You Are the Reason by Renae Kaye

Author:Renae Kaye [Kaye, Renae]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-07-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

AFTER THAT night, Lee began testing my boundaries. At first I was uncomfortable, but I got used to it.

The first bit was a touch of makeup that he wore on our third date. As promised, I took him to a live performance. It was a musical reproduction of Grease—but with a tweak to make it a gay version with an all-male cast.

I went to pick him up and was chatting with Howard about production problems of post-manufacturing foreign designs when Lee appeared. Only fifteen minutes late. He was getting better.

He was also wearing a gorgeous shimmering blue shirt and black eyeliner.

He looked… gay.

I swallowed my discomfort and smiled bravely. I could do it. I could date a guy with eyeliner.

He was eyeing me really closely, so I don’t think I was able to hide all of my unease. Or perhaps he was testing me. I pushed down my inner resentment and told myself to grow up. I grabbed his arm and placed a kiss on his cheek to show him that I was in it. Despite my embarrassment at being seen with one of those gays.

It was my first time going to any sort of gay pride gathering. Night clubs and bars weren’t counted—because they’re simply hookup joints. A place to find someone to get your rocks off. A gay musical, on the other hand, would attract all sorts of gay people—and the flamboyant ones would be out in force.

I was right.

The first person I spotted at the door of the theater had rainbow stripes through his hair. I clenched my jaw and set my face in stone. We walked toward the place, and I could see them out in numbers. Pink hair. Earrings. High-heel boots. Pants so tight they were cutting off the circulation. Shirts cut so low you could nearly see their belly buttons.

Lee groped for my hand, and I pulled away in horror. PDA? Here? “Chicken,” he whispered to me. Thankfully he didn’t press the point. We walked farther into the crowd, and I began to notice other things.

The normal looking people. And to my surprise, there were a lot of them. There were mums and teenagers. Business suits and pencil pushers. Flamboyant gays, but also flamboyant straight people. And none of them gave me a single look. None of them cared a bit. None of them pointed or stared or even whispered behind their hands at the fact that I was with Lee.

Oh. Except for the older, limp-wristed, martini-drinking guy who stopped and looked me up and down as if I were naked and on display. “Oh, hel-looo darling,” he cooed at me with a smile that was supposed to be seductive but looked predatory.

Lee stepped between us and bared his metaphorical claws. “Mine,” he declared and wrapped his arm around my elbow. The man gave him a shrug of discontent and turned away without further comment.

I was so glad for the cockblock that I allowed Lee to stay where he was.

That’s what I told myself, anyway.

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