Page 5 of Santino (The Camboy Network #4)

CHAPTER

FOUR

SANTINO

Bellamy’s friends are fucking dope. They’re all so cool and dinner is so damn fun. They treat me like I’m one of the guys, giving me shit and cracking jokes at my expense. I’ve only known them for a handful of hours, but it kind of feels like we’ve been friends forever.

Hayden grabbed the seat at the far end of the table when we first arrived—too far for me to say anything directly to him without shouting, too far to even make eye contact naturally. But even then, I keep glancing over at him every few minutes. I can’t keep my eyes off him.

He’s hot, we’ve established that. But he’s really damn cute too. He gets flustered kind of easily, which for some reason, I find adorable.

And that moment in the kitchen? Fuuuck. I don’t know what that was about, but for a few seconds there, I swear to god he was going to kiss me.

If only I hadn’t been holding the damn book between us.

When he turned away so abruptly, I thought I’d screwed up, for sure.

But then that line about touching his stuff. Oh my god. Ded.

Seriously, though. I’m not sure I’ve got a good read on the guy. He seemed, I don’t know, nervous? In the apartment? But totally cool and super knowledgeable about everything on the train ride here. And now, he’s really quiet around his friends.

I mean, I get it. Rhys is especially hard to compete with. The petite guy has long blue hair and a full face of makeup, while wearing a crop top and mini-skirt. He looks like he’s used to being the center of attention.

Not that that’s a bad thing or anything. A couple of the other guys are kind of like that too. Bellamy’s always been this magnet for attention whenever he walks into a room. And Sebastian has this real “I’m in charge” vibe going on.

Near the end of dinner, Hayden gets up from the table and I see him head toward the restroom.

When he comes back, he’s even quieter than before.

He keeps his chair pushed back from the table, arms wrapped around his middle.

His head is bowed, he won’t look at anyone, and that gorgeous smile he has is nowhere in sight.

He looks like he’s not feeling well. Or maybe he’s upset about something. He seemed fine on the train. Maybe something happened earlier? Or who knows, maybe this is his normal. Maybe he’s always quiet in large groups. What the hell do I know? I met the guy a few hours ago.

By the time we’re finished dinner, Hayden looks fucking miserable.

Like someone kicked his puppy. I kind of want to say something.

Maybe ask if he’s okay or if he wants to go home.

But I’m the new guy. I don’t want to poke my nose into other people’s business and none of the other guys seem to think anything is wrong. So, I keep my mouth shut.

At The Bronzed Rail, we’re welcomed inside like VIPs, which apparently we are—or they are.

The Camboy Network has some sort of agreement where they help promote the club on social media in exchange for VIP access and a reserved table.

Rhys and his boyfriend Angel disappear backstage so Rhys can get ready for his pole dance performance and the rest of us are ushered to our table.

Hayden’s a full step behind us, almost like he doesn’t want people to think he’s with us. When we sit down, he takes the seat that’s on the very edge of the group. He looks like this is the last place in the world he wants to be. Like he’s forcing himself to stay.

The house lights dim and a spotlight illuminates the stage. The curtains pull back and a tall drag queen struts out. “Are you ready to get railed?!” she calls out and the packed nightclub erupts. “Welcome to The Bronzed Rail! I’m Anna Conda and I’ll be your host for the evening!”

The first couple performers are drag queens lip syncing to classics like Britney and Mariah.

They’re good, dancing wildly across the stage, doing the splits and cartwheels and other crazy stuff.

Then it’s Rhys’s turn and the second his name is announced, every single person in the club is on their feet.

Remember when I said Rhys looked like he was used to being the center of attention?

Yeah, that totally tracks. He’s glowing as he comes out on stage wearing black fishnet stockings and matching gloves that extend all the way up his arms and attach across his upper back.

His knee-high platform stilettos are the same electric blue as his hair.

He’s a small dude and when he gets his hands on that pole at the front of the stage, he looks like he’s floating through the air.

There are a couple of taller guys standing in front of me, so I have to crane my head side to side to be able to see Rhys. Then out of nowhere, a pair of strong hands wrap around both my arms and gently move me to the left where I have a better view.

I glance behind me to find Hayden only inches away.

He gives me a sheepish smile that’s way too fucking endearing, then ducks his head.

I’m torn. I want to watch the rest of Rhys’s performance, but I also want to see Hayden’s smile again.

What’s up with him? Is he upset? Is he cool being here?

I wish I could hit pause on time and take a minute to figure him out.

He’s standing really close behind me. So close I can feel the heat of his body and if I “accidentally” sway backward, my back brushes up against his front. He doesn’t shift away when I do that, but he doesn’t lean in toward me either.

Which like, doesn’t mean anything, obviously. But that moment in the kitchen keeps replaying in my mind. Was he going to kiss me? Did I just imagine it?

Or maybe I’m just a horny fanboy who’s reading way too much into every single thing because I more than a little obsessed. Yes. Yeah. That’s it. I need to chill the fuck out.

When Rhys finishes his dance, I maybe, kind of, accidentally pull my chair away from the table so I can sit next to Hayden. “Dude, that was dope!”

Hayden flashes me a quick smile, then drops his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, Rhys is really good. He practices all the time and takes dance classes two or three times a week. Not just pole dancing, but like ballet and other stuff too.”

“Did you see what he was wearing on his feet?” Rhys’s boots had a six-inch platform under the sole and heels that looked like stakes. “How does he walk around in those things?”

Hayden chuckles softly, gaze still trained on the floor. “I used to be his crutch when he was practicing in our apartment. He twisted his ankle once and had to take two weeks off from dance classes. He was so pissed.”

He sounds so proud of Rhys and the fondness in his voice is unmistakable. But there’s also a hint of something else in there. I don’t know what it is… maybe like, nostalgia or something? “It must’ve been fun living with your best friend.”

Hayden’s smile falters. “Yeah, it was.”

A wave of sadness pulses out of him and I shift in my seat when it hits me. Listen, I just met the guy, right? I don’t know who he really is or what he’s got going on in his life. But if anyone asked me, I would’ve said this dude’s dealing with some heavy shit.

I’ve seen something like it before. It reminds me of when my grandmother passed away and my mom kind of fell off the deep end.

I got the same feeling of sadness from her, so thick it made the air around her difficult to breathe.

She got better eventually, but there was about a year when it felt like I lost both a grandmother and a mother.

I hope that’s not what Hayden’s going through. Because that would suck big time.

I put my hand on his knee and give it a reassuring squeeze. “I bet you miss him, huh?”

Hayden’s eyes flick to me, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Stunned, eyes wide, like I’ve somehow uncovered a deep, dark secret.

But come on. That’s not such a big leap, is it?

I mean, they’re best friends who lived together, who enjoyed living together.

Then one of them leaves and the other is left behind in their shared apartment. That has to be hard.

Hayden sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth and chews on it for a couple moments. Watching him, I get the urge to tug the poor lip free and soothe it with my thumb.

But then Hayden’s gaze drops again and he lowers his head like he’s ashamed of something. “How did you know?”

He sounds so small and fragile that my heart sinks. Fuuuck. This feels exactly like it did with my mom. That’s definitely not a good sign.

I give him a light bump with my shoulder. “I’d miss my best friend if he moved out on me.”

For a second, nothing happens. Then Hayden lifts his gaze from the floor and it collides with mine.

All the air is expelled from my lungs and I forget how to breathe.

I can’t see the green of his eyes in the dark club, but even then, it feels like I’m looking into his soul.

There’s hurt there, and sadness. Confusion and loss.

It’s so much like Mom that I feel like I’m back there again. Helping her through the depression. Coaxing her back to life. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I certainly wouldn’t wish it on someone like Hayden.

“Incoming!” Bellamy shouts as he barges past us with a tray of fresh drinks he deposits on the table. Craft beer, whiskey, margaritas. He waves everyone over and hands out the drinks.

I pass a margarita to Hayden and he throws me a smile of thanks before melting toward the back of the group. I follow him, suddenly afraid that he’ll disappear if I lose sight of him.

Bellamy throws an arm around Noel’s shoulder and holds up his glass with the other. “I just want to say thank you to all you guys for welcoming me into the fold. I know I was ‘the enemy’ for a long time?—”

“No, you weren’t!” Rhys interrupts. “We all liked you just fine. It was only Noel who had a stick up his ass.”

Noel gives him the middle finger while laughter ripples through the group. Hayden tries to laugh too, but it feels awkward and stilted.

“Well, now I’ve replaced the stick with something better.” Bellamy reaches down and gropes himself.

Noel rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout. But his lips still tilt up at the corners like he can’t quite fight back his grin. “Anyway…”

“Anyway…” Bellamy continues. “Noel and I are both really excited about this documentary. It means a lot that you’re all helping out with it. This is our family in New York and we’re super grateful to have you in our lives. Here’s to The Camboy Network!”

Beside me, I feel Hayden shift and I look over just in time to see him slip away. He takes up a spot against the wall a few feet down and stares into his margarita like the bright pink liquid holds the answers to all of life’s secrets.

I glance around at the group. None of them seems to notice Hayden’s not with us anymore. And if they have, they don’t seem worried. I’m not sure what to do.

With Mom, sometimes she needed us to pull her out of her loneliness and back into life. But sometimes she just needed to be alone and recuperate. I don’t know Hayden well enough to know what he needs. Hell, I’m not even certain he needs anything from me or if he needs anything at all.

I shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions about what’s bothering him. Just because he’s sad doesn’t mean he’s depressed. Just because I think he’s sad doesn’t mean he’s actually sad.

His friends know him better than I do. They’re all so tight with one another. They would know if something was seriously wrong, right? They would’ve done something about it, right?

Hayden slides down the wall an inch, like his legs aren’t quite strong enough to hold him up. He must feel me staring at him because he lifts his head and our eyes lock across the distance.

Maybe I’m imagining it, but I think I see a cry for help. My heart thuds, louder than the music pumping through the nightclub’s speakers. I’m probably not the right person to help him. I just met the guy. The only things I know about him are what he’s posted on the internet.

But I also can’t ignore what’s in front of my very eyes.

I grab the two chairs we were sitting in and drag them over to the wall. If he feels better over here, then that’s where I’ll meet him.

“Thought you might like to sit,” I say, setting the chair down next to him.

He looks at it for a moment, like he’s trying to decide whether he should accept the favor. Then slowly, he lowers himself into the chair. I put the other chair down right beside him and plop myself on it.

Neither of us speaks for a moment. Then Hayden leans over.

“Thanks,” he says, almost too quiet to be heard over the music.

I smile, proud of myself for making the right choice. “No probs, dude.”