From the Blurb:
Excerpt:
For years, I had watched Kent interact with other men. Every smile he gave someone. Every conversation where he appeared to be standing too close, or laughing too loud, or when he did that thing he sometimes did where he’d touch someone’s arm as he spoke to them. He never did that to me.
Did those things provide a signal? I had wondered. Did he date or find other ways to get his needs met? Random, anonymous ways that these days merely require an app on a cell phone? Or was there someone? Someone else so deep in the closet that Kent was willing to hide him from his best friend?
And then, one night, about a year ago, after a few too many drinks in the White House residence, we stumbled our way downstairs at Kent’s insistence, and I had all my answers.
“Let’s raid the kitchens!” he had proclaimed, a buzzed glint in his eye.
“There’s a kitchen up here, K.”
He thought for a moment. “Cheese!” he exclaimed. “You know that sharp cheese I dig.” It was his use of the word “dig” that clued me in to how drunk Kent was. It was not a word in his usual vernacular. Also, it was as if he was looking for an excuse for us to leave the third-floor residence. I, on the other hand, had always worked hard to maintain a certain presence, and I was not at all interested in roaming the White House after the amount we had had to drink.
“Come on, El. That sharp-ass cheese. I know you love it too. And I know you don’t have any up here because I finished it all last night.” I could never say no to him, in part because he was my best friend and I loved him and in part because of the heavy guilt I felt over a single conversation about skeletons, closets, and “skinny asses” that we had had a long time ago.
“Fine, cheese. Let’s go.” I did manage to sound exasperated in the hopes Kent would change his mind.
“And maybe one of those fancy bottles of wine.” I shook my head and followed my best friend out of the residence. The Secret Service did not enter the residence, but I knew it would be Secret Agent Vincent waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. I always knew when it was him.
In his drunken state, Kent actually began running to the stairs, and I trotted after him, wanting to slow him down and keep him safe, both from embarrassment and from injury on the stairs. We truly had let go and had had a good deal to drink. I reached to grab his arm and missed, running faster to catch him at the head of the stairs. I grabbed him from behind and squeezed a hand on either side of his waist. There was a beat there where neither of us moved. He couldn’t possibly remember it, but I was remembering a time when we had still been in school, and he had held me from behind in a similar fashion. Two stupid kids, roughhousing on the quad.
We were as far as one could be from stupid kids at that point, and I really did not want Kent drunkenly rambling down the stairs toward Special Agent Vincent. So we stood there for a beat, me holding him from behind. Leaning over his shoulder, I looked at my friend to ascertain if I could trust him not to take off down the stairs, and there it was. I could see it, unguarded on his face. He looked to the man at the foot of the stairs and so did I. He was looking at us sternly, clearly concerned over the ruckus we had caused clamoring down the hall. His eyes narrowed as he looked up at the two of us, but Kent’s look was one I had never seen on him before. It was obviously, painfully clear to me that Kent was lusting after someone from my personal protection detail. And not just any agent, Raymond fucking Vincent.
Election Night is available for purchase on Amazon and as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription.
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