Chapter Three - Ev

A blast of warm air hit Ev as he jogged down the steps to the 28th Street platform. He hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. A woman in a knee-length puffer coat, stockings, and gym shoes was in front of him, gripping the oversized bag that probably held her stilettos in one hand and her cell phone in the other. At the bottom of the stairs, a group of tourists were blocking traffic. They pointed at their phones and spoke rapidly in a language Ev didn't recognize. He let the woman elbow her way past them, then took advantage of the opening she made.

The rumble of engines and blare of car horns faded as Ev left the street behind, but they were replaced by the graceful notes of a piano. Ev tugged the hood of his coat up, his feet slowing. It was one of those promotional installations where anyone could stop to play. A "play-NYC" hashtag was printed across the fallboard, placed so anyone videoing could see it.

The pianist was good. Ev bit his lower lip and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, clenching them until his fingers ached. He shouldn't. He had a train to catch. But as the older man at the keys finished and wandered off, Ev found himself sliding into place on the bench, his legs having moved without his permission. He ran his fingers along the keys, forming shapes from memory but not pressing down.

No one was paying any attention to him, their footsteps hurried as another blast of warm air from a passing train flooded the tunnel. With his hood up, he couldn't see more than the piano in front of him and two strips of white subway tiles in his peripheral. And more importantly, no one could see him. He licked his lips and let his fingers have their way.

Within seconds, he was swept up in the music, the tunnel and the rush of commuters disappearing. He should have chosen something mundane, if only to help him fade into the background, but he'd never been very good at that. Instead, he let his fingers dance over the keys in the rapid and recognizable theme song to one of his favorite movies, visions of oceans, black sails, and half-zombified pirates floating behind his closed eyes.

He grinned as the song swelled like a ship carrying him away on the high seas to become the world's most unlikely pirate. His parents would have been horrified at the stories in his head. If they'd only known. Ev shoved those thoughts aside and concentrated on the music, on enjoying this stolen moment in the tunnel. When he hit the last note, he startled at the applause. Crap. Well, what had he expected?

He slid off the bench and kept his head down as he sketched a bow. Luckily, now that the entertainment was over, people cleared out quickly. No one was going to stand around when they had somewhere else to be. Ev ducked into the flow and through the gate just as his train pulled into the station. He raced down to one of the cars at the end, far enough that no one who had seen him would be able to follow. He dropped into an empty seat and hugged his backpack to his chest, resting his forehead on it as he tried to slow his breathing and calm the electricity buzzing under his skin. It had probably been a mistake, but it had been worth it.

Still, he was going to walk to a different stop tomorrow, just to avoid the temptation. The last thing he needed was someone recognizing him.

"Get up. Get up. Get up."

"Go away, Ev."

Ev bounced harder on the end of Owen's bed, jostling the lump of blankets masquerading as his roommate. "Get up. I'm done letting you lie here and rot." He grabbed the blankets and pulled on them.

A growl came from the pile as Owen struggled to stay buried. "Fuck off."

Ev gave a last heave, then went staggering back when Owen lost his grip. "Hah!" he cried in triumph, doing a little dance as Owen shoved himself upright and glared.

Owen's hair was three days past bed-head, and his eyes were puffy-red from crying. "Why are you like this?" he whined as Ev held the blankets out of reach.

"Because I'm your friend," Ev said, dropping the blankets on the floor and planting his hands on his hips. "Now, get your butt up and get in the shower. You're starting to smell like my uncle's sweaty old socks."

Owen pulled a face, but he swung his legs out of bed and shoved a hand through his messy blond hair, wincing when it caught on the tangles. "You're ridiculous," he muttered into his palms as he scrubbed them over his face.

Ev heard him anyway. "What's your point?" He grabbed Owen by the wrists and pulled until he gave in and stood. "Look. I know you dated a while, but Scott was a dickwad. He doesn't deserve your energy." Ev paused. "Unless it's to plot revenge." He clapped his hands. "Ohh, can we plot revenge on Dickwad?"

"Don't call him that," Owen said, the protest weaker than the last ten times Ev had done it.

Ev wrinkled his nose. Owen was much too nice, even when it came to a guy who'd done…whatever it was Dickwad had done—Owen still wouldn't explain their fight. Ev pushed Owen toward the tiny bathroom tucked into the corner of their one-bedroom apartment. He wasn't lying when he said Owen needed a shower. He gave him a last shove, then smacked his ass for good measure, making him jump and yelp.

"Everett Bailey!" he snarled. "I'm gonna—"

"Full-name me?" Ev gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest and staggering back. "When I'm only trying to help?"

Owen just gave him a furious look that was weakened by his bed head, red eyes, and splotchy cheeks and slammed the bathroom door. A moment later, the shower came on with a clunk, the old pipes rattling in the wall as they fought to bring hot water from the basement to the sixth floor. Ev let out a relieved breath.

He hadn't known Owen all that long. Maybe six months. They'd met by chance on Exchange, and when Ev had decided to take the job in New York around the same time Owen was looking for a roommate, the rest was history. Well, recent history, but it seemed to be going well, barring Owen's breakup. At least getting over a shitty Daddy was something Ev had plenty of experience with. Though it was looking like Owen's version of getting over his ex was a little different from Ev's more vengeful recovery methods.

Ev took the half dozen steps across the living room and ducked through the curtain that separated their shared space from his "bedroom." He'd been a little worried about the setup at first, but with his bed lofted, he had plenty of room for his keyboard and dresser beneath it, and he'd found a tall cabinet to use as a closet. Owen was a quiet guy, so even when he worked late, Ev didn't have to worry about getting woken up. Plus, splitting a one-bedroom was a hell of a lot cheaper than the alternative.

Ev's skin was still buzzing from his accidental performance in the subway. It had been a long time—months—since he'd played a real piano, and he'd almost convinced himself to forget the slide of the ivory keys under his fingers, the vibrations of the notes flowing through him, and the adrenaline rush of an audience watching his every move. He ran his finger along the plastic keys of his old Yamaha. He missed performing, and he also didn't ever want to think about it again. It was fucked up and complicated—just like everything else involving his childhood. He sighed and shoved his glasses out of the way so he could rub his eyes. He needed a distraction.

He needed to not be a grown-up for a while.

The shower cut off. Finally. Ev hopped up and dashed into the kitchen, leaving his thoughts on the other side of the bedroom curtain. If they still had cheese, he could make grilled cheese sandwiches. One of the few meals involving the stove that he was decent at. He got out the ingredients. Ooh, they had ham too. Protein! Owen would be happy. He complained that Ev's diet needed to consist of more than just cheese and carbs. Ev didn't see the problem. Cheese and carbs were delicious, and they were at least half the boxes on the food pyramid. It wasn't like he only ate sugary stuff. He also loved bacon.

He set the heavy cast-iron skillet on the stove and turned on the heat, the gas whooshing to life and making him jump. He still wasn't used to that. His old place had had electric. With some butter sizzling in the pan, he started buttering the bread and slicing the cheese, already imagining the salty, ooey, gooey goodness. He bobbed his head, humming along to some bit of background music, leaving the assembled sandwiches so he could search the cabinet for chips. He was sure there was a bag somewhere. They hadn't finished them all yet.

"Ev," Owen said sharply.

Ev startled and banged his head on the cabinet door. "Oww," he whined, rubbing the bump as he climbed down off the counter, sadly without chips. "Why'd you scare me like that?" he asked.

Owen, with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his hips, ignored him. He was at the stove, turning down the heat. "I keep telling you, gas isn't like electric. You don't need to start it so soon or turn it up so high." He was wiping out the pan with a paper towel, and—huh—the butter was looking a little black. Oops?

Ev walked over and put his chin on Owen's damp shoulder, hugging him from behind as he deftly replaced the butter and added the sandwiches to the pan. "Sorry. I forgot."

Owen's shoulders heaved in a sigh. "It's fine. No harm done." Owen was a nice guy. And a much better cook than Ev.

"Do we have chips? Or apples? I love apples."

Owen huffed a laugh and reached up to ruffle Ev's hair, knocking it loose from its slicked-back style. "Yeah. I think. Can you watch this and not burn it while I put on clean clothes?"

Ev nodded and let him go, keeping a close eye on the sizzling bread. It was so slow this way but probably better than getting burned. Burned was only good on marshmallows and bacon. Ev loved some crispy, crispy bacon. He sighed and flicked his tongue against his labret stud. This weekend, he was going to put in the glass rainbow one. That was his favorite. He'd get Owen to dress up and come out with him. That would cheer him up. The best way to get over a shitty Daddy was to get under a new one—at least temporarily.

Owen came back dressed in PJ pants and his favorite baggy sweatshirt with the sleeves that fell over his hands. He pushed them up to his elbows and bumped Ev out of the way with his hip. "Go shower, and it'll be ready when you're done." He gave Ev an up-and-down glance, his mouth pinched. "You should get comfy. I barely recognize you when you"re dressed like that."

Owen wasn"t wrong. Ev never felt quite like himself in his professional get-up. And a shower sounded better than standing there waiting, so he did as he was told. The hot water released the last of the stress from his shoulders, and by the time he made it back to the living room, he was feeling a lot better. Owen had set them up on the coffee table and—chips! He'd found them! Ev hopped over the back of the sofa and landed on the cushion next to Owen, bouncing a little. He grabbed a couple chips and crammed them into his mouth. "Yesh!"

Owen shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. That was better. Owen was someone who always needed to smile. He was so sunshiny, and it just seemed wrong that anyone would make him sad.

"Thank you," Ev remembered to say after he swallowed a big bite of his grilled cheese. "Wanna watch a movie with me?" he asked. "You can pick."

Owen shrugged noncommittally but picked up the remote and found them a movie. Ev wasn't sure the rom-com about the British prince and the president's son was the right choice, but he managed to keep his mouth shut about it.

A few minutes into the movie Owen had curled in on himself, shivering, so Ev moved closer and snuggled up against his side. Owen shifted to accommodate him, and Ev grinned to himself. Snuggles made everything better. He pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa and tossed it over their legs. After some more shifting, he ended up in the corner of the sofa with Owen's head on his chest and their legs tangled together.

"This is nice," Owen said softly during a quiet part of the movie. "Thanks."

Ev gave him a squeeze. "Oh, man. You're in trouble now, 'cause I love cuddles. Finny says I'm clingier than an octopus, and it's been forever since I had a willing victim."

Owen snickered and hugged him back. "Well, sign me up. I'm swearing off dating, so I'll need someone to keep me from getting all touch-starved."

Ev frowned. That didn't sound good. The other night, he'd tried to press for what had happened with Scott, but Owen had teared up, shaken his head, and fled the room. Ev hadn't asked again, but it must have been bad. Ev bit his tongue and pressed a kiss to the top of Owen's head. "Well, I'm happy to provide. Just don't get the wrong idea," he said, keeping his tone light. "I'm on the hunt for a sexy, silver-fox Daddy. You're cute and all, but we would never work out."

Owen laughed. Finally. Ev gave a mental fist pump. "Don't worry. I'm swearing off men too. And Daddies. I only want you for your octopus arms." Owen paused. "That sounded kinkier than I meant it to."

Ev cackled and manhandled Owen so that they were stretched out on the sofa, Owen playing the little spoon. Then, he threw a leg over both of Owen's and squeezed him tight, a surge of protectiveness flooding him. Whatever the hell Dickwad had done to his friend, Ev was going to do his best to fix it.

"I realize you're very good at your job, but you don't know my daughter like I do. We need to be more aggressive than this."

Kelsey Monroe, one of Gabe's newest clients, rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored her mother. Her thumbs never paused in their rapid tapping on her phone. She hadn't looked up once during the meeting to discuss the publicity strategy Gabe was recommending. Ev was starting to get annoyed at the whole situation, and he had a feeling Gabe was in the same boat, though he was better at hiding it. Kelsey clearly didn't want to be there, and her mother had no interest in Gabe's expert opinion, despite the fact that she was paying him for it.

Ev was next to Kelsey on the sofa, taking notes and trying not to get distracted by the constant buzz of incoming notifications on her phone. He wasn't sure how she kept up. Maybe it was a girl thing.

Kelsey was an up-and-coming singer. She was a few years younger than Ev, with a pretty face and long, wavy blond hair. Her clothes were expensive in that understated way that the very rich often had. From what Ev understood, she'd released a few singles that hadn't gotten much traction, so her mother, who was in politics and used to getting her way, had hired DeCain PR to get Kelsey to the next level.

"I'm happy to take any suggestions you have into consideration," Gabe said with more patience than Ev would have in the situation. "Is there something specific you'd like me to look into?"

Mrs. Monroe tapped a manicured finger against her tablet. "She would be perfect for one of these singing shows," she said, holding it out to Gabe. "The public loves a child prodigy, and she's still young enough to pull it off."

Ev did his best not to react even as dread spread like ice through his veins. Fuck. Fuck. Now wasn't the time for past-Ev's bullshit. He fisted and released his hands, fighting to stay focused.

"You're new, right?" Kelsey asked suddenly. It took Ev a second to realize she was talking to him.

"Um. Yeah. I've been here a couple months. Why?"

Kelsey shrugged, still not looking away from her phone. "You look familiar. Would I know you from somewhere?"

Ev's stomach churned. Of all the questions, she'd picked the one he loathed. "I lived in Chicago before this," he hedged.

Kelsey turned away from her phone for the first time, only to give him a skeptical lifted eyebrow. "Yeah, that's not why I know you."

Ev sighed and shut his eyes for a moment, swallowing against the nausea climbing his throat. "Do you watch talent competitions?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Kelsey hummed and went back to her phone. Ev's tension was slowly leaving when she tilted the screen in his direction, revealing an old publicity shot of The Star's season eight contestants, with Ev front and center in his family-friendly polo shirt and khakis and his neatly styled hair. Ev groaned. "Fuck, I look so cringe."

Kelsey huffed a laugh, the first he'd heard from her. "Bet." Then, thankfully, she tucked the phone and the hated picture away. "So, how'd you end up here?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be off recording albums or on tour or something?"

Ev shrugged. "Been there, done that. Didn't want the T-shirt."

Kelsey pursed her lips in surprise. "You were good, though."

Ev needed a drink. Or several. That was the only time he felt comfortable talking about this shit. Still, he could make an effort for Kelsey, whose mom seemed determined to send her down the path Ev's parents once had. "Sure. And I loved performing, but being a public figure sucks. There's never any privacy, and you can't trust anyone not to take advantage, because everyone in the industry has an agenda."

Kelsey frowned thoughtfully. "I guess. But that's already my reality. When you have parents like mine, everyone wants to be your ‘friend,'" she said. Ev understood the air quotes she put around friend. He'd learned that lesson too.

"You're more prepared than I was then."

Kelsey shifted on the sofa so that she was facing him. "So, you're done? No more performing?"

Ev nodded. "Totally done. I get my famous person thrills from talking to my best friend these days. You know Xavier? The big boss?"

Kelsey nodded. "Mom wanted him for my PR, but he's not taking new clients anymore."

Ev grinned. "That's because he fell for my bestie, Finn. They're holed up being all cute together, and Xavier doesn't have the time he used to. He still goes to the big events and stuff, and Finny tells me all about it." Ev widened his eyes. "Can you believe he hangs out with Remy Dalton? I'm so jealous."

"That's fire. He's such a snack," Kelsey said with a dreamy sigh.

"Right? That one pic with the water running down his face lives rent-free." Ev fanned his cheeks, and Kelsey laughed.

From across the room, Gabe cleared his throat. Oops. It was possible Ev had forgotten he was supposed to be working. He gave Kelsey a wincing smile and turned back to his laptop.

"We need to be strategic," Gabe was saying. "Some of these competitions would do more harm than good to her marketability, and we would have very little control over how they portray her." He was still being polite, despite the hard edge creeping into his voice at having to repeat himself. If Kelsey's mom hadn't been the friend of a friend and wealthy to boot, Ev was pretty sure Gabe would have kicked her out by now. "Let me put out some feelers," Gabe suggested. "See if any of the schedulers for the talk show circuit are interested in having her on as a guest artist."

Kelsey sighed, and for a minute, Ev wasn't sure if it was in reaction to Gabe's suggestion or to something on her phone. "Fantastic. I can be the next nepo baby on Oprah."

"Is that what you're worried about?" Ev asked, keeping his voice low so they wouldn't draw attention again.

Kelsey shrugged. "I mean, it's going to happen, isn't it? Who cares if I have actual talent. My parents are rich and powerful, so anything I accomplish was obviously bought for me."

It was sad, but Ev could see her point. And the fact that her mother was here, hiring the best of the best, kind of proved it. Ev tilted his head in acknowledgment. "How would you do it, if it were up to you?"

That drew a near smile. "The old-school way. I used to record covers in my bedroom and put them up on social media. A couple of them went almost viral."

"You're good, then," Ev asked.

Kelsey rolled her eyes. "Look me up and decide for yourself."

Kelsey's mom was wrapping things up with Gabe, so Ev saved the file and shut his laptop. "You should tell them," he suggested, catching Gabe's eye and tilting his head toward Kelsey. "You aren't going to be happy if you let this go on without giving your input. It's your career. You need to own it."

Kelsey frowned, but it was thoughtful instead of annoyed. "How do I even start?"

Ev gave her a lopsided grin. "Start by making your mom listen. That's the hardest part."

"You were good with her," Gabe said. He rested his hip against the edge of Ev's desk, his arms folded over his chest, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and his thick forearms on display. "The last two times I met with them, she never got off her phone."

Ev kept his eyes on his laptop, trying to get through the last few emails of the day. He shrugged. "We have a few things in common."

"It sounded to me like you understood where she was coming from."

Crap. How much had Gabe overheard? Ev's ears burned. Ugh. He hated blushing. Luckily, it was hard to embarrass him, but when it happened, his whole face, ears included, went bright red. "I guess," he said, hoping Gabe would drop it.

Gabe hummed and seemed to settle in. "Do you want to tell me, or should I Google you?"

Ev's nausea came roaring back, and he forced himself to breathe through it. "I'm surprised you haven't already. You don't seem like the type that worries about things like employee privacy."

He realized how bratty that came out a moment too late. He winced, and his eyes flew to Gabe's face.

Instead of the expected anger, Gabe's lips curled in a slow smirk, and his blue eyes seemed to glitter with amusement. "I'm not," he said. "Usually, I would have done my research the minute you applied for the job."

"But I didn't apply," Ev said dryly. "Nepotism." He made jazz hands.

Gabe's hum of acknowledgment sent a shiver down Ev's spine. Fuck, he was sexy, and Ev was totally failing at ignoring it. "So," Gabe said in a tone that screamed "Daddy." "Are you going to explain yourself, or do I have to get my answers another way?"

Ev nearly whimpered. Fuck. Fuck. He needed more details on option B. Like, did they include coercion? Because Ev would be totally down for finding out just how creative Daddy could get as he convinced Ev to tell him the truth.

"Everett," Gabe said, expectation in his tone.

Ev blinked out of his inappropriate daydream. Crap. What was the question again?

Daddy looked Ev up and down, and Ev's cock took an interest like the desperate slut it was. He was a second away from moaning in encouragement when Gabe interrupted him again.

"What did you say to get Kelsey to open up?"

The question was like being dunked in cold water. His arousal fled, leaving him hollow. He'd walked into that one, hadn't he? He sighed. "It's possible I had my five minutes of fame and didn't enjoy it."

Gabe's eyebrows went up. "I'm going to need a little more than that, Everett."

Of course he did. For fuck's sake. Ev groaned and typed a search into the web browser. He clicked on the first video to pop up, titled Sixteen-Year-Old Everett Bailey Wows the Judges!, and hit play. Before he could turn the screen, Gabe was beside him, one hand on the desk and the other on the back of Ev's chair. He froze as Gabe's clean, subtle scent flooded his nostrils. He'd almost forgotten how good the man smelled. He couldn't help but take a deep breath. Gabe must have misunderstood the reaction, because his hand moved to rest on Ev's shoulder, giving him a supportive squeeze.

Ev leaned into the touch, trying to focus on that and not the sounds coming from the laptop speakers. The host playing up Ev's youth, the judges' sarcastic comments fading into awed exclamations as Ev began to play, and then the audience screaming in excitement when the buzzer was pushed and his world erupted into metallic gold confetti.

The video ended, and Gabe shifted to stop the next one from starting. "You're extremely talented," he said, tone matter-of-fact.

Ev let out a shaky breath. "So I've been told."

Gabe snorted, then gave his shoulder a little shake that helped Ev snap out of the past. "So, you were a piano prodigy."

Ev flinched. "I hate that word."

Gabe shrugged it off. "Did you win?"

The roar of the crowd filled his ears again, but from the stage, it was hard to tell if they were pleased or disappointed. "Came in second, thank fuck."

Fingers gripped his chin, and Ev nearly jerked away before he realized where he was. Gabe tilted his face up and examined his expression, seeming more curious than anything. Ev's heart started thumping harder. Daddy was touching him. "What happened after that?"

Ev broke the contact then, heat returning to his cheeks. "I did the post-show tour, then I retired. I went to college." And went no-contact with his parents, but he wasn't saying that. Ev cleared the lump from his throat. "Graduated. Got a real job. Et cetera, et cetera."

He caught sight of his face frozen on the laptop screen and pushed it shut. It had been easier than explaining, but he already regretted letting Gabe see it. It would be way too easy for him to find out more than Ev was comfortable with.

"I have a meeting across town tomorrow morning. I won't be in until noon," Gabe said, startling him.

"Do you need me to meet you there?" Ev asked. It was rare for Gabe to have a meeting Ev hadn't scheduled.

"No. Just have everything ready for the managers' meeting when I get back."

Ev nodded in agreement. He was almost done with that. He'd done most of it earlier in the week. "Anything else?"

Gabe shook his head. "Get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ev didn't give him a chance to change his mind. He grabbed his laptop and was out the door two minutes later. Maybe he could convince Owen to go out now instead of Saturday. After the day he'd just had, he needed to blow off some steam. Preferably with a hot Dom who wasn't his boss and wouldn't ask too many awkward questions when Ev begged to be spanked until he cried.