Page 29 of Stand By Me

"Hopefully not right now. But back then… Let's just say there's a reason I wasn't out at work. Well, there were a couple of reasons, but, you know. I'd never get to be the First Son's personal detail if they'd known."

"God bless America," Martinez muttered darkly.

"To be fair, I haven't worked there for… almost twelve years, fuck. A lot of things could've changed."

"Some of it, yes. I know the guy who's the primary detail for the president's chief of staff and he's married to a guy. Does it count if the chief of staff is also openly gay, though?"

Clay was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but he still answered.

"For the agency? No idea. But it would've counted for me, back then."

Martinez's shoulders slumped.

"You're right. It would've mattered to me, too. So maybe we can give that to someone else now, huh?" he asked, smile crooked. "Show them it can be done."

"Says a guy who became famous for taking a bullet in the line of duty," Clay teased. "I'm pretty sure you've already shown them."

"Aww, you say the sweetest things."

They both laughed. They weren't the type to chase fame—Clay definitely wasn't, and from what he'd learned so far, neither was Martinez. They were simply two guys doing their job.

They sat there in silence for a while longer, but then it was time to get back to work.

"Oh, and by the way? It was Eddie and James." Clay pulled himself up. "They were the ones who made me ask about the rules, I mean."

"I figured it might be about them, since these two are the most obvious. How James hasn't caught on yet, I have no idea. He's trained to notice things, for fuck's sake."

Clay snorted. "Not so well trained in noticing feelings, I'd guess."

"Aren't we all," Martinez muttered, walking towards the roof exit. "But don't think I forgot aboutyoucatching some feelings back at the museum. I expect a story at some point."

Clay burrowed inside his jacket, only now realizing how cold he was. They'd been sitting out there for a while and the weather wasn't that warm yet.

"We'll see." He wasn't used to talking about guys with anyone but Jake—and even that was rare, not to mention lacking in detail. "Too early to jinx it."

Martinez patted him on the arm. "For what it's worth, though, you're more than welcome to bring any date to the company parties. They're low-key and fun, actually. But if you want to start with something less crowded, some of us bring partners to the biweekly Sunday basketball games. Let me know if you're interested, alone or with a date, and I'll give you the details."

Clay nodded, ignoring the warmth in his chest. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

Returning to the States had been like a jump with a faulty parachute. He'd had an idea where he would want to land, but none on how to actually get there, or whether the back-up parachute would open. He'd wanted to come back, and he'd been thrilled when Jake decided to return, but all Clay had left here were his mom, his brother, and money in the bank to let him weather a storm or two.

So far, almost nothing went the way he'd expected, but maybe he should better appreciate the things that had turned out well. Like this job, and people here, and Mario…

Oh yeah, he'd gladlyappreciateMario tonight. And maybe tomorrow morning, too, if things progressed the way Clay hoped they would.

That thought brought up a different kind of warmth inside him and he bit his lip, happy that Martinez walked ahead of him.

It was much too early to become a topic of company-wide gossip, after all.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The restaurant Mario had suggested for their dinner was within walking distance of both their apartments. If he'd proposed it partially because of how convenient it would be afterwards, well, who could blame him, right?

As he left for the date, he let Roberto know he might not be back tonight, but he didn't give his cousin time to ask questions. As much as Mario loved him, Roberto was terrible at keeping secrets. If Mario admitted he was going out withtheClay Jackson, the news would spread down the de Silva phone tree in fifteen minutes, tops.

Of course, he could also lie about who he was going out with, but he preferred to avoid that if at all possible. It was bad enough that he still had to tiptoe around the topic while talking to Ben.

Not much longer, Mario promised himself. If everything went well tonight, he'd talk to Clay about telling Ben. They would just have to weather that explosion when it happened and deal with the fallout—him probably more than Clay, since, well, Ben already hated his brother anyway. It couldn't get much worse there.

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