by HJ Welch
Reyse just wanted to give the guy some first aid and try and help him keep his job. And if he got to enjoy a few minutes of that beautiful smile, well, that was a little indulgence Reyse could keep to himself, right?
The guy smiled and nodded. “Dude, thanks,” he said. “Okay, sure.”
Reyse’s heart leaped and he offered out his hand. The guy clasped it with his own and Reyse helped pull him off the sidewalk. His skin was warm and slightly calloused. It sent shivers down Reyse’s spine.
Mercifully the crowd fanned out a little, giving them some room to stand among the pizza. Reyse felt a bit guilty leaving a mess, but a couple of stray dogs had already weaved between the crowd’s legs and were having a feast on all the cheese-covered pepperoni and ground beef, so he figured he’d let them enjoy it.
“Thanks, folks,” he called out, shielding his face as he began to walk with the pizza guy by his side. “Thank you so much. Enjoy your night.”
He expected at least a couple of them to follow, but for once he had a bit of luck. This particular gaggle seemed content to just snap photos and record them as the two walked away. The guy, rather sensibly, pulled his cap down to mostly cover his face.
“I’m Corey, by the way,” the pizza guy said, bringing Reyse’s attention back to him. He smiled and Reyse smiled back.
“Nice to be rescued by you, Corey,” Reyse said. “I’m Reyse.” Then he felt like a jerk. Of course he was Reyse.
He fully expected the guy – Corey – to say ‘I know.’
“Nice to rescue you, Reyse,” Corey said instead with that lopsided grin.
Reyse’s heart fluttered. Even if this was just a brief encounter, it was worth it. Well, not Corey’s bruised face. But that smile?
Yeah, Reyse was going to remember that long after Corey was gone.
4
Corey
On one hand, Corey had actually been fired this time. Ross had hit the fucking roof when Corey had called to say he’d been involved in an almost mugging and lost another stack of pizzas. Ross had told him not to come back under any circumstances and to expect what was left of his paycheck in the mail after this order was docked from it too.
On the other, he had just stepped from an elevator directly into Reyse Hickson’s penthouse apartment.
Corey was trying so hard not to be a jerk, because, honestly, Reyse – Reyse! He was calling him Reyse like a buddy or some shit! – was being really quite sweet to him. But fucking hell, the dude was always on TV and magazine covers. Corey had jerked off to him in the ‘Deny Me’ video several times.
But he wasn’t looking at some famous spank bank material now. He was looking at a cute guy who seemed far more concerned about getting a bag of frozen peas on Cory’s face than anything else.
“Come in, come in,” Reyse said, leading the way as the elevator doors slid shut behind Corey. They hadn’t really spoken on the short walk over while Corey had been calling his work. It seemed like Reyse was kind of nervous. “I haven’t had anyone over in ages,” he said, proving Corey’s point. “Well, except…”
Except reporters, Corey mentally supplied.
“It’s fucking sweet,” Corey said, glossing over the pause. He meant it, too.
Gleaming wooden floorboards stretched over the open-plan apartment with thick, dark gray rugs spread under white, black and silver furniture. Art deco-style pendant lights hung in intervals from wooden beams that stretched across the ceiling. Opposite the elevator door were floor-to-ceiling windows, showing the view of the sun setting over Los Angeles from the twelfth floor through slightly tinted glass. If Corey had to guess, he would say the glass was mirrored on the other side to stop nosy reporters and bloggers from looking in with long lenses.
Three large paintings hung on one of the walls. Corey wasn’t sure what they were of, but they were each in rich jewel tones of teal, jade and sapphire mixed with purples and pinks. They made him think of blazing sunsets over beaches, although they could equally have just been strips of color painted with thick, textured oils.
Corey followed Reyse toward his chrome kitchen, finally taking off his baseball hat and leaning on the breakfast bar that separated the area from the rest of the living room. They passed a TV so large it was practically a movie screen and a couple of floating shelves filled with trophies.
Corey had been back to people’s places where they had college sports trophies on display or accolades from work. There was one slightly odd guy who’d had his ninth-grade spelling bee award still up for anyone to see. But these were actual Grammys. MTV moon men. BRIT Awards.
When Corey glanced from the shelves back to Reyse at the fridge, Corey knew Reyse had seen him staring. “Sorry,” Corey said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to snoop.”
Reyse shook his head and opened the freezer. “You weren’t snooping,” he said as he removed a bag of peas and wrapped it in a dishcloth. He smiled as he closed the door and approached Corey with the cold compress. “They’re there to be seen. I figured you knew who I was.”
Corey swallowed and accepted the veggies to place over his left eye. He couldn’t help but sigh. “That feels amazing, thanks,” he said. He licked his lips and looked at Reyse in front of him with his good eye.
He was unbelievably beautiful in person. This close, Corey felt like he was going to drown in those big baby-blue eyes. His blond hair looked like it was a dozen subtle different shades, all catching the light at different times. Corey wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through. Soft, from how well conditioned it appeared. His skin glowed like a newborn infant or perhaps a god fresh from Mount Olympus. His perfectly sculpted slim body clad in a tight gray T-shirt and faded blue jeans was certainly divine.
Fucking hell, Corey needed to ease off the metaphors. He’d seen gorgeous guys before. But…well, there was something catching him in the way Reyse was glancing at him.
Was there something there?
Surely not. He was dating that English actress, wasn’t he? Or was it that presenter? In any case, it was no concern of Corey’s. He was simply here because he had the misfortune to get in the middle of a mugging.
It hit him that he’d saved Reyse Hickson’s phone. That was pretty cool.
Except he didn’t want to think of Reyse like that. He was just a guy standing in his own kitchen, feeling awkward with a stranger.
A mad urge took over Corey. He didn’t want to be a stranger to Reyse.
“Yeah,” he said, finally addressing Reyse’s comment about knowing who he was. “I kind of spotted who you were. It was hard not to. But I don’t care about that, man. I care that the shithead didn’t steal your phone.”
Reyse let out a breath and smiled. His teeth were perfect and so white. “Thank you. I’m serious. Fuck knows what they could have released if they got a hold of my information.” He pulled the phone from his pocket and placed it on the counter. “I texted my manager to let him know I’m not dead.” He laughed. “But…did I hear you lost your job anyway?”
Corey shrugged and leaned on the breakfast bar. “That job sucked,” he said with a chuckle. “Fuck it. I’ll find another one.”
Truthfully, he knew he was pretty screwed. But he couldn’t seem to tap into that same panic he’d had the other night. Probably because he swore he could feel…what going on here? It was as if he could taste something in the air between him and Reyse. Like the crackle of electricity just before a storm.
Reyse was holding the freezer door, running his fingers over the handle and biting his lip. He looked uncomfortable. Before Corey could speak again and try and reassure him it was fine, he suddenly spoke.
“Would it be really weird if I wrote you a check?” Reyse asked. His cheeks went the faintest shade of pink and he rolled his eyes, laughing nervously. “Fuck, that probably sounds so awful and one-percenter. But I don’t know if you know how much you saved my ass, and it would make me sleep so much better knowing I’d given you something to tide you over until you got another job, not just for t
he pizza you lost.”
Corey blinked.
Reyse was right. That should have sounded like a total dick move. But Corey’s chest tightened. It was thoughtful as fuck, was what it was.
“Would I be a terrible person if I said that sounded awesome?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Reyse’s face lit up and he let go of the freezer door. “No, no at all.” He laughed and visibly relaxed. “Holy crap, thank you. I’ll grab my checkbook. Hey – do you want a beer? Or – oh, do you need to get somewhere?” His face fell a little. It was ridiculous the warm feeling Corey got in his chest from not disappointing him.
“Man, I just got fired,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “I’m free as a bird. A beer sounds fantastic.”
Yeah. Bringing that smile back made his heart squeeze just a fraction, but it also affected Corey in his pants. Which was fine, so long as he didn’t run away with anything. He was allowed to crush a tiny bit on an international sex symbol.
“I’ll be right back,” Reyse promised as he placed an opened beer in front of Corey, taking one for himself as he moved toward what looked like a bedroom. “Make yourself comfy, if you want.” He grinned and disappeared through his bedroom door.
Corey bit his lip. “Stop it,” he growled quietly to himself. Smiling too much was bad for his face, anyway.
The bag of peas was definitely helping, though. He placed it on the counter for a second as he removed his leather jacket and kicked off his boots, leaving him in a white T-shirt and black pants. He checked his socks had no holes in them – they weren’t matching but they were intact – and he ruffled his hair. As he sat back down, he found himself grateful that he’d parked his bike somewhere safe for the evening.
He was in no hurry to go anywhere.
Was he insane? If this was just an ordinary guy, Corey would put his money on getting interested vibes from Reyse right now. Maybe not gay – maybe he was bi like Corey? Reyse had dated girls in the past, after all. Maybe, like Corey, he preferred guys. Maybe he preferred girls and Corey was just lucky?
Corey snorted. He was not getting lucky. That was way beyond the realm of possibility. He needed to just chill and enjoy his damn beer and a bit of fun company. If he wanted to think about good fortune, then perhaps he might get to hang out with a superstar in his crazily gorgeous apartment for a while. That would be a cool story to tell for years to come. The night lowly Corey Sheppard saved the Reyse Hickson from being mugged and potentially blackmailed. That was kind of nuts.
“Sorry, it wasn’t where I left it,” Reyse said.
He came back out to the kitchen with his checkbook in hand. He waved it at Corey before placing it on the counter along with his beer. Then he slid a pen out from the holder built into the leather checkbook case. It didn’t look like it had come from Walmart like the pens Corey usually used. He wondered how much a pen like that cost.
“So, that’s Corey, right?” Reyse prompted him.
Corey nodded and spelled it for him. “Last name’s Sheppard.” Corey glanced to make sure he spelled that correctly too, then looked away as Reyse filled out the amount. Corey felt okay letting Reyse help him out, but to watch him write by how much felt greedy. He didn’t even look once Reyse tore off the check and handed it over. He just folded the slip of paper and put it in his pants pocket.
Unfortunately, Reyse seemed awkward again. He glanced back down at the checkbook, like he’d done something dirty, when all he’d done was help Corey out big-time. But there still felt like a huge imbalance between them.
“I’m allergic to apples,” Corey blurted out.
Reyse looked back up at him and blinked. “Huh?” he said.
Corey grinned. “I’m allergic to apples. They make my tongue itch and my lips sore. I was forced into a middle school production of the Wizard of Oz to earn extra credit and I was so nervous the first night I puked on stage. I like anything that goes fast and feel like I spend more on my bike than I do on rent. I don’t really like Christmas but I fucking love Halloween.”
Reyse frowned slightly, but he was also smiling. “Okay,” he said. “That’s – that’s cool,” he added, sounding like he meant it. “But…”
Corey tapped his beer bottle against the one Reyse was holding in his hand. “Now we’re friends. You know some things about me and I know some things about you. And it’s okay for friends to help each other out, especially if they really fucking appreciate it.”
Reyse gave a little laugh and looked down where their bottles had connected. “Okay,” he said again. But this time he sounded about ten times more relaxed.
He suddenly turned around to one of the cupboards behind him and pulled out a bag of jalapeño-flavored pretzel chunks. Then he fetched a bowl, two more cold beers, and dropped into the seat beside Corey.
“Oh, that’s what I’m talking about,” Corey said with a grin. He took the pretzel bag without pause and ripped it open, dumping them into the bowl that Reyse pushed between them. “So, you like spicy things?”
Reyse crunched on a pretzel piece and shrugged. “I like most food,” he admitted. “Although I have to work out like a motherfucker if I eat whatever I want.” He rolled his eyes. “A lot of the time it’s just less exhausting to have a salad or plain chicken and vegetables.” He nodded at the frozen peas, starting to melt slightly on the bar. “How’s your face feeling?”
Corey nodded and took another drink. “Much better, thank you. Shall I put those back?”
Reyse shook his head. “Nah, I have loads, and they’ve been on your face now.”
Corey gasped in shock. “Rude,” he said playfully. “I have a beautiful face.”
“Yeah, but-”
Reyse seemed to realize what he’d said. He coughed and took another sip of beer.
Interesting. Was he embarrassed because that sounded vaguely gay…or because he actually thought Corey was good looking in an actual gay way?
Corey had led an eventful life. One that had left him with the rock-solid belief that you should live for the moment and not give a fuck about tomorrow, because who knew what would happen then? Life was too short to miss out on the things you really wanted.
God, Corey wanted Reyse Hickson. Not because he was famous. Because he was gorgeous and sweet and kind of a dork.
He touched the tip of his finger to the back of Reyse’s hand quickly, not even for a second. Extremely low-level flirting, just to test the waters. “What’s your ultimate guilty pleasure?” he asked. “Food wise,” he added for clarification with a flick of his eyebrows, although the double entendre was clear. “You must have eaten interesting stuff all over the world,” he said, laying on the innuendo.
Reyse laughed softly, rubbing his thumbs along the neck of the beer bottle. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what else he could be rubbing, and Corey shifted ever so slightly on his stool. At least Reyse wasn’t freaking out. In fact, from the shy smile on his lips, Corey couldn’t help but hope he was on the right track here.
“You know, in Japan they have like two hundred flavors of Kit-Kat,” Reyse said, still grinning.
He glanced at Corey, who smiled back at him. Fuck, he was having fun. He had that warm, tingly sensation in his chest that came with the possibility of an exciting development just on the horizon.
“Yeah?” he prompted.
Reyse nodded. “Like soya sauce and green tea and banana,” he said. “I always go a bit crazy when I’m there and fill my luggage with all the different kinds to last me until I go back.”
He picked at the corner of the label on his bottle, then reached for one of the fresh ones. Corey copied him and finished his first beer off, joining Reyse for a second. He was feeling more at home already in this enormous, lavish apartment.
“I booked an unnecessary stop off in London once,” Reyse continued, chuckling to himself. “Just because it was Creme Egg season and I had to get the real ones.” He waggled his eyebrows at Corey. “American chocolate tastes different than British. Did you know that
?”
Corey shook his head. “I’ve never left the country,” he admitted.
“No?” Reyse asked incredulously. There wasn’t any malice to the word, though. It must be hard for such a jet-setter to imagine, Corey thought.
“I don’t even have a passport,” Corey confessed. “I only leave the state if I go for a long ride on my bike.”
Reyse shook his head. “You really should, for the candy alone,” he joked.
Corey licked the beer and pretzel coating from his lips. “Sweet tooth, huh?” he asked.
Reyse blinked and grinned with a little nervous laugh, the pink tinge rising in his cheeks again. Yes, Corey thought. He was getting under Reyse’s skin in the best way.
“Me too,” Corey said. “That’s why Halloween is my favorite. The candy. That, and getting to pretend to be someone else for a whole night.”
“What’s wrong with being you?” Reyse asked.
Corey shrugged. “Me is kind of boring,” he said with a laugh.
But Reyse didn’t laugh. “I don’t think you’re boring,” he said quietly.
“No?” Corey asked. His heart rate sped up, just a fraction.
Reyse shook his head. “Why don’t you like Christmas?” he asked instead of elaborating. “Christmas has candy too.”
“Ah,” Corey said softly. It was his turn to pick at his beer label. “It helps if you have a family at Christmas. Otherwise it’s kind of a suck-fest.”
When Reyse didn’t respond right away, Corey looked back up. Reyse was toying with a particularly large chunk of pretzel. “I spent the last three Christmases on entirely different continents,” he said softly.
Before he could stop himself, Corey reached out and laid his hand over Reyse’s.
Reyse let the pretzel piece go.
“I always thought being famous might be kind of lonely,” Corey said truthfully.
Reyse nodded. Then he laughed ruefully and looked at the ceiling. He hadn’t removed his hand from under Corey’s yet. Corey rubbed the top of his wrist with his thumb.
