“Sure? Really? What if I damage it?”
“Mon chou, you drive fast but very well. Maybe better than I do. And in any case, the car’s replaceable. I’ll be much more unhappy if you damage yourself.”
Rusty wasn’t sure what to do with that. Maybe another kiss. “Doyouwant to take the Porsche?”
“Yeah, I do. I haven’t ridden in one of my fun cars in months.”
“Okay then.” Rusty felt a grin stretch his lips and saw Cross grin in return.
“Okay.”
They had enough time before they had to leave to grab a snack of yogurt and granola and sit at the kitchen table, talking about everything except coming out and parents and kidnappings and… yeah, they talked about cars, mostly. But it was comfortable, a lull before the storm. Maybe an echo of times to come, sitting here having breakfast and shooting the shit, like any other couple.
Until it was time to face the music.
The drive to the hotel was fun, at least. Rusty kept his touch on the gas light and his following distances large, but the car was responsive and purred softly with the power under the hood. Cross smiled too, despite the mist dampening the windshield and the leaden clouds overhead. But once they arrived, Cross’s smile faded. He directed Rusty up to the main doors under the arched entry roof, and had him hand the key off to valet parking.
Cross was using a cane with his boot, and although he leaned on it heavily and crutches might’ve been smart, Rusty understood he didn’t want to seem weak in front of his dad. He realized he could offer his arm, because they had nothing leftto hide. “Hey, one benefit of Tyler’s big mouth.” He crooked his elbow at Cross.
Cross hesitated, then actually laughed. “You’re right. And side benefit, it’ll piss off Dad.” He slipped his hand through Rusty’s arm.
The guest card they picked up at the counter gave them access to the twenty-sixth floor. In the silent elevator, Rusty glowered at his reflection and tugged his jacket straight. Cross had refused to dictate Rusty’s clothes at all, but he’d gone with a game-day suit. One less thing for LaCroix to sneer at, although probably off-the-rack didn’t count as a suit in his books. And if they were talking to the press, Rusty wanted to look professional.
Cross knocked on the door of 2702, and it immediately swung open. “RJ!” The woman who launched herself at Cross was clearly his mother. Rusty had seen her in a few photos around the house, but he hadn’t realized how small she was. Cross caught her easily, dropping his cane to do so. Rusty caught the cane with one hand before it hit the floor and set his other palm on Cross’s back to steady him.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” She hugged Cross, then stepped back. “Oh dear, I forgot about your foot. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Forgot?Rusty reminded himself she wasn’t living in their house with the clomp of boot on floor a constant reminder. Maybe Cross hadn’t even told her how bad the injury was, how little chance he had to get back on the ice in a Rafters uniform. Perhaps she thought it was like all the other bangs and scars of Cross’s career.
“Come on in.” She retreated into the open, airy suite behind her. “And you must be Rusty. Can I call you Rusty?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s my name.” Rusty handed Cross his cane and followed him in. The door shut with the faintest click behind them.
“Call me Elise, please. Come in, sit down. We’ll have them send up breakfast right away.” Elise turned toward the windows. “Look, Pierre. RJ and his boyfriend are here.”
“I had noticed.” LaCroix sat in an armchair with a wall of windows behind him. The backlight made his expression hard to see. “How are you, RJ? Recovered from yesterday’s experiences?”
“I’m fine.” Cross’s glance at Rusty suggested he wanted something. When Rusty moved closer, he tucked his hand back in Rusty’s elbow.
LaCroix’s eyebrow quirked. “Amy informed me she’s coordinating security for a press event for you this morning. She would not explain why, no matter how I insisted, told me to ask you. It was most insubordinate of her.”
“It’s not her fault,” Rusty had to say. “You can’t fire her or anything.”
Elise laughed. “Pierre would never fire Amy. He’d sooner cut off his right hand. But it’s kind of you to be concerned.”
Rusty felt his face heat. Of course not. He had no clue what he was doing here.
“I’ll call down for breakfast.” Elise tapped the smartwatch on her wrist. “I didn’t know what you boys like to eat these days, so I got a bit of everything.”
“With eggs Benedict?” Cross asked.
“Of course, cheri, I haven’t forgotten that much.”
LaCroix cleared his throat. “So, RJ, are you going to tell me what the press conference is about? I suppose it’s too much to hope you’re being sensible and retiring before you do yourself permanent damage.”
Rusty squeezed Cross’s hand against his ribs with his elbow, hoping that felt like support. Because fuck that dude.
Cross said, “No, actually. I’m coming out as bisexual and in a relationship with Rusty.”
