“She told you?” I demanded, jerking my head toward him. “That bitch!”
He laughed. “No. I was told she was going to be performing tonight. And when I heard that, I figured she would be coming with her entourage.”
I grimaced. “Please don’t ever refer to us as her entourage again, especially in front of her. Her ego’s already through the roof.”
“Noted.” He hesitated. Then, “Did you want it to be a surprise?”
“Um, maybe?” Goddammit, when the fuck did I become so awkward? “I mean, not really. Like, some surprises are bad, and I didn’t want to ruin—”
“It would have been a nice surprise,” he said quietly.
That threw me off. “Oh. Well, then. Good. I guess.”
“Sorry I ruined it.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You managed to surprise me instead. I didn’t expect Jeremy Olsen to have a secret identity.” I winced. “And sorry if you wanted to keep it a secret. I don’t think we necessarily understand boundaries with people we care about.”
He stared at me.
“What?” I asked, confused.
He shook his head slowly. “Nothing. It’s—nothing. And it’s fine.” He took a deep breath. “I like having people here just for me. I don’t usually have that.”
Ah, shit. Now I was feeling things. “You seem pretty popular in there.” I was careful to keep the irritation from my voice.
He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not—it’s a surface thing, you know? It’s exciting and fun, but they just know me as this guy who wears leather and happened to win a contest. It’s not that deep.”
I remembered what Charlie had heard from Robert. That Jeremy didn’t seem to be close with anyone. That there was a difference between having admirers and having someone to talk to. It sounded lonely as fuck. “Still, from what I gather, it’s quite the honor. Something to be proud of. I’m sorry if we intruded on that.”
He sounded frustrated when he said, “It’s not a secret. I’m not trying to hide anything. It’s like—Helena. Sandy doesn’t tell everyone he meets he’s a drag queen, does he?”
“Eh. Most of the time. And those who don’t already know usually end up emotionally devastated by a well-placed barb.”
“I’m not ashamed of this,” he said. “It’s just… one part of me.”
“I get that. It’s there, but it doesn’t define you. It’s part of a whole.”
“Right,” he said, sounding relieved. Our shoulders brushed together. “That’s exactly it. I knew you’d get it.”
“You did?”
He looked down at the ground, boots shuffling against the pavement. “Yeah.”
“Oh. That’s… good.”
“You’re different, you know?”
I frowned as I looked over at him. “What?”
“In a good way,” he said quickly. “Like, the best way. You’re… I don’t know how to explain it. You see things in ways others don’t. It’s how you’re so good at what you do.”
“What do you mean, what I do?”
“Being alive, I guess.”
I blinked. “That’s… all-encompassing.”
His eyes sparkled in the low light. “You kind of are.”