Immoral by Nicole Dykes
“I can’t believeyou’re really doing this, Ryan. How can you leave your fans behind? Your home?”
“Mom, they didn’t want to pay for me to stay. It’s a business decision.”
My mother waves me off, extremely irate on the dreaded video call I knew I’d receive. The news broke pretty damn fast that Bennett and I are done with Kansas City and will start the new season out on the West Coast. So I knew it was only a matter of time before I received the call from my parents.
And yet, I don’t feel as ashamed as I thought I would. I don’t feel the need to explain much to them. I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve been on my own for years, and I just signed a major, record-breaking contract.
Not to mention, I have the man of my dreams in the master bathroom who’s singing in the shower at the moment. He flew in yesterday for the first night of his Kansas City engagement, and after the concert, we came back to my house and spent our time catching up. In bed.
We even managed to talk a little.
My father is sitting next to my mom, but he hasn’t said much. I knew he wouldn’t be happy with this news. “You need to have some loyalty, Ryan. Is this about your dating life?”
I wince. She did not just imply that I want to go to LA because I’m gay. “I’m happy, Mom. And I’m already dating someone from here.”
She looks slightly pale and opens her mouth to say something but then doesn’t. Good. I don’t want to hear her lecture me about how I haven’t found the right woman. “You’re leaving home.”
“I left home seven years ago.”
She waves me off. “You know what I mean. You’re killing your father.”
I look at my dad, who’s stayed quiet throughout the entire conversation. “Then he can tell me that himself, but still . . .” I lessen the bite in my tone. “It wouldn’t change anything. I’m happy. For the first time in a long time, I’m happy. I have everything I want.”
I hear the shower turn off and Grady saunters in with a towel around his waist, walking to his duffle bag across the room.
“I gotta go. Love you guys.”
I barely let them say their goodbyes before I hang up and walk to Grady, untying the knot around his waist as he finds his jeans, picking them up. “You okay?”
I nod absently, my front against his back, and kiss the top of his spine. His skin is warm and still moist from the shower. “My parents are having a hard time with my move.”
I pull the towel away and let my fingers slide over his taut abs. “And are you?”
“Oh, I’m hard.” I press my growing erection against his naked ass. I’m in sweats, but not for long.
He chuckles and turns to face me. “You really okay?”
“You having second thoughts?”
He shakes his head immediately, never letting any doubt creep in. “Never.” His fingers move through my hair. “I’m so fucking sorry, Ry.”
I’m taken aback, my heart speeding up while I try to figure out what he’s talking about. “About what?”
“I should have come after you years ago.”
I wave him off, moving back to my bed and sitting on the edge. “I’m sorry I ran.”
“I could have found you.” I guess we aren’t playing at the moment. He tugs his jeans on, sans briefs, and sits down next to me. “I should have found you. Instead, I let us walk around numbly for seven years without each other.” He waves his arms around my bedroom. “We could have had this for seven years.”
I shake my head. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“The what-ifs. They’ll fucking kill us. I was a chickenshit and ran. You were a chickenshit and let me stay gone. But maybe we wouldn’t have all this . . .” I mimic his previous gesture, “if we hadn’t done that.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Fine.” I pull him to me, my hand on the back of his neck. “We’re both sorry motherfuckers. But I love you. And all that matters now is that I’m never letting you go.”
“Good.” He kisses me.
“Let’s go get some coffee.”
His eyebrow arches. “Coffee?”
“Yup. It’s fucking cold outside, but the coffee is worth it.”
He stands up, finding a shirt and tugging it on while I grab my tennis shoes. “You think Justin will be there?”
I roll my eyes as we walk downstairs to grab our coats. “Be nice.”
He doesn’t agree, of course, and when we arrive at the coffee shop, mischief is written all over his beautiful face. This was probably a bad idea. And not because I’m worried about the photographers that are somehow already here when we walk inside.
No, it’s because for a moment, I forgot that Grady is one seriously jealous man. Not gonna lie, I don’t hate it. We walk up to the counter, and his eyes are locked on me just as Justin approaches with a happy grin. “Ryan Bailey! You’re here.” Pouting playfully, he adds, “But I heard you’re leaving us.”
Grady wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him tightly. I know if I shoved him away right now, he wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t do that. Instead, I lean in. “I am.”
Justin’s eyes track our close proximity, but he says nothing. “Your usual?” I nod, and he looks to Grady. “And what can I get you?”
“Well,” he drawls. Oh boy. “You know I recently tried new things and found I love it. So, I’ll take that sugary drink you made last time. Nothing wrong with experimenting, Justin. But there’s nothing wrong with sticking to what you love either.”
A smile plays on my lips as well as Justin’s as he nods and gets to work. I lean into Grady’s ear. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your idiot.” He doesn’t whisper it, and I don’t tense up at the possibility of anyone hearing.
Rumors are going to spread fast, and most of them will be true.
But not one part of me can find it in myself to give a fuck.
He’s my idiot alright.
