
Ethan asked, his voice terse with anger.

“I
hung up on him before he could get that far.” But her father knew that she was
involved with two men. He couldn’t have the details right, but he
knew.

Reagan
had never been more mortified.

Trey
stuck it out with Sed until the last guest had left, partly because he felt obligated
to be there for Sed and partly because he didn’t want to go home. An
altercation was waiting for him there, and he hadn’t yet decided if he was
going to stick to his guns or back down and wait for his pair of reluctant
lovers to open their reality to the outside world. Trey understood why Reagan
wanted to keep the truth about their relationship a secret. He even understood
why Ethan wanted to hide his sexuality. What concerned Trey was that neither of
them were willing to go to bat for this relationship—for
him
—and if he
felt this miserable about it now, how would he feel after weeks of secrecy?
Months of hiding who they were? He was sick just thinking about it.

Trey
typically went with the flow; he didn’t like to churn up controversy. His goal wasn’t
to be different. He just was. He’d accepted his personality and his quirks long
ago. With the exception of his fixation with Brian, Trey moved past life’s
stumbling blocks easily, but when his heart was involved—his whole heart—he
couldn’t walk away. He’d given his heart to two people, and he would not let go
of them. He was prepared to fight for Ethan and Reagan, but without a united
front, the three of them would be destroyed by the bigots of the world. In his
opinion, they needed to stand together. And while Reagan and Ethan seemed to
have formed an alliance of secrecy, Trey was on an entirely different page and
he knew nothing would change his mind about what needed to be done. He didn’t
want his happiness to end so quickly after he’d found it, but he had to admit
that he wasn’t happy. He could be happy again. They all could be happy again. He
just didn’t know how to get back the glorious euphoria that they’d experienced
together before the tabloids insisted that Reagan was cheating on him with
Ethan and that Trey was supposed to be devastated by that false revelation.

“Why
are you still hanging around here?” Sed asked. “Go home and sleep. The funeral
is early tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

“I
think that’s what I’m supposed to say to you,” Trey said, but he made no move
to rise from the folding chair he’d parked his butt in while Sed said goodnight
to his mother and sisters. Even Jessica had been convinced to go home, as the
stress of the day had exhausted her so much, she’d been nodding off against
Sed’s shoulder.

“I
can tell you want to talk.” Sed sat in the chair beside him, rested his
forearms on his thighs, and linked his fingers. “So talk.”

“I
shouldn’t burden you with my stupid problems right now.”

The
corner of Sed’s mouth twitched in a hint of a grin. “But you’re going to
anyway.”

Trey
chuckled. Sed knew him all too well. Trey always went to Dare first—mostly for
validation since they usually had the same opinions about issues—and Sed
second, for a different perspective. Sed would shoot straight with him. Trey
used to go to Brian with his problems, but his comfort level with his best
friend had diminished since he’d confessed his love to him and been made to see
what a fool he’d been.

“I’m
not sure how to handle this situation with the tabloids. I think we should just
tell it like it is. Don’t you think that would be for the best?”

Sed
scratched behind his ear. “That depends.”

“On
what?”

“On
what your partners think.”

Trey
hadn’t been expecting Sed to side with them. Maybe Trey should just stick to
seeking Dare’s advice after all. “They’re afraid of what people will think or
what they’ll say.”

“Most
people would be afraid.” Sed slapped him on the back. “You’re a bit of an
oddity in that regard. And they’re probably more afraid of what people will do.
People can be quite cruel to those they perceive as different.”

“Homosexuality
has become accepted by most of society.” Trey shrugged. “It’s not that big a
deal anymore.”

“You’re
not talking about homosexuality, you’re talking about bisexuality. You’re
talking about polyamory. These practices still aren’t considered normal. People
won’t understand.”

“We
can make them understand. What Reagan, Ethan, and I have together is beautiful.
It’s perfect.” Perfect when they weren’t at odds with one another.

“It’s
also strange. How can you love two people with all your heart at the same time?
If you give your all to one, there’s nothing left for the other.”

Trey
shook his head. “That’s not how it works.”

“I
see you with them every day, Trey, and it still doesn’t make sense to me. Do
you really think you’re going to convince a bunch of strangers that your
relationship is ideal?”

“I
don’t get why it’s so hard to believe that I can love two people with all that
I am. What if you have two kids or six? Do you divide your love for them into
sections, or do you love each of your children with all your heart?”

“That’s
different.” Sed shook his head.

Trey
released an exasperated breath. If he couldn’t get Sed to understand, how could
he ever expect the tabloids to get it right? They’d likely confuse his perfect
relationship into an even bigger scandal.

“So
you think we should keep everything a secret until the media storm blows over?”
Trey asked.

“I
don’t think you want to be the poster child on this issue. It might sound
heroic and you might think stepping up and out will solve your problems, but being
in the spotlight will be hell—hard on you, hard on your relationship, hard on
everyone who supports you.”

Sed
was telling him to back down. If Sed didn’t think Trey could handle the
pressure, he was probably right.

“Now,
if Reagan and Ethan are willing to support you through this, you’d probably be
okay. But I don’t see them waving their freak flags any time soon.”

“So
I probably shouldn’t wave mine with such enthusiasm,” Trey said flatly.

“That’s
up to you, but I don’t think it will bring the happiness and relief you expect.
Relationships are about compromise, and with three people in a relationship . . .”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not sure if there’s enough compromise
in the world to see you through.” Sed’s phone dinged with a text message, and
he dug the phone out of his pocket. He smiled at the display as he read. “Jess
is worried about me.”

Of
course she was. Trey was being selfish asking Sed for advice at a time like
this. Plus, as sound as that advice was, it just didn’t sit well with Trey. It
did make him think, though, which was important when he’d been so focused on
taking action. If he took the step he wanted to take, they’d never be able to
return to where they were now.

Trey
patted Sed’s back. “You’d better go home before she sends out a search party.”

“If
you need me to stick around—”

“Nope.
I’m going too. Sorry I laid this on you right now. I know you have more
important things to worry about than my love life.”

“I
don’t mind.” Sed climbed to his feet. “Gave me something to think about besides
everything my father will miss and all that my future kids have lost before
they’re even born.”

Trey’s
heart ached for Sed. “They’ll get to know him through you.”

“It’s
not the same.”

Trey
followed Sed to the exit, trying to come up with the right words to say.
Nothing felt right, so he ended up saying nothing.

“I’ll
see you tomorrow,” Trey said.

“If
you ever need a place to crash . . .”

Trey
blew out his cheeks. It seemed Sed didn’t have much confidence in his ability
to keep his relationship together. Or maybe he was just being nice. Sometimes
Trey overthought things. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”

By
the time he reached Reagan and Ethan’s apartment, he was convinced that they’d
make everything work out. If he had to compromise, then he’d compromise. He’d
push, but he’d compromise. He could do that. And when they were ready—
if
they were ever ready—they’d announce their relationship to the world together.
Strength in unity and all that jazz.

His
confidence faltered when he noticed Ethan’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, and
it crumbled at the lack of light glowing in the windows. They weren’t home.
They’d taken off from the wake without a word to him and then disappeared
together. So much for unity.

Trey
had a moment of panic when he discovered his phone wasn’t in his pocket before
he remembered he’d tossed it into the glove box hours earlier. The battery was
completely drained, so he plugged it into his car’s USB jack and waited for it
to collect enough charge to boot up. While he sat there, he noticed movement
behind his car. He didn’t have enough time to register what was going on before
a bright flash of light went off just outside his window, blinding him. He
blinked to clear his vision, glad he’d been delayed in the car for a few
minutes. No telling what they’d print about how he’d showed up at Reagan’s
apartment that night only to find she was out cheating with her bodyguard lover
again
. He kind of hoped she was. After the three of them set things
straight between them, Trey was very much looking forward to some rigorous
make-up sex.

His
phone finally came on, and he searched through his messages, looking for
anything from either Reagan or Ethan. He paused when he came to a new voicemail
from Brian, but after a second of hesitation, he flicked past it until he found
what he was hoping for.

The
message was from Ethan. He played it, putting the phone to his ear instead of
playing it over his speakers so that the photographers still skulking around
his car wouldn’t overhear.

“It’s
E. Reagan said I shouldn’t bother calling you because you’re behaving like an
ass, but she’s just upset. She’s in Brian’s bed sleeping off a migraine. I’m
sure she’ll see things differently when she wakes.”

Brian’s
bed? What the hell?

“Sorry
we barged into your apartment without an invitation.”

They’d
gone to his place—the two-bedroom apartment he’d shared with Brian until his
long-time roommate found a wife and fathered a child. Trey found it impossible
to stay there by himself without falling into a deep depression, so he didn’t
go often. It made sense that Ethan and Reagan would seek shelter in the place.
It was a gated community, and the security team was good about keeping unwanted
visitors from entering the premises. He was glad he’d added Reagan and Ethan to
his occupancy list and given them Brian’s unwanted set of keys and his card to
the parking gate.

“We
tried shaking the paparazzi, but gave up and went into hiding.” Ethan was quiet
for a moment before he added, “We need to talk. If there’s any way we can make
this work . . .” He released a raspy sigh. “I love you. Even if
no one else in the world ever sees it, you need to see it. You need to believe
it. So please, Trey, come home. We can talk. Or you can talk and I can just
hold you.” Ethan chuckled. “This is the longest phone message I’ve ever left,
so you must mean a lot to me. I’m trying to be more like you. More open and free
to be myself. But it’s going to take time and patience on your part. I hope you
think I’m worth the effort.”

“You
are,” Trey said, even though Ethan couldn’t hear his words. Trey had been so
drawn in by what Ethan was saying that he’d forgotten he was listening to a
recorded message.

“I’ll
see you soon,” Ethan said. “Don’t make me stalk you. I’ll do it.”

Trey
laughed. Ethan knew how much he hated being pursued by discarded lovers. But
he’d never give up Ethan voluntarily. And if that meant they had to keep their
love a secret for the rest of their lives, Trey would do his best to restrain
his affection for the man when in public. He’d just have to save his devotion
for when they were alone. Which is where Trey wanted to be more than anything—alone
with Ethan and Reagan.

Trey
shifted into reverse, almost striking the photographer standing behind his car.
He ignored the angry swearing thrown in his direction, ignored the headlights
in his rearview mirror as he navigated the near-deserted streets, ignored a red
light to get the paparazzi off his ass. Surprised that his illegal and
potentially dangerous maneuver had worked, he turned down a residential street
and took a less-traveled route to his apartment. Proud and relieved that he’d
managed to lose the journalists, he groaned aloud when he noticed several suspicious
vans parked outside the entrance to his community. He was surprised when
photographers didn’t jump out of the vans and start snapping pictures of him when
he slipped his access card into the reader at the gate entrance. Were they
sleeping on the job or looking to harass only Reagan?