Page 10 of Loving Ohio (State of Us)

Chapter Nine

Christian

A nother performance down, and our two-person flip has got the crowd excited.

Taylor didn't switch us up tonight either, and my dick can't decide whether it's sad or happy about that. Motherfucker is confused.

As usual, Devon took off as soon as the show ended, and fuck if it doesn't make me want to chase him down.

Things ended in the spaceship kind of weird.

One second, he's sucking my soul out through my dick, and the next he's all cold and shit. Maybe it was something I said, but like, what? Homie expects me to diss my girl like that? Lie and say she isn't the fucking blowjob queen of my heart?

Okay, Devon sucks really good dick, I'll give him that. Never had a dude on his knees for me before, and I definitely want it to happen again—if the asshole would talk to me.

As we roll our dirt bikes off the fairgrounds, a group of fans wait near the campsite entrance, which isn't unusual. Taylor flashes them an award-winning smile, waving when we draw closer, and all the ladies swoon.

One guy in particular, though, stands there with a scowl. He's taller, broad-shouldered, dressed in a ball cap and dirty shirt. The way he eyes Tay with disgust has my hackles rising, and I toss him an up-nod when his gaze swings to me.

“What's up, man? You good?”

“Hell of a show,” he answers, reaching out to shake my hand. I don’t accept it. “I've been following your stunts online for years. You should be riding with the pros. I can hook you up with some of my contacts.”

Somehow, that compliment comes off as condescending, and I curl my lip when I pass him by. “Uh, thanks, but I'm happy where I am.”

The man sneers, once again looking at my best friend in a way that's seriously starting to piss me off. “Shame. You've got a lot of talent to waste with that one.”

My feet freeze on the dirt, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins amping up when I turn to him slowly. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Taylor's head whips toward me when he hears my tone, brows slamming down in confusion.

The man flings a hand at him in dismissal. “The kind of people you're riding with are sick. Would be a lot better of a show if these goddamn fa–”

“ Do not finish that sentence, motherfucker,” I snarl, dropping my two-stroke to the ground as I take a step toward the guy. “You got a problem with my friends?”

“Christian, dude, let's just go.” Taylor’s already tugging at my arm, but I shake him off.

Mr. Baseball Cap puffs out his chest. “His kind shouldn't be allowed in sports. Him or his pansy-ass boyfriend. Don't act like it's not the truth.”

“Fuck you!” Everything flashes red as I pull back my arm, bracing my knees to throw a punch. Just as I launch, someone's arms wrap around my waist, yanking me back into a hard body.

“Easy, hot shot,” Devon whispers in my ear, his palm coming up to rest over my racing heart. “Don't waste your energy on this asswipe. Just breathe.”

I don't realize I’m nearly hyperventilating until I see the rise and fall of his hand on my chest. His other arm presses firmly on my stomach, locking me in place against him.

The fury lancing through my veins begins to slow.

A crowd has started to gather, not only fair attendees but my crew as well.

Taylor's standing to my left, fists clenched while Huck has a protective hand on his arm. Salem stands next to them, looking murderous. Arya is on the right, already twisting her hair into a bun like she's preparing to kick some ass in her heels , and I've never been more proud of my friends.

My family .

Logan pushes through the crowd, an irritated look on his face. He glances between us and Baseball Cap, who's smirking with his arms crossed. “Is there an issue here?”

“Yeah,” I snap, shaking out of Devons grip. “This homophobic asshole needs to be kicked off the fairgrounds.”

Logan’s eyes narrow before he points a finger at the man. “Sir, you need to leave.”

With a scoff, Baseball Cap squares his shoulders, looking Logan straight in the eye. “Fuck no, I paid for my ticket just like everyone else. This is a free country. I can voice my opinions if I want to.”

“Not here, you can't,” Logan responds firmly, reaching into his back pocket. “We don't argue over human rights. That's a matter of morals, not opinion. Take this refund and leave before I call security.”

He slaps a twenty dollar bill on the guy’s chest, impressing the hell out of me by holding it there until Baseball Cap takes it.

With another hateful slur, the asshole crumples the money and storms off. A few onlookers clap, giving Logan high-fives and pats on the back, but I glare after the bigot until he's no longer in sight.

I'm still pissed off.

“What in the actual fuck just happened?” I ask out loud, slowly bending down to pick up my bike.

Devon huffs a humorless laugh. “First time experiencing hate like that, I take it?”

All I can do is blink at him because, in reality, it's not. But this is the first time it's happened for my sexuality. Whatever that may be.

And it wasn't even aimed at me, yet after all the shit that's happened the past few days, it felt personal.

“As sad as this sounds,” Huckslee says, folding his arms over his broad chest, “assholes like that are a dime a dozen for people like us.”

Taylor winces, guilt flickering in his blue-green eyes as he gazes at his boyfriend sadly. I know he’s recalling all the shit he put Huck through in high school.

“That's such fucking bullshit,” I mutter, setting my kickstand to make sure I didn't mess my bike up too badly. “Who I fuck isn't anyone's business. We're all adults. It shouldn't matter.”

Devon's brows rise at that, but Arya’s the one who answers as she pulls me into a hug. “We should do something. Like, show people we won't tolerate hate speech.”

“Agreed,” Taylor says, leading our group into the campsite toward the RV. “I'm sick and tired of people harassing my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I get enough of that from you ,” Huck grins, grabbing Tay on the ass before jumping into some boring conversation with Logan about our sales revenue for this trip.

Fires crackle low around us, glowing embers floating into the dark sky. Sounds of laughter and music echo from the other side of the campground. I don’t feel like laughing. Not after tonight. Not after that shit.

My hands are still curled into fists, nails biting into my palms, but I can’t unclench them.

The words that asshole spat at us keep looping in my head.

Over and over, like a goddamn broken record.

I mean, I knew how bad it was for Huck and Tay in high school, but I guess I never really knew until now. I don’t like it. I want to hit shit.

Devon walks quietly beside me, rolling a half-smoked joint between his fingers as we make it to our RV. He flicks his lighter once, twice, then stops, glancing at me sideways. “You alright, hot shot?”

His voice is low, softer than usual, and fuck, I hate that he’s looking at me like that.

“I’m fine,” I scoff, parking my bike next to Taylor’s at the workbench so we can do our post-show tune-up.

Dev hums, leaning a hip against the bench as he stretches his legs out. “Uh-huh. Truth this time?”

Letting out a slow breath, I unlock my toolbox, sorting through the mess of metal. “I don’t know, man. Just tired of all the hate, I guess.”

Tay grabs a socket wrench from my hands, stepping toward his two-stroke. “It’s bullshit,” he mutters. “All of it.”

I don’t answer, aimlessly digging through the box like I know what I need.

Devon shifts closer, the heat of his body warming my side. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah. Maybe in a bit.”

He nods, setting the joint in between his lips before lighting it. “Cool. Find me later when you’re ready, yeah?”

Something about the way he says it makes my throat tighten. Like, he actually fucking means it. He’d sit here all night if I needed him to.

But I don't.

“Yeah,” I say absently. “Sure.”

Nodding again, Dev bumps my shoulder before wandering off to do whatever he does at night. Walk around in the dark and stare at the stars or some shit.

Salem is the only one still silent, standing near the cold fire pit with a pinched expression. Throwing down my tools, I come up behind her, setting my chin on her shoulder. “Why so quiet, chica ? What's going on?”

“Just thinking about what Arya said,” she answers slowly, rolling her lips in concentration. “About doing something to show everyone where we stand. That we won't be bullied.”

“Yeah? Like what? You think we can make some kind of statement or something?”

Her grey eyes snap to mine, widening as she grabs my arm. “Oh my god. That's it. Christian, you and Arya are geniuses.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah!” She studies Taylor and Devon’s retreating form before turning back to me, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Tomorrow is our last show in Ohio, and since Pride month just started… I know exactly what we're going to do.”