Valor on the Move

Not that it matters, because it’s never going to happen again. “I’m sorry I put you in that position. But…to be honest, I’m not sorry it happened. Because I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have my first kiss with.”

Shane looked at him then, his stoic expression unreadable. Was he mad? Touched? Ambivalent?

Rafa rambled on. “Um, I just want you to know that I wouldn’t do anything to get you in trouble. Well, I told Ash, but it’s all in code. And she would never talk.”

Shane nodded, and they both turned to the screen. Rafa took off the hat and ran his hand over his stupid hair, hoping it wasn’t sticking up now. Maybe he should put it back on. Maybe—

“She knows the real you?”

As Superman flew off to battle the latest version of Lex Luthor, Rafa nodded. He glanced at Shane, who didn’t look at him. “We’ve never been a real couple. Just best friends. Neither of us could come out.” Oh shit, he wasn’t supposed to be outing Ash. “Shit, you can’t tell anyone that,” he quickly added. “Not that you would, but…”

Their eyes met in the darkness. “I wouldn’t.”

There was something about Shane’s steady gaze and voice that just made Rafa feel so safe. He nodded. “I know.”

“I know it must be hard. Hiding who you are.”

“You never had to? From your parents?”

Something—perhaps affection and a stab of pain—flickered over Shane’s face, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and looked away. “They were very accepting. It was never an issue.”

“That’s good.” Rafa wanted to ask a million more questions about them, but it wasn’t his place. “So, we have a plan. Me and Ash. It’s all worked out, how we’re going to break up, and finally come out to our folks. We’ve only got one semester left, and my dad will be out of office in January, and then…”

Shane glanced over and waited.

“And then anything, I guess. Everything.” The thrill of anticipation put a smile on his face. “My life will finally begin. In Australia I can surf and cook. It’s going to be perfect.”

Shane smiled at him, and Rafa’s stomach swooped like he was on a rollercoaster. “Sounds like a good plan, Rafa.” Shane turned his head back to the movie, although Rafa knew he wasn’t paying attention to it. His eyes darted around, always watching; protecting Rafa from any possible threat. Rafa wondered what he was like off duty, totally relaxed and himself. No suit, or ear piece, or eagle eye. Just Shane.

Of course thoughts of no suit immediately morphed into thoughts of Shane naked, and that was not a good mental path to travel unless Rafa was alone in his bedroom with his hand down his shorts. He forced himself to focus on the movie and the lackluster action scene involving a monorail and screaming passengers heading to certain doom. Naturally, Superman saved the day.

The man in front got up and left the theater. He came back in a few minutes, and Shane lifted his wrist to say something to Alan that Rafa missed in an explosion of glass onscreen. Shane glanced over and gave him a reassuring smile—a quick tug of his lips.

Rafa put his feet up and finally breathed deeply for the first time in days.

Chapter Ten

Although the White House was generally always bustling with people and activity during the day, when the president returned, it went into high gear. Shane stood on the South Lawn with Alan and other agents as Marine One and its two flanking escorts approached, the rotors of the helicopters thrumming. The countersnipers in strategic positions on the roof reported in, and Shane pressed against his ear piece to better hear the command center’s response as the noise from the choppers grew.

Rafa, his mother, sister, brother, and a few aunts and uncles waited on the lawn with wide smiles and neatly pressed clothing. The eldest brother, codename Vacation, was enroute with his wife from New York City. The last report was that they’d be wheels down in thirty after a canceled flight the night before thanks to torrential rain on the eastern seaboard. There had been some concern that the president himself might not make it back from Europe in time for his own birthday party that night, but here he was. Would probably be jetlagged as all hell, Shane mused.

As the summer wore on, the heat had settled into DC, and sweat prickled the back of Shane’s neck. The sun was bright overhead, and even with his polarized sunglasses, he had to squint as he peered around the grounds. Sometimes people asked about Secret Service agents and if there was some covert reason they wore sunglasses, but the truth was they were to block the goddamn sun.

Press Corps photographers were huddled on the lawn with zoom lenses at the ready, and the armed emergency response team was concealed in the bushes around the perimeter. Beyond the fountain was the fence and the street, and in the distance across a long stretch of grass looking toward the Washington Monument, Shane could see tourists gathered, undoubtedly with iPhones at the ready as the helicopters passed them overhead.