Chapter 3

Were Bo and Carlos cuddled up in the back of their limo right now, taking selfies together, laughing and sipping champagne?

Shake it off, he told himself as he got behind the wheel of his Lexus convertible. Eyes on the road, Rafael.

After all, like Amber had said, he was a big boy. Furthermore, he was going to be the bigger man. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and if Carlos (or Bo, though that was less likely) tried to start something with him, they would only make themselves look bad. If there was going to be a stink at the Gala tonight, it wouldn’t be because of Rafi.

He took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the wind in his hair, and turned on the radio.

“—of the Constellation Gala, with the usual amazing display of fashion choices,” said a delighted female DJ. “My Twitter feed is full of really questionable costumery right now, which is just Christmas for me. One of the really gorgeous ones, though, is that blue butterfly outfit from Bo Thomas—did you see it, Bret?”