Love Him Free: Book One of On The Market

by Lindsey, E. M.

  Simon felt like collapsing in on himself. Rocco had never once made him feel like his signing wasn’t good enough, or fluent enough, even if he knew it wasn’t perfect. He never felt like there was a barrier, but now…

  “I mean, of course he doesn’t care with his flavor of the week. I mean, it’s not important since this isn’t long term,” Eric said with a laugh. Simon’s eyes went wide, and Eric shot him a look of pity again. “You know that’s what this is, right? He does this every fucking time we break up. God, he took this little twink model who didn’t know his ABCs to the Caribbean a couple years ago when I threatened to move out. Spent a month making that boy’s dreams come true before he came home. He’s such a diva.”

  And well…that wasn’t a lie. Simon had known that about Rocco since before they met. He’d seen the pictures on Twitter, had watched a couple of videos. But Rocco hadn’t looked at that guy the way he looked at Simon. He needed to believe that, even if his resolve was slowly cracking. “I’m not going to speak on his behalf, but it seems weird that you’re here a few days after posting your engagement on Twitter. To his agent.”

  Eric drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “Rocco and I are both impulsive, and we can both get a little mean. He knows it’s not serious.”

  “Does he?” Simon asked.

  At that, Eric laughed. “When he got home from his little island getaway, he bought me a Porsche, sweetie. Then he sucked my dick until I cried, told me I was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, and he begged me never to leave him again. It’s just…our thing. It’s not personal. You seem really nice and this whole thing is so unfair. He shouldn’t dick you around like this.”

  Maybe if Simon was a better person—or less anxious, or he had managed to start his therapy sooner—none of what Eric was saying would have mattered. But the guy was smart—and maybe…God, maybe he was right. Maybe this was all some sort of game for Rocco to make himself feel better until Eric apologized.

  It’s not like Simon had anything on the guy. It was obvious that between them, Eric was Swarovski crystal and Simon was a dandelion growing between spaces in the sidewalk. Eric was rich, and beautiful, and he understood the world Rocco lived in. And he spoke his language better than Simon could hope to. He felt like such an idiot.

  “Rocco’s getting pizza,” he heard himself say, startled that it wasn’t obvious in his tone that this man had taken an atom bomb to is entire life. “If you really think he’s interested in hearing your apology, you can go find him.”

  Eric lifted a brow. “He can’t hear it, he’s Deaf.”

  Simon snorted before grabbing his keys and backing up. “If you think ears are the only thing used to hear what people are saying—you have a lot to learn. It was nice to meet you, Eric. I hope you enjoy the market.”

  He didn’t text Rocco after that, he didn’t look up, he didn’t run, he didn’t stop. He just walked. He walked until he reached his car, and then he drove. He made his way into his apartment and locked the door, and managed to reach the sofa as cat Rocco found him and curled up in his arms.

  He didn’t cry, in spite of the way it felt like he’d been flayed open. If he closed his eyes, he knew he’d picture Eric approaching Rocco—the fight, their hands flying, the passion simmering between them.

  And Rocco would hold Eric the way he’d held Simon, wouldn’t he? And he’d kiss him the same. He’d forgive him. He’d go home.

  Right?

  His phone buzzed, so he turned it off.

  He didn’t really know what Rocco was going to do, but at the moment, he wasn’t brave enough to ask. It was easier to close his eyes, hold his cat tight, and wait for the world to pass him by.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rocco made his way back through the sparse crowd, knowing Simon was probably ready to pack it all in and head home. The stall had been nearly cleaned out before he’d gone for food, but more that, he could see it in Simon’s face.

  They hadn’t gone too deep into Simon’s past, but Rocco knew enough to know that his boyfriend probably suffered from at least complex PTSD, if not something else that triggered his anxiety. Simon had been dipping his toes outside his world of baking and holing up in his apartment just before Rocco arrived in Cherry Creek, but he knew it was a process.

  He knew that doing filming and going on dates, and running a booth wasn’t going to cure Simon. He was well aware his boyfriend would never fit in the life Rocco lived back in Malibu. The best part about that, though, was Rocco liked the idea of abandoning ship. He liked having this escape, and he felt absolutely no draw to head back to the total chaos from his past. He wasn’t ready to give up his job, but he had options, but he was more than willing to commute once his shit with Xander was sorted out.

  Rocco reached the booth, then paused with a frown when he realized it was empty. Simon’s bag and the cash drawer were gone, but the empty, leftover bins were still stacked along the side. Setting the pizza and drinks down, Rocco dragged a hand through his hair, then spun around and narrowed his eyes at the crowd.

  He didn’t see Simon, but the blacksmith, Birdie, was watching him from across the way with a look on his face like he might know. Rocco didn’t waste any time walking up. ‘Did you see Simon?’

  Birdie bit his lower lip. ‘He took off. Some guy walked up to him and Simon looked…’ Birdie’s hand wavered in the air. ‘Afraid,’ he finished. ‘The guy started signing something really fast, then laughed at Simon. Simon took off after that.’

  Rocco blanched. ‘What did he look like?’

  At that, Birdie laughed. ‘Pretty. Nice clothes, dark blonde hair, sunglasses. Attractive.’

  Rocco didn’t want to believe it—refused to consider that Eric would actually drive down here, but there was no other reason—no other person—that could send Simon rushing off without a word to Rocco.

  He pulled out his phone and shot him a quick text, Are you at home? He said thanks to the other man, then walked back toward the booth and stared at the remnants of what had been such a successful night. He had signed with strangers, and with some of Simon’s acquaintances. People were interested, and they were excited. He gave away cookies, and then hugs when he ran out of sweets. Simon had sold his booth empty.

  And now he was gone, because maybe Eric was there—or Xander. Maybe they had showed up to fuck everything up all over again. Rocco pulled out his phone a second time, opened his contacts, then stared at Eric’s contact. He hadn’t bothered to communicate with him since Eric dumped him on social media, and he didn’t want to start now, but he was worried. He thumbed up a few letters, then down, and pressed on Lorenzo’s name.

  Rocco: can u do me favor, see if Eric in Cherry Creek?

  He shoved his phone into his pocket, abandoned the pizzas, then gathered up the bins and walked across the lawn toward the petting zoo where James had spent his day. Spencer was there, but Max was nowhere to be found, and in his stead was a very tall, broad man with greying brown hair and a thick beard. He had both arms around Spencer’s waist, and he was speaking into his ear, making the younger man smile.

  God. Rocco’s heart ached. He wanted nothing more than to hold Simon like that—but he could only imagine what Simon had been told if the man really was Eric.

  Spencer saw his approach and broke away from the older man, walking over to the little pen off to the side. James was there sleeping on a pillow, and he rose obediently, his little tail wagging as Rocco approached.

  It was like being able to breathe, cuddling his dog close, and he rose, taking out his phone to tap on his notepad app. ‘Thanks 4 watch him. Need 2 find Simon. U take these bins? Belong 2 bakery.’

  Spencer read the screen, then nodded and looked behind him at the older man who was watching the exchange. When he realized he had Rocco’s attention, he walked over and motioned for the phone.

  ‘I’m Collin, Simon’s friend. You must be Rocco. Everything okay?’

  Before Rocco could type, he saw Spencer’s lips move presumably in expl
anation, and Collin’s frown deepened.

  ‘Let me call him,’ Collin offered, and Rocco nodded, feeling a rush of relief as the man pulled out his own phone and pressed it to his ear. It lasted only a second, though, and he tapped on the keyboard, ‘Straight to v-mail. He must have it off.’

  Fuck. Fuck. There was no way to deny who had done this. If they were back home, Rocco would know who to get in touch with. He’d have an army of pissed off friends behind him to kick down Eric’s door and make him pay for fucking up the one good thing Rocco had managed to get out of that whole mess. But he had no idea where Eric could even be. He might not even be staying in Cherry Creek—though if he was, there was only one place.

  His phone buzzed and he jolted before lighting up the screen and finding his brother’s name there.

  Lorenzo: He went on a road trip, so yes, he’s probably on his way to you. Need help?

  Rocco: Nope. Talk 2U LR.

  Rocco signed his thanks to Collin and Spencer, then held James tight as he walked back across the grass toward the food trucks. He knew Levi was probably still there, and with any luck, James. He was single-minded and ready to fuck some shit up, and that’s when he almost tumbled head-first into Charlie who was walking Pumpkin on her leash.

  Rocco righted himself, ready with an apology as he looked up at Charlie and his companion—a kid who couldn’t have been more than twenty, if that. He was attractive though, with sharp eyes and a set jaw, and he moved a step closer to Charlie like he was ready to take Rocco on.

  It might have been funny, if Rocco wasn’t half out of his mind with anger and worry. ‘Sorry,’ he signed.

  Then he realized Charlie was the exact man he needed. He held up one finger, and when Charlie nodded, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed through his photo album. It wasn’t hard to find a full-faced shot of Eric, and he felt his stomach clench at the sight of him.

  With a breath, he showed Charlie his screen, then waited to get the other man’s attention again. He pointed to the screen, then spelled, ‘My Ex.’ Charlie nodded when he understood. ‘At your hotel?’

  Charlie mouthed along with the letters, then shook his head and circled his fist over his chest. ‘Sorry.’

  Rocco tapped open his notepad. ‘If u c him, pls tell me. His name Eric and I think here. I think he said something 2 Simon bc he left and can’t find him.’

  Charlie’s look was full of sympathy, but no real knowledge, and that did make him feel a little better that Eric had only inflicted his bullshit on one person—but he hated that the one person was Simon. Charlie gave him a firm nod, then reached out and squeezed his arm. The look Charlie’s companion gave him was possessive, but more curious than angry, but Rocco didn’t have it in him to wonder. Not now.

  He waved a goodbye to Charlie, stopping to give Pumpkin a quick pat, then started on his way to the bakery. With any luck, Simon would be there, but if not, he was happy to stand vigil until his lover got back.

  * * *

  Rocco was shut out. The door that led to the stairs up to the apartment was locked, and as much as he wanted to think he could wait all night, he had James to think about. He rang the buzzer enough times that he knew it would irritate anyone inside, but when no one threw anything from the windows, and when no one came down, he realized his plan was futile.

  If Simon was up there, he wasn’t going to see him.

  The not knowing was going to drive him crazy. It was under his skin, and the only thing in the world he wanted was to take Simon in his arms and kiss him until he unearthed every seed of discord Eric had planted. He said a little prayer into the universe that Eric wouldn’t be brave enough to come near him soon, though, because Rocco was pretty sure he’d risk jail to get a few good punches in to his perfectly shaped nose.

  He let out a groan, then set James on the ground and turned to head home when there was movement behind him. Simon’s name was on his lips when he turned, but it was James, looking somewhat sheepish as he let himself out of the bakery and shut the door behind him.

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  James was holding a note, and he flinched when Rocco snatched it out of his hands. ‘Simon doesn’t want to talk right now. Levi is up there with him, and Simon said he’d text you in the morning. He asked me to give you a ride home.’

  Rocco bit his lip and swallowed past a lump in his throat. But at the very least, he loved Simon enough to comply with his wishes. It was only fair, after all. He handed the note back and nodded, but he was in no mood to have a full conversation with human James, and he was in no mood for an awkward drive back to the rental.

  “Tell Simon I’ll speak to him soon. I’m going to walk.” He committed an impolite act that he used far too often on his brothers, and he turned his back. He had no idea if James called after him, but no one tried to stop him as he made his way to the main street, and he began the long journey back to the empty house.

  His feet ached by the time he got there, and James put up no fuss at all when Rocco ordered him into the crate. He set the latch and pulled a blanket over his baby, then collapsed in the master bedroom, lying on his stomach as he pulled his laptop close.

  His entire body craved comfort. It craved the warmth and softness of Simon against him—the one thing he wasn’t allowed to have right then. He wanted to stomp his feet and raise his voice and throw a full tantrum until he got his way, but he knew better.

  If this had been Rocco in a different life, even a year ago, he might have considered it. He might have pouted outside of the door, or wheedled James to let him up, then threw everything he had at Simon until the man gave in and let him in.

  But he was trying not to be that person. Simon made him want to be better—to explore the depths of himself he’d left hidden for more shallow waters that got him fame and money. He had the potential to be more than just a rich brat once upon a time, but it was just easier to give in to the lifestyle of the people around him.

  Now, he felt unfulfilled. Now, he felt like those years were wasted.

  With a sigh, Rocco curled his legs up and logged into his email to find a note from Anthony. ‘Making progress and if you lie low, we might be able to have a settlement ready. You’ll have to pay the fee, but due to Eric’s post on Twitter that went viral about the engagement, I’m pretty sure we can get them to dissolve any obligation between you and the firm because of conflict of interest. You can thank Eric for his fuck-up.’

  Rocco read the email once, then twice, then a third time. It made sense—it made absolute and total sense why Eric was there. He’d fucked up, and he’d cost Xander money. He was either under orders to make nice with Rocco, or Xander had dumped his ass for someone not so impulsive. Either way, Rocco wasn’t interested in what either of them had to say.

  He’d pay the stupid fucking fee to dissolve his contract with Xander’s company, he’d give them double middle fingers as he backed out the door, and he’d get on with life. Hopefully—presumably—with Simon in it. If it meant living here and flying to California to film, he’d do it.

  He had weeks to decide, maybe even months, though. He wanted to woo Simon. He wanted to romance the shit out of him until Simon couldn’t imagine being with another man. He wanted to turn his world upside down and make him fall as hard and as fast as Rocco was falling.

  He just…wanted Simon. He could be patient until morning, but he knew between now and then, it was going to be a damn long night.

  Chapter Twenty

  Simon was well aware he was sulking like a child, and he was well aware Levi was on the cusp of a full-on meltdown. He half expected his brother to throw a punch after the fourth time he refused to say anything.

  It was only when Rocco wouldn’t lay off the buzzer, and Levi threatened to let him up, that Simon relented. “His ex is here,” Simon told them both. His voice was hoarse from holding back tears, and he hugged himself tight around his middle. “He showed up at the fucking Market and cornered me in the booth.”

  Levi looked mu
rderous, but James—startlingly enough—look worried. “Is this guy violent or something?”

  Simon gave a weak shrug. “I don’t know much about him. I don’t know how he even knows—I mean Rocco must have told him he was here. Which means they’ve been talking.”

  Levi shook his head. “Maybe, but Simon—this is new for you, and I can tell you from experience that Rocco doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”

  “He wasn’t lying though,” Simon blurted. He remembered Rocco’s Caribbean trip with some faceless guy. And how after it was over, he was publicly romantic and fawning all over Eric’s Twitter feed. Eric was a lot of things, but Simon didn’t think he was necessarily a liar. Rocco’s world was just so different, and Simon wasn’t sure he even belonged on the fringes.

  The buzzer continued to sound through the apartment, and Levi sighed, pressing fingers into his temples. “James, go down there and tell Rocco that Simon will call him tomorrow.”

  “Call him?” James asked.

  Levi rolled his eyes. “Text him—whatever. You know what the fuck I mean. Just…tell him Simon needs space, but it won’t be forever.”

  “Levi,” Simon started, but his brother cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

  The door slammed after a couple of minutes, and then the buzzing stopped. The brothers let out matching sighs of relief and Simon laid his head on the cushion. Cat Rocco had abandoned him when the noise began, and he had no idea where he’d run off to, but he could use the comfort.

  “What exactly did this ex say to you?”

  Simon ran a hand down his face. “That…that I was a summer fling Rocco was using to make himself feel better. That he’s done it before—and he has. I’ve been following him on Twitter since I signed up. I’ve seen him do this.”