Prince of the Playhouse by Tara Lain Read Free Book Online Page A

lips met, awkwardly and enthusiastically, and Merle slipped a tongue into Ru’s mouth. Nice, warm, exploratory, tingly, but—
    Merle pulled back and gave Ru a look. “No? Not doing it for you?”
    Ru sighed and wrinkled his nose. “Truth? I’m probably not giving you a fair trial. I have, uh, had kind of a, shall we say, diverting attachment to a man who doesn’t return the feeling. Unrequited passion hurts like a bitch.”
    “Hmm. I notice the past tense. So maybe I shouldn’t give up?”
    Ru cocked his head. “Seriously, darling, why would you bother? You’re about as adorbs as they come. Few people, male or female, would toss you out of bed.”
    He dropped his head on the steering wheel dramatically. “Maybe we all need our own unrequited passion?”
    “You’re very flattering.”
    Merle looked at Ru under his arm. “I think you need some flattering. I’m guessing you’re too hard on yourself. I know the symptoms because I do it too.”
    “Maybe so.”
    “It’s not easy growing up gay. Hiding takes a toll on your self-esteem.”
    Jesus, if he only knew. “So true.” Mrs. O came out on her porch with Flopsy and Mopsy dancing around her feet. Must be last-walk time. “I best go in before Mrs. O hoses us down.”
    “Is she really a busybody?”
    “I love her, actually, but yes, she does like to know what’s going on. Her saving grace is she doesn’t share it. Like I say, I think she’s compiling blackmail documents on all her neighbors.” He leaned over and pecked Merle’s cheek. “Thank you for the drink and the attention.”
    “Anytime. Seriously.”
    “I’ll see you at the Playhouse.” Ru climbed out of Merle’s car, and the two dogs looked up like someone had thrown them a bone. Running like fuzzy wind, they arrived at his feet, leaping and cavorting but not barking. They pretty much never barked—an excellent characteristic in neighbors.
    The car window slid open on the passenger side. “And you said you didn’t get any attention.”
    Ru looked at the dogs. “Lady, gentleman, please meet Merle Justice, my friend.” Flopsy leaped in the air and planted a lick on Ru’s cheek. “Yep, Merle likes to do that too.”
    Mrs. O’s voice rang out from the porch. “Did you say Merle Justice?” The sentence rose at the end to a near shriek, and she ran, boobs bouncing, off the porch to the car. “I love you, Merle. I’m a huge fan.”
    Ru spoke out of his mouth sideways. “Either flee for your life or get out of the car.”
    Merle chose the latter and slowly circled the vehicle.
    Mrs. O arrived, clapping her hands. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
    Ru laughed. “He holds no claim to deity status, Mrs. O, but he is a noble gentleman.”
    Merle stuck out his hand. “Hi. I’m Merle.”
    She hurled herself, boobs and hair flying, into his arms and hugged him madly. “I’m so thrilled. I’ve watched every episode of Dyson’s Corners at least five times. You’re my favorite character.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. O.”
    “Oh, call me Lottie.”
    Never once had she asked Ru to call her Lottie. Is anyone in the twenty-first century really named Lottie? Mrs. O wasn’t past fifty-five or sixty.
    She stepped back. “Ru, you didn’t tell me you had such a famous and gorgeous boyfriend.”
    “Merle’s not my boyfriend, Mrs. O. We’re new friends. We’re working together at the Playhouse.”
    “He certainly looked like your boyfriend.” She turned to Merle. “You’re going to be performing at the Playhouse?”
    He smiled. “Yes. In Hamlet .”
    “Oh my God, tights! Where do I get tickets?”
    Ru shook his head. “No tights, and you can buy tickets at the box office. Tip—I’d get there quick.”
    “Of course. Everyone will want to see Merle Justice as Hamlet.”
    Merle made a face, then smiled. “Thank you for your confidence, but actually, I’m Horatio. Gray Anson is Hamlet.”
    She turned into a statue. “You’re joking.”
    “Nope.”
    “Gray—the biggest movie star in the