him, there wasn’t even a fleeting moment of discomfort. Lance had opened him up and
prepared him well.
Lance bucked his hips slowly, leaning forward so he could kiss Rush at the same
time. His ankles were still on Lance’s shoulders and his knees were practically in his chin.
Though Lance’s chest was heaving and his face was red, he didn’t pound or slam this
time. He moved his hips with such precise tenderness the bath water barely moved. He
slipped in and out of Rush’s body, with his tongue inside Rush’s mouth, so gently Rush
had to concentrate hard on holding back his climax. It was building deep within his body
and he wanted this moment to last forever. In this position, with Lance’s even, calculated
thrusts, Lance was hitting his G-spot. Rush knew he was heading toward a massive
climax without touching his own penis.
A few minutes later, Lance started bucking faster. His knees rubbed against the
bottom of the tub and his balls smacked into Rush’s ass. Rush grabbed Lance’s biceps
and held them for support. Water splashed from the tub and saturated their clothes on the
bathroom floor. Lance was still kissing him; their tongues were locked together. When Lance started to moan, Rush knew he was going to come soon, so he clamped down on
Lance’s erection with the lips of his anus to create more tension; he stopped trying to
postpone his own climax. A few moments later they both came together with a long, slow
climax that made the muscles in Rush’s smooth thighs actually quiver.
After they came, Lance put his arms around Rush and said, “That was wonderful.
I feel as if I’ve gone home again after being away too long. And I want to stay around
this time, if it’s okay with you. Being away that long made me realize how much I love
you. Will you move out here for good? A lot of people commute to New York. I have a
wonderful place in Malibu.”
Rush smiled. This was all so sudden, yet so natural. Lance was still inside his
body. He put his arms around Lance’s neck and hugged him as hard as he could. “I love
you, too. And as long as we’re together, I’ll move anywhere you want.”
Chapter Fourteen
After they canceled Joey’s television show, Joey had no choice but to go back to
nightclubs with his singing act. Lance Sharp signed him to some great gigs in Vegas and
Reno, but it was still a step backwards in his career. Joey worked hard to smile and
pretend everything was all right. His attitude was always positive and he worked hard at
making his performances perfect. But Anderson knew he wasn’t happy. When Joey
wasn’t working, he moped around the house and took long naps in the afternoon. He
drank too much and took pills to go to sleep. The spark that had once been in his eyes had
become dull and lifeless. The only thing that remained the same was their sex life. But
now that Joey was commuting to nightclubs in Nevada, there wasn’t as much time for
them to be together.
Anderson and Harriet kept telling Joey to remain positive. They assured him his
career would pick up and he’d get an offer to do something he loved.
But then one afternoon fate stepped into their lives and everything changed in a
matter of minutes.
Anderson heard a knock on the front door in the middle of the afternoon. He’d
just hung up with his mother. She’d been worried because one of her monthly checks
hadn’t arrived on time. Harriet was in her office at the back of the house and Joey was
driving back from a three-day gig at a casino in Vegas. Anderson hadn’t been expecting
anyone and they rarely had visitors that time of day. So he went to the front door with
raised eyebrows, hoping it wasn’t someone soliciting something. By the time he reached the door, Harriet was standing in the living room.
Anderson gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders, then opened the door and saw Joey
standing there with two policemen at his side.
Anderson reached for Joey’s hand and said, “What’s wrong? Did you have an
accident?”
Joey’s head was down and he stared at his shoes.
The police officer on the right said, “We found him on the side of the freeway. He
was just sitting in his car in a daze. He kept saying he was lost and he didn’t know how to
get home.”
Harriet walked up behind Anderson and said, “You take Joey inside and I’ll find
out what happened.”
Anderson took Joey by the hand and practically dragged him into the living room.
He shuffled across the carpet like a ninety-year-old man. While Harriet talked with the
policemen, Anderson sat Joey down on the sofa and poured him a drink. Joey just sat
there with slumped shoulders, still staring down at his shoes. When Anderson handed
Joey the drink, Joey looked up at him and said, “There’s something wrong. I couldn’t
find my way home, so I pulled the car over and just sat there, hoping I’d remember where
I was going.”
Anderson sat down next to him and smiled. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re fine.
You’ve just been under a great deal of stress lately. You need some time off. Harriet will
talk to Lance about getting you some time off.” Anderson was smiling and putting on a
good front. But inside his stomach was twisting in knots. When the police were gone and Joey was in his bed sleeping, Harriet asked
Anderson to go into the living room and sit down. Anderson had just tucked Joey into
bed and he was smiling because Joey seemed much better. He didn’t think there was
anything to worry about; people got stressed out all the time like this. Joey would be back
to normal in a week or so. He just needed some rest.
But Anderson noticed Harriet wasn’t smiling. She was chain smoking and she
poured herself a full glass of vodka. “Are you okay?” Anderson asked. “It’s no big deal.
He’s just been under a lot of stress. He’ll be fine.” He’d known Harriet for a long time
and he’d never seen such a dark, serious expression on her face.
“Sit down, Anderson,” Harriet said. Her shoulders sank into her flat chest. It
looked as if her body had been deflated. Even the blond chunks in her hair seemed duller
now. “There’s something I have to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago. But I
kept hoping it wouldn’t happen and that I’d never have to mention it to anyone. Joey
doesn’t even know about it.”
Anderson frowned. He sat down on the edge of the sofa and asked. “What are you
talking about?”
Harriet lit another cigarette and took a long, deep drag. She exhaled fast and said,
“Joey has a congenital disease. I’ve known about it for years. I’m in touch with a doctor
all the time. He inherited it from his father. It’s very rare.”
Anderson stood up and crossed to where she was standing. “What kind of disease?
What are you talking about? He looks perfectly healthy to me. He’s just stressed, is all.”
Harriet shook her head and said, “No, Anderson. It’s not stress. Joey has a rare
form of Alzheimer’s disease. The clinical term is Familial Alzheimer’s Disease, FAD. It can happen at any age between sixteen and sixty-five. It’s genetic. His father had it and
so did his grandfather. I kept hoping and praying he’d get lucky and that it wouldn’t
happen until he was much older.”
Anderson watched Harriet. She put the cigarette down in an ashtray and started to
wring her hands. He’d never seen her shed a tear, and now her eyes were filled. “But
there must be some kind of treatment we can get him,” he said. “There must be some
medication. He’s a young man.”
Harriet shook her head and stared down at the floor. “There’s nothing. Once it
starts, it just progresses until he has to be put into a facility. When the first symptoms
started to happen with Joey’s father, it didn’t take long before they had to put him away.
I’m so sorry, Anderson. I’m so sorry. I thought it was best not to tell anyone.” Harriet fell
into a chair and started sobbing.
“What about you?” Anderson asked. “Do you have it?”
Harriet rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “We had different fathers,” she
said. “I’m fine.”
“What do we do now?” Anderson asked. His head was pounding—he felt his
heart beating in his ears.
Harriet shrugged. “We keep him comfortable, we watch him closely, and we
wait.” Then she stood up and walked to where Anderson was standing. She put her arms
around his shoulders and fell into his body. “Don’t leave,” she begged. “He’s going to
need you now more than ever. I know I haven’t been a sweetheart in the past. I’ve been a
bitch. But I do know how much you love him.” Anderson closed his eyes and patted her back. She had been a bitch and there had
been many times he’d resented her interference. But he didn’t say that aloud. He sighed
and said, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do whatever it takes to make him as happy and
comfortable as possible.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Have you heard about Joey?” Rush asked.
When Cody answered the phone, he was just about ready to leave his dressing
room. He was shooting a new music video that day, and it was his final day on the set. “I
haven’t heard anything for a while,” Cody said. “But the last time I talked to Anderson,
Joey wasn’t doing well. They had to hire a full-time nurse to make sure he didn’t wander
out of the house on his own.” Now, Cody pressed his palm to his chest, bracing himself
for bad news. “Is there something new? What is it?” Though he was usually too busy for
friends, he still kept up with Joey and Rush.
“Anderson and Harriet had to put Joey in The Harvey Milk Clinic yesterday,”
Rush said. “Lance helped them. Lance is up in San Francisco right now. I figured I’d tell
you so you don’t have to hear it through gossip.” Rush’s voice was soft and low. He
sounded as if he hadn’t slept all night.
Cody frowned. He knew The Harvey Milk Clinic was Joey’s last resort. It was an
LGBT-oriented facility not far from San Francisco, where they treated everything from
addiction to dementia. There was also a hospice section, and there were a lot of patients
there in the final stages of AIDS. It had been started by a small group of gay men and
women who had once been strong supporters of Harvey Milk, and it had evolved into one
of the most exclusive mental health clinics in the world. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cody
said, popping two pills into his mouth. He swallowed them without water. He’d taken an
extra dose of dudes the night before and his eyelids were still heavy. Now he needed
something to wake him up so he could perform for the music video. “Joey started a fire and almost burned the house down,” Rush said. “Anderson
told me he didn’t have a choice. Putting him into the clinic was for his own safety.
Besides, Joey is totally gone. He knows no one and he can’t function. And the medical
bills have been piling up. Joey didn’t have any medical insurance, so Harriet and
Anderson are working hard to pay all his bills.”
Cody rolled his eyes and twirled his finger. The stimulants he’d just taken were
starting to kick in. “Now there are just two of us,” he said. “It seems like just yesterday
we were all three sitting together in that nightclub in New York, after Joey and I sang
together.”
“I know,” Rush said. “Poor Joey. I never thought it would turn out this way for
him. He’s still a young man. How cruel, to have such a rare disorder.”
There was a loud knock on the dressing room door and someone shouted, “We’re
ready for you now.” Cody rolled his eyes again and looked at his hair in mirror. “Listen,
Rush,” he said, speaking faster, “I’ve got to go. I’m shooting a new video, the one that’s
going to feature Lance’s song, and they’re calling me. It’s the last day of shooting and the
director is a real fucker. Thanks for letting me know about Joey. Keep in touch.”
“I will,” Rush said. “Bye.”
When he hung up, he stood and looked into the mirror, then lifted his middle
finger toward the dressing room door. “I’ll take my good old fucking time,” he whispered.
He’d applied makeup, but there were still dark shadows beneath his eyes, and his face
and neck looked gaunt. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt and his collarbones
protruded. The last time he’d stepped onto a scale, he was about twenty pounds lighter
than he’d been six months earlier. He blamed the weight loss on his last concert tour, which had taken him all over the world. Food hadn’t interested him since then, and he
practically lived on pills. The stimulants, including cigarettes, helped him function during