Page 15 of No Rhyme or Riesling

Skylar laughed, the sound deeper than Adam remembered it being. The boy's face had slimmed while his shoulders had broadened slightly, the trim yet toned muscles straining theskintight, long-sleeved shirt he wore. That was all clearly the result of the same hormone therapy Adam used. And he wore his hair longer now, the sandy blond strands brushing his shoulders instead of being buzzed close to his head. He was almost the spitting image of Taylor Hanson, circa theThis Time Aroundalbum. Played the piano like him, too. Adam would never forget stumbling upon Skylar playing in a hotel lobby and being unable to resist singing along despite the grief weighing him down.

“My boyfriend's brother lives here,” Skylar said, answering Adam's question. “We're in town to visit for the weekend. I knew you were somewhere down this way but I had no idea you'd behere!”

“Holy shit, this is amazing!” Adam threw himself at Skylar, hugging him again, then jumped back and grinned as he said, “Haven, this is Sky. He's the one who put me up in San Francisco when the band was touring there.”

“When Trevor didn't get enough rooms?” Haven asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, rolling his eyes, remembering the drama of that night. They'd rolled into San Francisco late in the evening, all of them hungry and exhausted from driving all day, but when they'd gotten to their hotel, they discovered that the band leader, Trevor, had only booked two double rooms for the five of them. None of the guys in the band were willing to share a bed, and since Adam had only just started his transition from female to male, the prospect of sharing a room was beyond uncomfortable. They tried to add another room to their reservation, but since there was some big convention in town, everything was booked solid.

Just as Adam was working up to an epic meltdown—being tired, hungry, and still grieving—he'd heard the piano. Something in the way Skylar played had punctured his distress just enough to get him to calm down. And after singing along fora few songs, the two of them moved off to the hotel lounge and instantly became friends, sharing a love of music and—when it tumbled out in conversation—the same struggles of being trans men.

When Skylar heard about the hotel predicament, he offered Adam the use of his apartment. Adam wound up staying with him for the whole two weeks the band was in town, and they'd been friends ever since. Granted, they wound up playing phone tag more often than not since Skylar worked nights, and they'd talked more than once about visiting, but life kept getting in the way.

“Sky, this is Haven,” Adam went on, finishing the introductions. “He's my roommate.”

“Nice to meet you,” Skylar and Haven murmured at one another.

“Holy shit, I can't believe you're actually here and–” Adam broke off. “Wait. Hold on.” His eyes went wide. “Boyfriend?” he gasped.

Skylar laughed. “Yeah. Um.” He paused, searching the room. “I don't know if you know Dakota Pratt–”

“Yeah, of course,” Adam said. “He's one of my best friends here.”

“Oh! Ha! Holy shit. That's crazy. Okay, so then you probably know his brothers–”

“I've never had a chance to meet them, actually,” Adam admitted. “I've had to work every time they've been in town to visit.”

Skylar turned, stretching up to search the room again. “Oh! There they are.” He pointed at far end of the sitting room. “Over there with Dakota. The one right next to him is the middle brother, Quinn. He's straight as an arrow, by the way, but he won't be offended if you flirt with him. And then there's the youngest, Charlie.”

“Holy crap,” Haven breathed. “Talk about winning the genetic lottery.”

“No shit,” Adam gasped. All three Pratt brothers looked like they'd walked off the cover of a men's magazine. “So you're dating Charlie?” Adam paused with a frown, trying to recall what he knew about the boy. “He's the autistic one, right?”

Skylar nodded. “His parents asked me to come along on this trip. Charlie loves Dakota and loves to come see him, but he always kinda throws a fuss about deviating from his routine, so they thought having me come this time would help make it easier for him.” Skylar paused, eyeing Haven, but the boy had turned away to say something to Theo. Skylar lowered his voice and added, “Plus, the boss gave me a few extra paid days off after a client got a little too rough the other night. So, win-win for me.”

Adam hesitated, then leaned closer and whispered, “Does Charlie know about that? Your job?”

Skylar winced. “He does. I mean, heknows, but since it's all sort of out-of-sight, out-of-mind for him, he's able to ignore it. Unless he wants me to spend the night, but I have to work instead. Then it's a problem.” Skylar sighed and sank onto a bar stool at the counter, looking like the weight of the world suddenly dropped onto his shoulders. “But I have to work. I'm so close, Adam. So fucking close, I can almost taste it.”

“To being done?” Adam asked, hopping up onto the stool next to him.

Skylar nodded. “Just as soon as I've saved up enough for a hysto, I'm out. No more escorting. No more of that god-awful city. I'm gonna get my surgery and then start over somewhere nobody knows me.”

“How much longer?”

Skylar sighed and brushed a hand back through his hair. The move strained his sleeve, revealing a hint of the tattoos thatdecorated his left arm. Skylar tugged the sleeve back down as he said, “Thirteen months, I think. That's what my last budget calculations predicted. And that's assuming shit doesn't keep getting more and more expensive in the meantime. Fuck.”

Adam winced. He wanted to say he knew what Skylar meant, except he really had no clue. Thanks to his inheritance—combined with the payout from the malpractice suit over his dad's death—he probably wouldn't have to worry about money for the rest of his life. He never had to think about balancing the expense of a heating bill versus groceries the way Haven always had. Or the way Skylar did. Then again, Skylar was known to go without things like heat just to pinch every last penny, tucking it away into savings so he could eventually pay for his surgeries.

“Sky,” Adam began.

“Don't,” Skylar cut him off, biting out the word between clenched teeth.

“What?”

“I know what you're gonna say,” Skylar said, reaching out to give Adam's hand a squeeze. “And I appreciate it. I really do. But I don't want your money. I still won't take it, not even as a loan. I won't owe you, period. I have to do this on my own.”

Adam winced. He had made that offer before, but that hadn't been what he was going to say this time. At least, not exactly. The thought of his friend going through surgery made him feel sick. He knew Skylar had made it through top surgery without any complications—hell, all of his trans friends had, for that matter—but he still couldn't help fearing that Skylar would go in for that hysterectomy and never come back out again.

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