Trevor’s favorite was the toy store over at the building with the kids’ market. Oh he tried not to show it, which was adorbs, but he and Carson had bonded over a love of classic board games. Jalen took a pic of Trevor for himself that he didn’t post—Trevor with a metal brain teaser puzzle, tongue stuck out while he tried to solve it. The hint of pink tongue was hella sexy.
They got lunch from different vendors, meeting back up at the table Trevor snagged in the food court. Turned out Carter and Carson shared Jalen’s love of trying new food, so they got different dishes to share. They piled all the food up and did a bunch of food pic posts—brightly colored macarons, exotic cheese and olives, chocolate tacos, shepherd’s pie, eggplant rolls, smoked pork chops, and long banh mi baguettes piled with meat and Vietnamese flavors. After almost three weeks of meat and cheese sandwiches with mayo for lunch, it was like food heaven.
Carter nibbled microscopic bites of everything while Trevor mainly ate a salad from the Vietnamese place, which left Carson and Jalen to chow down on the rest of the bounty. Their table faced the water to the north of the market and the view of the downtown high-rises made Jalen feel small—a tiny dot in a busy city. He liked that feeling, like the world was full of endless stuff to explore. Liked having someone like Trevor beside him to explore with. He squeezed Trevor’s thigh.
“Try one of these.” He shoved the olive container at Trevor.
“Ugh. No. How can you still have room?” Trevor took a picture of Jalen working on a chocolate taco.
“I’m gonna work out later.” Jalen grinned for the camera.
“And we know how,” Carter teased with an affected leer. Trevor flicked an olive at him. He wouldn’t have done that two weeks ago. He was getting better at standing up for himself, something that made Jalen’s chest swell.
“You guys are really good at faking being in love,” Carson said, eating the olive Trevor had flicked at Carter. “Like supergood.”
“Yep. We are.” Trevor said it without looking at Jalen, and Jalen couldn’t figure out whether his tone was sarcastic or sincere or somewhere in between.
“We should take notes.” Carter nudged him and the two shared a totally sappy look.
“I’m done.” Jalen shoved the rest of his dessert away.
“After lunch, we’re going to get the shuttle to the Capilano Suspension Bridge,” Carson said. “They have all these elevated walkways and hanging bridges. You want to come?”
“What do you think, Trev?” On the one hand, Jalen had never been on a suspension bridge and thought that sounded like fun, but on the other hand, he really kind of wanted some alone time with Trevor, and he had an idea that he definitely did not want Carson and Carter to turn into a publicity stunt.
“I don’t really like wobbly things.” Trevor made a face like Jalen had told him to eat some of the pickled octopus one booth had for sale. “It’s stupid, but when I was at church camp when I was eight, we did this confidence-bridge thing and it was really scary.”
“It’s bigger than one at camp.” Carter had the tone that always made Jalen want to smack him.
“Hey, he said he doesn’t like bridges. Think we’ll head downtown, explore a bit, maybe window shop some.” Jalen didn’t want to say exactly where he was taking Trevor lest the twosome have opinions.
“Eh.” Trevor’s eyes narrowed, and Jalen had a feeling he was performing some complicated financial math. “Maybe if they have some sale racks?”
“I bet they do.” He squeezed Trevor’s knee again, not sure how to say that he’d happily pay for stuff without damaging Trevor’s pride. “But we don’t have to buy anything. We can explore.”
“I can’t wait for our first stipend check.” Carter patted the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I am so tired of being broke.”
“You’re broke?” Trevor’s eyes bugged out. Good to know that Jalen wasn’t the only one he made stupid assumptions about. Jalen kicked his ankle. It wasn’t their business if Carter didn’t have bread. Jalen knew plenty of guys like Carter—pricey threads, nothing in their wallets.
“Completely. Student loans coming due in a few months, too,” Carter groaned. “Ads on my videos with Carson are nice, but they don’t pay rent.”
“I said I can loan you—” Carson started speaking, but Carter held up a hand.
“I know babe, I know. We can’t all have the accountant mom who moonlights as PFLAG president, though.”
“That’s why you’re so uptight about winning the show?” Trevor asked, his tone full of wonder. Forget a poker face—Trevor didn’t even have a poker voice.
“I wouldn’t call it uptight—”
“Yeah, babe, it’s uptight.” Carson slung an arm around Carter’s shoulders. “And this show is our best shot of sticking together and doing what we love. So yeah, we take it seriously.”
“I’m broke too,” Trevor said softly. Jalen rubbed his leg. “My parents kicked me out of the family. I get it. It feels like this is our only real shot.”
It was Jalen’s turn for bulging eyes when Carter leaned across the table and fist bumped Trevor. “Shitty families unite.”
“Wish I was a better lead. You guys deserve to win.” Trevor fiddled with his straw.
“You are.” Jalen was surprised when Carter and Carson joined him in the quick rebuttal.
“Man, when you’re on like at the concert?” Carter shook his head. “You’re unstoppable. How about we work on getting that consistent all the time?”
“I can do that.” Trevor nodded gravely. A weird sort of pride filled Jalen’s chest. Trevor could be quick to make assumptions, but he was also good at correcting himself. Maybe this truce with Carter would hold. The ability to admit mistakes was an underrated trait, but one that Mama Kern preached was essential in a mate.
Wait. Trevor’s not your mate. Not even auditioning for the role. How would he even introduce Trevor to Mama Kern? “This is the guy who plays my boyfriend on TV.” The gulf between pretend and real grew wider and lonelier by the hour.
He watched as Trevor laughed at something Carson said. The light from the huge glass windows caught his golden hair, made his smile gleam even brighter. Jalen’s chest squeezed hard. He’d be perfect if only he was real. If only he was mine.
“I know where we’re going,” Trevor said as they found seats at the back of the bus.
“Look at all the shares of the singing on the bus video!” Jalen shoved his phone under Trevor’s nose, completely ignoring Trevor’s comment. Jalen took the window seat. He was totally like a kid exploring. Trevor liked how he threw himself into new things, soaking up experiences instead of being all tentative like he usually was himself.
“That’s cool.” Trevor pushed the phone away. Yup. Tons of likes and shares. And he didn’t look or sound half bad. But he wasn’t going to be distracted by all the compliments on the video. “You can’t trick me, you know.”
“Trick you?” Jalen’s face was the picture of innocence.
“I saw the bus schedule. We’re going to Davie Street.”
“And?”
“And I’m not an idiot. I looked up gay Vancouver before I came. I know that’s where all the gay clubs and stuff are.”
“You Googled that?” Jalen raised an eyebrow.
“I’m weak.” Trevor sighed. “I knew it would probably only be a matter of time before I caved and snuck out. And I didn’t know about the whole pretend boyfriend thing at the time.”
“I see.” Jalen’s tone was a bit sharp.
“I didn’t know about you.” Trevor looked around the bus. It was almost as crowded as the earlier one, and no one was looking at them. He grabbed Jalen’s hand, laced their fingers together. “And I know what you’re trying to do. You want me to go walk around the gay neighborhood, see all the couples, maybe have some sort of epiphany, feel better about . . . you know . . . bedroom stuff.”
He might be okay holding Jalen’s hand, but his heart was pounding like the bass in a dance track at that amount of contact. Sayi
ng the word gay wasn’t happening and he definitely wasn’t doing more than alluding to the whole feeling-bad-after-sex thing.
“Am I that obvious?” Jalen rubbed his jaw.
“You’re . . . sweet,” Trevor said, because he was. “You want to solve all my problems. You think this will make me feel less guilt and shame, kinda like how you keep making sure I’m eating enough meat to avoid crashes.”
“Well, you feeling good matters to me.” Jalen shrugged. He squeezed Trevor’s hand, and something pulled loose in Trevor’s chest, like a too-tight thread unraveling, leaving him feeling disjointed and more than a little bare.
“You wanna go somewhere else?” Jalen asked as the bus went over the bridge and into the West End of Vancouver. “We could go to one of the parks or the beach—”
“This is good.” Trevor squeezed his hand back. “I’m just not promising some sort of magic. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You couldn’t.” Jalen looked at his shoes.
Heart. Puddle. Right there in the back of the bus, Trevor turned into a complete pile of goo. He needed to tell Jalen—
“Hey, this is our stop!” Jalen pushed Trevor out of the seat and followed him off the bus.
Moment gone. Probably for the best.
Outside, the bright sunshine of the day continued, rainbow flags on the light poles waving in the light breeze. Vancouver in early summer felt more like spring back in the Midwest—gorgeous and mild, with none of the sweltering humidity. Other than the flags, it looked like any other urban neighborhood in North America—way more crowded with foot traffic than Trevor was used to and with eateries representing almost every continent, but otherwise it was blissfully average.
As if sensing Trevor’s thoughts, Jalen said, “You should see LA Pride. It’s insane.”
“I probably wouldn’t know where to look,” Trevor admitted.
“Oh your whole eyes-bugging-out thing is cute. That’s half the reason I’d like to take you.”
“And the other is part of your make-Trevor-a-happier-gay plan?”
“Maybe.” Jalen grabbed his hand again, swung it. “Is it working yet?”
Trevor thought for a minute, really thought about the last three weeks. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “I think it might be. I don’t feel so . . . I don’t know . . . lost. Angry. Hating myself.”
“You seriously hated yourself?” Jalen pulled him under the awning of an Asian bakery, turned so he could meet Trevor’s eyes. “Man, that’s harsh.”
Trevor nodded. “But I don’t so much lately. And hey, last night I . . .” He looked around, lowered his voice. “Fell asleep. After, I mean.”
“I know what you meant. Gonna test that theory again later.” Jalen gave a sly smile.
They walked a bit, looking in the windows of different restaurants and businesses. “Hey, it’s a toy shop!” Jalen pointed to a rather innocuous storefront. Well-lit, with dozens of rainbow-colored items in the windows, it didn’t look like any toy . . .
“Ooh . . .” Trevor caught the discreet 18+ sign on the door and the smaller type font advertising SOMETHING FOR ADULTS OF ALL TASTES. “That kind of toy shop.”
“We should go in.”
“We should not.” Trevor sped up down the sidewalk, dragging a protesting Jalen along.
“Hey! What’s your issue? It would be fun!” Jalen dug in his heels, drawing them to a halt in front of a check-cashing place.
“Someone might recognize us!” Trevor hissed, even though that wasn’t the issue at all.
“Dude, we’re not even a little famous yet. And what are they going to do? Bust us for looking? We could just say we needed condoms. They can’t get mad at safe sex.”
“We don’t need condoms.” Trevor kept his voice a bare whisper. Jalen had made their non-need of condoms pretty darn clear because fucking wasn’t on the agenda. “And I can’t go in there.”
It was the same reaction he used to have to gay bars—overwhelming terror racing over a deep need and curiosity, all mixed up like a toxic cocktail. It made him feel sweaty and dirty and like a pervert and—
Oh. This was totally why Jalen had brought him here.
“I should be able to go in there,” he said softy. “Shouldn’t I?”
“Yeah.” Jalen’s eyes were patient and kind. “You should. But it’s okay. We don’t have to.”
“What . . . what were you thinking of looking at?” Trevor squeezed his eyes shut, like perhaps if he visualized being in there, it would get less scary.
He felt Jalen’s lips near his ear. “Plugs.”
“What?” His eyes shot open. “For you? But you don’t like . . . that.”
“Yeah, but you do.” Jalen’s breath was warm in his ear, and hot shivers raced down Trevor’s spine.
“Ooh.” Understanding dawned. “You don’t have to get into that for me.”
“You can say ‘ass play.’ World won’t end. And I had this thought . . . what if you had a plug in while we rolled around?”
I think you’re the perfect guy for me. “Sounds . . . hot.”
“But we don’t have to go in. Not yet. Maybe we can walk around a bit more. There’s a pub up there that was on the guide I read. We could get fries and beers.”
“Are you seriously hungry again? You ate a small town for lunch.”
“I’m always hungry. And we can drink! Stupid show won’t let us drink on set even though you only have to be eighteen in Canada. A beer sounds fun.”
“I only drink when I’m looking to get laid and forget about it later.” The words came out way harsher than Trevor had expected.
“Well. All right, then.” Jalen dropped Trevor’s hand. “Maybe you should just do that.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah, you kind of did.”
Crap. Trevor was ruining their nice afternoon by rejecting all Jalen’s ideas and being a dick about it. “Sorry.”
“You can do that, you know? It’s our day off. It’s the middle of the day, but you could probably still get laid. You’re cute.” Jalen said the last bit like an insult.
“I wouldn’t do that. I’m with you.”
“Yeah? There are no cameras around. We’re not on set. I’m not your pretend boyfriend right now.” Jalen’s voice was sharp, and Trevor couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry.
“I want you to be,” Trevor said, so softly he wasn’t sure he’d even spoken the words.
“You want me to be your pretend boyfriend today?” Jalen’s tone gentled, and he cocked his head, studying Trevor. Waiting.
“I want you to be my real one.” Trevor addressed a crack on the sidewalk. “I don’t want to go get drunk and be picked up by strangers. Because I’m with you.”
“Yeah?” Jalen turned him so they faced each other, cupped Trevor’s face. “So this isn’t just hooking up because the show is forcing us together?”
“The show’s not forcing me to do that. Or to hang with you today. I want to.”
“I wanna hang with you, too.” Jalen’s lips were so close Trevor could feel his breath. “And not because they’re making me.”
“Even though I’m kind of crabby?”
“Even then.”
Kiss me, damn it. But Jalen didn’t—he grinned like a fool, and his lips were right there, but no kiss. Fine. You win. Trevor closed the gap between them, kissing Jalen with far more finesse than that first angry kiss. Jalen tasted like chocolate and spice, and his full lips were soft and giving under Trevor’s own. What he’d intended as a sweet peck morphed into something hotter, hungrier. He kissed Jalen in the middle of the sidewalk, where anyone could see, where there wasn’t a camera in sight. Or a bed. This wasn’t about sex. Wasn’t about hooking up in the night because they had to pretend the next morning anyway.
No, he kissed Jalen like it meant something. Like this, right here, was more important than a paycheck, more important than someone’s judgment—more important even than his own guilt. And in that moment, he felt like he could tr
iumph over all of it.
He moved his lips to Jalen’s ear. “Let’s go in the store.”
“Oh yeah,” Jalen said before he kissed him back.
Chapter Fifteen
@NextDirectionShow Three weeks are in the books & it’s premiere night! Everyone’s beyond excited to see what you think! Two-hour episode!
Diabetes sucked donkey dick. It really did. Trevor pricked his finger again, running a second strip, as if the number might magically lower itself in the three seconds since his last test.
Nope.
Still high.
Not like emergency-room high, but ever since their outing yesterday his numbers had been higher than usual, and adjusting his breakfast and lunch choices hadn’t helped. He might need more meds, but he didn’t want to tip things too low either.
Fuck.
This sucked. Not wanting to alarm Jalen, he’d called the student health clinic back in Iowa, only to learn that they had limited summer hours and a provider could maybe call him back Monday. Oh well. He’d just have to trust that if he kept making good food choices, things would even out by then.
Trust has worked out so well for you in the past, hasn’t it? Taking a deep breath, he left the small bathroom and headed back down the hallway. The premiere party was in the private party room of a downtown Vancouver club. Throbbing music from the main club filtered down the hallway. He needed to drop his backpack back with coat check. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one who’d brought a bag; two of the Keg Stand guys also had backpacks. Trevor had a feeling they had flasks stowed inside.
As he handed his bag over to the bored Goth girl working the coat-check closet, he spotted Carter deep in conversation with a tall man in a dress shirt and vest with tightly tailored pants. The guy looked vaguely familiar, but Trevor didn’t watch a lot of this cable network and wasn’t up on the celebrity guests. About the only one he’d recognized was Michelin Moses, a big-name musician who’d guest starred on Perfect Harmony, the a cappella show Trevor and his college group were on last summer, and Michelin was also a producer on this show.
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