Running For It by Allyson Lindt

Eight

As Ramsey drove and offered running commentary, Hunter went down the party list with me.

“It all looks good.” I handed the tablet back. “I’m struggling with the whole gala-overnight thing. Will this really work?”

Hunter huffed a laugh. “Of course. Think of the viral potential. You get a message that says Pop-up Party in Vegas, to Support LGBTQ+ Youth. You know that the biggest and best will be at the Luxor, and like Cinderella, it all turns back into a pumpkin at midnight. You want people to know you were there.”

Well, I didn’t care if people knew I was there—not for the reasons he meant—but I got the point. If word got out, if we drew a quarter of the expected donations, I could fix up the shelter. I didn’t know what I’d do with the kids while repairs were taking place, but I was working on that. I twisted in my seat, to look at Hunter. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Anything for Ramsey’s favorite lady.” His smile warmed me to my core, but something about his words made my brain stutter.

I couldn’t grasp the thought, so I let it go for now.

A short while later, we pulled into a strip-mall parking lot and picked a space in front of a local diner that specialized in ice cream. If you weren’t happy with that, they had burgers as well.

“Classy,” I teased. “Perfect.” The three of us came here all the time in college. Even though Hunter went to a different school, he was Ramsey’s roommate then, and hung out with us even outside the bedroom. I’d never minded, because he respected our alone time, and I liked Hunter.

The only other diners inside were a single family, who looked to be finishing up their meal. It was a Monday night in the middle of winter—not a lot of call for ice cream.

The waitress gave us a lingering glance and smirked when she arrived at our table. “Love the outfits.” She was sincere. “You know what you’re having?”

Same things we always had. Ice cream on a brownie for Ramsey—extra cherries on top. Two scoops of whatever caught my fancy in a waffle cone, and a banana split for Hunter.

As she left, a new thought occurred to me that I was surprised hadn’t before. “This is a formal affair tomorrow night? Or will I show up in my blue satin to everyone dressed in parachute pants and leg warmers, like it’s the 80’s?”

“That’s an oddly specific visual,” Hunter said. “And not at all what we planned. There’s still time to change things if you’d like.”

“Definitely not.” I didn’t have time to shop, but I had the formal wear on standby.

“Let me take care of the dress. Don’t pack anything but toiletries.”

I stared blankly at Ramsey, trying to convey, Do you even know me? with a gaze. “Like I’m not going to pack for any possibility. Is this so you can make sure I look appropriate?”

“You always look appropriate.” His assurance was smooth. “But I want to surprise you.”

I frowned. I hated surprises.

“I know. But this one will be good. I promise,” Ramsey said.

An awkward lull settled between us. It was worse because we’d never had trouble with conversation in the past. Even the silent moments always felt right. The family on the other side of the dining room left, giving us the entire place to ourselves. Our ice cream arrived, and we dug in, while I tried and failed to ignore the glances Hunter and Ramsey kept exchanging.

This was too much. “How’s the campaign going?”

They both looked surprised at the question.

“You really want to talk politics over ice cream?” Hunter asked.

There was no reason. I already had a good idea of what their politics were. “I’m looking for more of a how are you feeling about the race kind of vibe.”

“I’m set to win the primary.” Ramsey’s confidence was no surprise.

“Big plans for when you win the general election?” I was pushing him in a specific direction. He’d been groomed by his family for this path. Known for years that he’d do this. So we used to play a game that took things to the extreme.

“Equality.” Hunter ticked off one finger. “Prison reform. Schools.”

I didn’t want a list of public talking points. “This is me. You can give me the real dish. No matter how over the top it is.” I wanted more fantasy—the whatever his heart desires kind not the tie me up and fuck me kind. Though…

I shook the second notion away but couldn’t get rid of the rush of heat it brought with it. The point of this game was to pick anything, no matter how ridiculous. Comic-book-level stuff. Better.

“Ah.” Recognition flashed in Hunter’s eyes. He nudged Ramsey. “She wants to know how you’re going to Batman the place, Bruce Wayne.”

Ramsey rolled his eyes. “Don’t joke. You know how I feel about Batman.”

We did. “That Christian Bale was the pinnacle—”

Hunter joined in. “And no one else could ever reach that bar,” he said in unison with me. We finished with giggles.

“Don’t knock the Dark Knight.” Ramsey looked stoic. “He’s always watching. Knows when you’re sleeping. When you’re awake.”

Hunter looked like he was struggling to keep a straight face. “That’s Santa.”

“Who hurt you, that you can’t tell the two apart?” I asked with mock concern.

Ramsey stuck his tongue out. “You have to get a lot more naked if you want the illicit details of how I feel about pain.”

The heat was back, setting fire to my skin and lighting up my imagination. I had to get back to the fun conversation, so I could get rid of the phantom sensation of Ramsey’s palm—his belt, my hair brush—smacking into my ass.

I held my spoon toward Ramsey, using it like a microphone. “So, Councilman Miller, if—when—you’re elected, what are your plans for cleaning up crime in the city?”

“Giant robots.” There was no hesitation in his response.

I wasn’t at all surprised, and I knew where he was going with the answer, but that didn’t stop a giggle from slipping out. “As in Robocop? Terminator? You know Skynet destroyed humanity. While that’s technically a crime deterrent, I don’t think it’s what your constituents are looking for.”

“Vibrators and toasters are three percent of the voting population, and all voices deserve to be heard.” Hunter rambled off the fake statistic with complete seriousness.

Ramsey cleared his throat and adopted a serious look. “You’re not thinking big enough. Giant robots. As in, the Grandaddy Gundam, RX-78.”

I adored this side of them. The geeky, fanboy side that they didn’t show anyone. “Don’t mechs tend to destroy cities, Councilman?” I asked.

“Well, actually”—Hunter adopted his best I’m on the internet and an expert voice—“you’d find the damage was far worse if you let the monsters roam free. The mechs keep more of the city from being destroyed, even if they themselves are complicit in the destruction.”

I laughed and shook my head in disbelief. “Spoken like a true politician. I’m not sure the threats to Salt Lake are Neon Zeos.” I said the name wrong on purpose, with a lilt of teasing in my voice.

Ramsey clenched his jaw.

I stared at him, eyes wide and innocent. “Is something wrong, Councilman?”

“It’s Neo Zeongs. And you know that.”

Another laugh slipped out. Goddess, this was familiar and good in the best possible way, and I was way past wanting it not to. “Maybe.”

“You’re such a brat, Taffy.”

I shrugged in agreement. “What are you going to do? Bend me over your knee and spank me?”

“Aww.” Hunter pouted. “I want to be spanked.”

My brain slid to a halt.

Ramsey placed a finger under Hunter’s chin and raised his head to meet his gaze. “Of course. She hasn’t earned it. You just have to beg.”

Heat spilled through me, and I struggled to catch up. Not only was the exchange flat-out adorably sexy, it was also anything but friendly. Yesterday morning, ungodly early, replayed in my brain. Me, waking up, still hazy, to find Ramsey saying, I’ll talk to you in a few hours, and giving Hunter a goodbye kiss…

Fuck me.I was such a blind idiot. “You two are together.” The words came out louder than I intended. Ramsey glared at me and I clapped my hands over my mouth. A glance around us said no one was paying attention to the silly friends in the corner booth.

My heart dropped into my shoes. I was letting myself fall into a what if fantasy with Ramsey, and he was in a relationship. I was a side dish. Not even what Hunter had been to us in the past, because he was a friend. I was just the ex.

“You didn’t think to mention this—I don’t know—two days ago?” Before I climbed back into bed with them. Before I stood on the edge of the delusion rabbit hole and considered jumping in, headfirst?

They exchanged a look, and Ramsey gave a slight shake of his head.

Hunter turned back to me. “We don’t tell anyone, which you probably noticed.”

“You just made sure everyone saw you at one fundraiser helping kids like you, and you’re fast-laning another, and you feel like you have to hide who you are?” I wasn’t accusing them; I was genuinely curious.

Ramsey sighed. “There’s a difference between supporting a cause and being the cause. You know that. If I came out, the focus would be on my gayness—because you know I wouldn’t be bisexual to the media—and not what others needed.”

That was surprisingly altruistic and painfully realistic. “Imagine the kind of role model you’d be.”

“An amazing one,” Ramsey said. “But I’m not the only one I’m thinking about.” He looked at Hunter. “Maybe someday I’ll—we’ll—get there, but not yet. I’m a rich white boy, who’s played straight my entire life. Letting my money and other, more experienced individuals speak is more helpful.”

I wanted to argue that this was another version of his public face versus his private one, but I understood not outing people before they were ready. For all the acceptance out there, just as much bigotry still existed. And it was sweet that he was worried about Hunter in that way.

Hunter tugged one of my fingers, drawing my attention. “What happened after the party? We don’t make a habit of that.”

“God, no.” Ramsey shook his head.

Of course they didn’t. “Because it would look bad if it got out.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Because that’s not the lifestyle either of us wants. I don’t care if other people open their relationships, but I’m selfish with my guy.”

My guy. So much possession in the simple phrase. And my jealousy was skyrocketing. Then again, they hid what they had, and I’d always made it clear I wasn’t interested in being someone different in the bedroom than I was out of it. They hid their relationship so well, I felt bad for Hunter. I’d hated having to fake-smile when I was with Ramsey, and he had to fake-everything.

I shut off all my what happens next fantasies about Ramsey. “Thank you for the ice cream. It was fun hanging out again. See you tomorrow?”

“You’re taking this wrong.” Hunter settled a hand on my bare knee, startling me.

“What happened after the party wasn’t a mistake.” Ramsey tangled his fingers with mine. “It’s not what we planned, but there are no regrets. You’re not just a warm body.”

Hunter squeezed my knee. “You’re Violet.”

“I don’t know what that means.” But I wanted to, so desperately, just based on the pair of simple touches.