by Lily Harlem
Perfect.
I knew the people who mattered at Armani would love this. It was pure masculinity, an elite athlete unconcerned by the elements. Highly trained and as tough as they came—and the aftershave he was promoting was, after all, called Raw.
“That’s it. We’re good to go,” I shouted, quickly turning from the wind and sheltering my exorbitantly expensive lens. “Let’s pack up and get out of this bloody storm.”
I glanced at Todd as he stepped down from his platform, the hockey stick swinging at his side and his eyes narrowed against the driving weather. He walked with a casual swagger while others rushed about. The guy was a machine. He just didn’t seem to feel the cold or be bothered by the battering wind the way everyone else was.
Lara, one of my assistants, dashed up to him with his t-shirt, jacket and a large purple umbrella. He took the t-shirt and jacket with a dazzling smile but didn’t put either on. He waved away the offer of the umbrella.
“You get what you needed, Matthew?” he asked as he stepped up to me.
“Yeah, great. I was happy anyway, but that squall gave some real natural shots. They’ll be pleased.”
“Thank fuck for that. I couldn’t take another day of standing about doing nothing but grinning.” He laughed again, tugged on his t-shirt and shrugged into his jacket. “I’ve done enough modeling to last a lifetime.”
“You can’t complain at the pay packet, though,” I said, turning toward the doorway of the museum and stepping into the dryness.
He followed. “Yeah, but I’d rather be fighting it out on the ice for my bread and butter than being fussed by hair and makeup.”
“Not your thing then?”
“No. The guys will give me seven shades of shit when the ad hits the billboards.”
Now out of the elements, I paused and studied him. Far from looking disheveled, he looked even more gorgeous. Seriously, it was a crime against mankind that he wasn’t in the slightest bit gay. Todd Carty was the type of guy who should be shared about, between both men and women. Being available to only one gender was nothing short of unfair.
“So you done for the day?” he asked, shoving at the brown leather sleeve of his jacket and snapping on a large silver Rolex.
“Yep, these guys can pack up. I’ll head home and download. Get ready for Monday’s presentation to the board.”
“Home to the Village?” He gave the lopsided grin I’d become used to after several weeks of photographing him. It was a beautiful grin, a smile that made recipients feel as though they were the center of his universe. Luckily for me the effect was just as devastating in pixels as it was in real life and had made my job as a photographer incredibly easy.
“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll walk today,” I said.
“No way. Hey, I got that rental I was telling you about on West 12th. The cool loft place. I figured if I’m going to live in New York City then I want to live where the action is.”
“You could do worse. Since I left England I’ve only lived in Greenwich Village. Must be six years now. I love it.”
“Yeah, you said.” He paused. “I’d just had my place in Florida redecorated, barely slept in it before I moved.”
I pulled a sympathetic face and wondered what lucky girl had shared his bed on those few nights.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“Mmm, about what?” I’d been so immersed in thoughts of Todd with a twist of white sheets around his long, muscled legs that I hadn’t heard what he’d said.
“Only if you want to.”
“Want to what?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Grab a beer. Something to eat. I’m starving and as we’re heading the same way…”
A lovely warm feeling grew in my belly. Spend more time with Todd. Oh, yeah! “Sure. I know a quiet place.” As soon as I said it I regretted it. “But you probably don’t want quiet. How about uptown? You wanna go somewhere more fancy?”
He shook his head and several drops of water sparkled in his hair. “No, quiet is good. I’m playing tomorrow so don’t want a wild night.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll just tell my staff I’m leaving.”
The last thing Todd Carty wanted was a wild night, but of course he’d be perfectly safe with me because hunting for women wasn’t on my to-do list. Never had been and never would be.
A short taxi ride later and we were settled in a dark corner of Timmy’s, my favorite café bar. The seats were plush and comfortable, the booths private and the food was always excellent. Not to mention it was right across from the entrance to my building and, Todd told me, just one block from his.
“Cheers,” Todd said, clinking the rim of his bottle of beer against mine. “Here’s to the end of the Armani thing.”
I laughed and took a swig. “Was it that painful?”
“Yeah, but you were cool and I appreciate that.” He grinned and reached for the menu. “What’s good here?”
“The burger with double cheese with extra bacon. It comes with fries, onion rings and slaw and I’m gonna treat myself.”
“Mm, I’ll go with that, too.” He sat back and folded his arms.
I struggled not to stare at the way his red t-shirt strained around his biceps. It was nothing short of beautiful how his muscles swelled and his skin glowed with a lingering Florida tan.
“So what other things do you treat yourself to?” He waggled his eyebrows a little, as though wanting me to reveal something naughty about myself. “We’ve talked about me before but I don’t know much about you.”
“Not much to know.” I ran my hand over my short, blunt hair. I’d had it cut yesterday and I liked how it felt when it was super-cropped. Smooth on the downward stroke, sharp on the upward.
He tipped his head, encouraging me to go on.
I sighed. “Mm, let me see, I adore Central Park in the spring, I love to walk with my camera and snap away at New Yorkers enjoying the first rays of sunshine.” I paused. “And the Guggenheim is my favorite place to hang out on a Sunday afternoon. It keeps my inspiration ticking along, there’s always something new there.”
Helen, one of the regular waitresses, appeared. “Hey, Matthew,” she said with a quick glance my way then a lingering one over Todd. “What can I get you guys to eat?” She flashed a wide smile and I noticed she’d applied strawberry-red lipstick in the interim between seating us and coming to take our order. There was also a hint of fresh, flowery perfume in the air.
“Hi,” Todd said with a smile. “We’ll both go for the double cheeseburger with extra bacon.”
“Fries?”
“Yep, all the extras,” he said and returned his attention to me. “You want another drink?”
“No, I’m good.”
Helen scribbled in her pad then looked once more at Todd.
“Thanks,” I said, when she appeared nailed to the floor. “That’s everything.”
“Oh, err, yes, of course.” She took a step backward and melted into the restaurant.
“Go on,” Todd said, shifting the menus to one side. “What else do you enjoy?”
I laughed. “Probably not things you want to know about.”
“Try me.”
I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth. “Well, I’ve followed the Pittsburgh Penguins since I went to see them a few years ago.”
He banged his beer on the table, rattling the cutlery and turning a few heads our way. “What? The Penguins, they’re a team of girls.”
“I don’t think you can call Sid Gatsby a girl.”
“I fucking can, the jerk high-sticked me last season then whined to the ref when I took him out against the Plexi ten minutes later.”
“He was the youngest team captain in history, scored all my favorite goals and that’s before we even mention the Olympics.”
“Fuck. I wouldn’t have asked you to dinner if I’d known you were a Penguins fan.”
There was a teasing sparkle in his eyes and I grinned, enjoying our banter. “Well, he’s not playing at
the moment so I’ll have to find myself a new favorite player.”
Like you.
“How about supporting your home team? The Rangers are good.”
“So I’ve heard, but I’ve never seen them play.”
“But you live in New York City.” He shook his head. “I’ll have a ticket at the door for you tomorrow. It kicks off at seven-thirty, make sure you’re there.”
I raised my eyebrows and grinned. “Really?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. I guarantee you’ll switch your allegiance.”
The thought of watching Todd do his stuff on the ice, in real life and not on the screen, had my heart thumping. Ever since that first game I’d been to I’d had a thing for hockey players. It was true that Sid had been my number one for several years, but over the last few weeks that had changed to Todd Carty. Whatever team he played for would be my team from now on.
And it wasn’t because Todd was the only player I’d ever met in the flesh or that he had by far the most gorgeous face and body in the NHL. It was because he was a really nice, down-to-earth guy. Our conversations had been fun and witty, he was passionate about his hockey but also chatty about a million other topics. Plus, he always made me feel as though he was really listening to me, unlike many celebrities I’d worked with who were self-obsessed and blinkered within their own vain worlds. Todd had that rare ability to make people feel special in his presence.
“And dress warm or you’ll freeze your butt off,” he said, leaning back as our meals arrived.
I smiled my thanks to Helen and sprinkled salt on my fries. “And what about you?” I asked. “What do you do apart from hockey and women?”
He gave a snort of laughter and munched on an onion ring. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
“So you don’t have a thing for rink babes then?”
“They have a thing for me, and hey, I’m a guy, I’ve got needs. Who am I to say no?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I like to party,” he said. “But staying home with a friend and a movie is cool, too. Drinking champagne from gorgeous women’s navels gets old.”
“I’ve never had the pleasure.” Or wanted to. “So do you have someone special to curl up on the sofa with?”
He chomped into his burger and nodded his approval at the flavor.
“Did you leave someone behind in Florida?” I asked. I needed an answer, had for a while. Did he have a beautiful woman who worshipped his body whenever she got the chance? Made him come loud and with abandon? Bought kinky presents for him, naughty surprises and erotic delights?
He sighed and set down his food. “There was someone I thought it might happen with but it wasn’t the case. They loved someone else.” He paused. “Moving up here was the clean break I needed, even though it was sudden.”
I had an urge to reach out and cover his hand with mine, to try to take away some of the sadness in his eyes. But I didn’t, instead I gripped my bottle of beer and took a swig to prevent myself from doing something foolish.
“We’re still in touch,” he said. “As friends.” His gaze trapped mine and he gave a slightly strained smile. “What about you? No wedding ring, no bride to be?”
I laughed. “Nope, no ring and definitely no bride. For me that’s never going to happen.”
He picked up his burger again. “You got a problem with marriage or something?”
I took a deep breath and willed my heart to stop its crazy stuttering. The question was out there so it had to be faced. I only hoped the answer wouldn’t destroy our fledgling friendship or result in my invitation to the game tomorrow night being revoked. “No, not at all. I just have a problem with marrying a woman.”
He paused, mouth open, not quite biting into his burger. His gaze snared mine and I returned it steadily. Telling people I was gay was no big deal. I’d been gay for as long as I could remember and it was a part of who I was. But this was different somehow. I wasn’t sure if it was because Todd was famous or because I fancied the ass off him. Either way his reaction to a huge part of who I was had suddenly become desperately important.
“You’re gay?” he asked, putting the burger down and looking at me as though seeing me for the first time. Which I guessed, in a way, he was.
I shrugged. “Yep, always have been, always will be.”
He reached for his beer and took a long pull. When he took it away from his lips it made a slight popping sound.
I tried to look blasé, stabbed at several fries and shoved them into my mouth. Munched slowly.
“I didn’t know,” he said, reaching for his burger again and finally taking that bite.
My heart slowed a fraction. Good, he was still sitting in the booth, eating. If he was a real homophobe he would have walked by now. But I hadn’t actually thought he was. He seemed too at ease with his own sexuality, too chilled to be offended by someone’s preference for satisfying urges.
“Why would you have known?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“’Cause I don’t walk on my toes, curl my hair or add darling to every other sentence?”
He laughed, but only for a split second, almost as if he needed to in order to be polite. I guess he and I both knew there was nothing girly about the way I held myself.
A long silence stretched between us. We both ate. We both drank.
“You always have been?” he repeated eventually. “What, so like you knew from being a kid?”
“Well, not a kid, but once I hit my teens and started getting crushes I only ever thought of guys. My first crush was on Randy Hunter. We were both fourteen. He went out with Martha Turlington, and I used to hang around with him and listen to him mooning over her, talking about what he wanted to do with her, and all the time I wanted to do those things with him.” I stole a glance at Todd, who was leaning forward, elbows on the table and a slight frown creasing his forehead. “I never did get it together with him. In fact, I never even had a boyfriend until I was out of college. Shy, I guess.”
“So you’ve never been with a woman?”
I gave a tight laugh. “No, and I don’t think I could, you know, get it up for a woman.” I shifted on my seat, just talking about getting it up when I was sitting opposite a sex god was giving me a semi.
“Really,” he said. “But you must have worked with a whole bunch of supermodels.”
“Believe me, it wouldn’t be one of those divas that did it for me even if I wasn’t gay.”
Again he was silent, and then, “So you don’t feel like you’ve missed out by never experiencing a wet and willing pussy?”
I snorted at his vivid description. “Not at all, but I guess I can see how some people would think I have. But for me I’m one hundred percent gay, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even ninety-nine, but one hundred percent, through and through, right to the core.”
“I’ve often wondered if there are degrees of gayness.”
“Sure, why not? There are degrees of everything else in human nature—humor, fear, intelligence, why not in sexuality, too?”
He nodded slowly. “Mm, I think you’re right.”
I knew I was. It was a topic discussed often enough over the years with friends who were gay, straight and in-between.
“So no special guy in your life?” he asked, placing his knife and fork parallel. There were a few salad leaves left on his plate.
“No. Tony and I split over a year ago. After four years and neither of us wanting to make a commitment we called it a day. We loved each other but not enough.” Sort of the truth. I’d loved him enough but he hadn’t me. But I didn’t need to wave a newly repaired heart around, the stitches were still fresh. Besides, no one liked a whiner.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too, but it was the right decision. We did the best thing and I know he’s happier for it.”
“And you?” He moved his hand over the table toward mine, but then stopped and curled his fingers into a fist.
“My career is flying hi
gh. Hell, I have that exhibition I was telling you about coming up.”
“Oh yeah, sounds great. Congratulations again on that.”
“Thanks.”
“But you haven’t answered my question,” he said, tilting his head and giving a gentle smile.
“I guess I’m like you, and probably everyone else, I would like a special person to share my life with.” I hesitated, wishing I was the one-night-stand kind of guy many of my friends were so I could ease my aloneness once in a while. But I wasn’t, I just hadn’t been emotionally wired that way. One-night stands left me empty and drained. It had been years since I’d put myself through that for a few hours of physical pleasure. “But I haven’t dated since Tony.”
But I would date you in a heartbeat.
Todd shifted on the seat and pulled his wallet from his back jeans pocket. He signaled for the check. “I’m sure our special someones are out there, Matthew.”
I wiped my lips with my napkin. “Who knows, maybe I’ll sit next to some ripped hunk at the hockey tomorrow night.”
“Is that your type?” He cocked his eyebrows and one corner of his mouth twitched.
“If you mean muscles and good looks then yeah, that’s my type.”
He dropped some bills on the table and gave a gruff laugh. “In that case I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Two
I caught a cab to the Garden and spent the trip daydreaming about Todd. Two hours after our meal last night a ticket had turned up via courier at my door. There was a note with it saying that if I had the ticket in my hand there was no reason for me not to go and discover the real team I should be supporting.
Okay, so Todd wasn’t gay, and no matter how many lusty thoughts I had about him, that wasn’t going to change. But we could be friends. He was new to the city and although he had teammates, it would surely be good to have acquaintances outside of his profession to give him a break from work, work, work.
After the ticket had arrived I’d gone through all the Armani shots, studying them late into the night. There were so many great ones to choose from and I didn’t envy the marketing guys who had the final decision.
