The Winter Quarters

by Anna Veriani

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments | Author's Note | Epigraph

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  About the Author

  Coming in November 2019

  Don’t Miss Dreamspun Desires!

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  The Winter Quarters

  By Anna Veriani

  Snow, steam, and a second chance.

  Reluctant socialite Kai has thirty-five days before his family starts shooting the next season of their reality TV show, revealing a life he’d rather keep private—and one that feels increasingly scripted. Desperately needing a break, Kai escapes to his childhood best friend Hiro Asada’s inn in rural Japan. He finds peace in the thousand-year-old hot springs, but his yearning for Hiro resurfaces at the worst time: Hiro is about to inherit the inn, and his parents expect him to marry within the year.

  Hiro’s traditional family loves him for who he is, but they can’t imagine two men running the inn. Meanwhile, Kai has a TV contract his lawyer insists can’t be broken. Hiro and Kai need to think outside the box—and solve their problems before Christmas Day, when Kai’s show shoots its annual holiday special.

  Hiro slid the door shut. “I know you said your relationship with James Duffy isn’t real, but I was wondering if maybe you… broke up with someone? Or something?”

  “Huh?”

  “You booked the room for two people. I kind of assumed I’d be picking up another person up at the station, but….”

  Kai blinked. “Oh—Hiro! I thought I told you. I mean….” He looked away. Now that he could actually see Hiro in person, it was so obvious that the inn, however luxurious, was Hiro’s place of work. Kai’s cheeks burned. “I thought you could stay here. That was a dumb idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Here?” Hiro asked.

  “With me,” Kai said. Cleared his throat. “I just thought I might get lonely. But I was being selfish, and it’s—”

  “Whoa,” Hiro said. “You’re not selfish, Kai. I want to stay with you.”

  Acknowledgments

  THE deepest thank you to everyone who read and critiqued my many drafts. Thank you to Sarah Windsor, Isabella B., and Alex for bringing clarity to the story. Thank you to the book’s sensitivity readers, and to Kaori for Kai’s kanji and Kaga strawberries.

  Thank you to all at Dreamspinner for your hard work—and for embracing a romance where the hero ends up less rich at the end.

  To Kimberly Brower for introducing me to the world of publishing.

  To everyone in Ishikawa who’s a part of my community. Every day:

  To Houshi Ryokan and Yamanaka Onsen; without these places Hiro would have no inn.

  To New York, who made me. To Caitlin, of course. And finally, to my mom and Peggy and my sister. Love ya.

  Author’s Note

  THE Winter Quarters is set in a version of Japan where marriage equality is legalized. I saw it happen in the States decades sooner than I’d dared to imagine. Now let’s imagine it here.

  The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding.

  —John Updike

  —Fukuda Chiyo-Ni

  Chapter One

  KAI liked being alone more than he thought he would. Two days ago he awoke to a cameraman squatting beside his bed, filming Kai’s ruffled hair and puffy morning eyes from a strange angle. Now filming for the show was on winter hiatus. Yesterday he flew halfway around the world, and today a rickety local train was taking him through the Japanese Alps to his hometown.

  The train bumped so rhythmically it created a kind of song on the tracks. It was only November, but they were riding through snow country, and when he glimpsed the mountains, he thought the snow could already be as high as ten feet at their peaks. Ishikawa Prefecture had cicada-filled humid summers and long, white winters where the only way to stay warm was to curl up under a kotatsu with a hot cup of tea. It was a place of extremes. Perhaps it wasn’t surprising that it had produced his mother.

  Someone on the train cleared their throat, and Kai jumped, fixing his hair. He looked around nervously, wondering if anyone had noticed the way he’d just primped for nonexistent cameras. His head was full of strange thoughts, like that maybe someone was filming him with their cell phone, or that his mother was probably sending the entire NYPD off in search of him.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was like he’d summoned her.

  Mom [4:15 p.m.]: I hope you haven’t been taken for ransom. It would be so ~us~ for that to happen just before the holidays.

  Kai snorted. His phone buzzed again.

  Mom [4:16 p.m.]: Just be back before Christmas.

  Right. No matter how impulsively he’d escaped or how far away he currently was, in just a few weeks he’d trudge back onto the set of Kimi and Kai. The show was his mother’s baby. He supposed he was also his mother’s baby, which made the show his evil half-sibling.

  Another text came.

  Hiro [4:16 p.m.]: Leaving for the train station now. I’m post-op so you might not recognize me.

  Kai rolled his eyes. Hiro found the media’s constant speculations on whether Kai or his mother had finally gone under the knife very amusing. Kai thought about replying with something mean, but maybe Hiro didn’t know his hair was awful. To resist teasing him, Kai reread Hiro’s message from last night. It was short and to the point: Miss you.

  He used to wonder if their stupid text conversations meant as much to Hiro as they did to Kai. He still wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing: Hiro hadn’t hesitated when Kai asked if he could stay at the Asada Inn for a bit. Kai hadn’t been back in years, but Hiro didn’t even have to think about it.

  And it was nice for another reason, in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Someone in the world wanted to see him. No cameras, no crew, no hair stylists. Just his oldest friend in the world, waiting for him.

  HE had expected to be recognized at Kanazawa Station. This was, after all, his hometown, and it had the kind of fierce local pride in him obscure places had in their born-and-raised celebrities. He’d just thought it would take longer than three steps off the train.

  “Eh—Kai-chan?” He paused when he heard a woman in a rabbit fur muffler gasp, and that was his undoing. “Kai-chan!”

  Chan was an honorific for girls, puppies, and boyfriends, and somehow it had been attached to his name once the show started. He enjoyed this precisely as much as any grown man would.

  It was like every woman on the train platform suddenly smelled him, sharks going after blood. He tucked his head down and strode toward the exit, but it was too late. The click-clack of high heels followed him. He kept walking even as the call of his name grew louder, attracting more attention in a vicious cycle. Abandoning his security team at JFK Airport yesterday had seemed thrilling at the time; now he wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” a voice boomed behind him in Japanese. Kai flinched and nearly broke out into a run.

  The police, the police…. He looked around frantically just as a massive arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, so heavy he nearly crumbled.

  “Sir, I
am not Kai—” he tried in his most dignified Japanese, retrieving his phone. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with it—call the police? Chuck it at the man’s face?

  “Obviously.” The man grabbed Kai’s phone and held it above both their heads. “I, however, am enormously famous, so I thought I would grace you with a selfie.” He set it to selfie mode. “Cheers.”

  The camera clicked as it took their picture, and Kai was blinded by sheer outrage. Then he saw the man’s face clearly in the camera screen—specifically his wide, doggish grin.

  “Hiro, you absolute bastard,” Kai said in English. The horde of women had left them. He didn’t blame them. Hiro probably looked like a bodyguard, and not the kind you would risk messing with.

  “Is that the hello I get from an old—”

  Kai wrapped his arms tight around him and squeezed.

  “Oh.” Hiro hugged him back, and Kai swore his own blood pressure lowered. “Hey, man. It’s good to see you.” He squeezed his shoulder. “Shit flight, right?”

  “You know it.” Kai pulled away and got a good look at his face.

  Hiro may not have actually been post-op, but there were people in the world who would pay for cheekbones like his. Time had taken his face and sculpted it beautifully: his baby fat chiseled away, all angles and a wide, grinning mouth; his hair longer now, feathery near his chin. Five-o’clock shadow graced his skin, and Kai wanted to rub his own cheeks against it.

  Okay. It was time to tone it down, before some of those thoughts ended up leaving his lips. Kai had gone too long without a date, putting him a little on edge. But Hiro had mentioned he was engaged over text message just last week—which was something Kai had to grill him over later. He was a little confused about why he hadn’t heard about Hiro’s fiancée.

  “Sorry,” Hiro said suddenly.

  Kai realized he’d been staring in silence a beat too long. “For what?”

  “Staring,” said Hiro, and for a wide-eyed moment Kai thought he was being accused. “I know we talk almost every day, but… seeing you in person is different, somehow.”

  It hadn’t felt like it at the time, but they’d still been babies when they’d roomed together at NYU. Four years after graduation, and Kai felt about two decades older.

  “It is,” Kai admitted. “And what’s up with this?” He poked Hiro’s torso. “Since when did you get buff?”

  Hiro was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and leather jacket, and he leaned back and laughed, which emphasized Kai’s point. The shirt stretched around his chest and hugged his thick arms. Hiro had always been taller than Kai, but Kai didn’t remember him being so broad. He hadn’t stopped growing vertically either. Well over six feet now, he was built like a lumberjack.

  “What’s up with you waltzing around Kanazawa Station like you don’t want your picture taken?” said Hiro. “Don’t you know there’s a banner with your face on it right outside?”

  “Is there?” Kai cringed.

  “And this city only has about five billboards, so people aren’t going to forget you.”

  Kanazawa Station was bright and open, making it the worst kind of place to hide in. A schoolgirl’s eyes went lemur-wide as Kai passed, and Hiro put an arm around him. The girl leaped away to give them space.

  “Don’t scare people,” Kai chided. “You look like you’re yakuza standing next to me.”

  “How dare you suggest such a thing,” Hiro said. “I look like your much richer and handsomer brother.”

  Kai raised his eyebrows. “We don’t look like brothers, man.”

  “Yeah,” Hiro agreed, and there was something behind his tone that Kai couldn’t decipher. “Nothing fraternal here.”

  KAI Ledging looked like a young god. That was the thought Hiro had had when he’d stood outside the eastern gate of Kanazawa Station, staring up at the massive banner of Kai’s face. It said Kimi and Kai in Japanese, along with the airtime for the reality show Kai had made him swear he would never watch.

  Kai’s first name was written with the kanji characters for beautiful and rejoice. When Hiro saw Kai for the first time in four years, his mind went completely blank for a second. Coming back on air, it reverberated with one message: You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Kai was, indeed, so beautiful that Hiro could rejoice. He was paler than Hiro, his fine-skinned face so fair and flawless it almost looked like a mask. He had big, dark eyes and short brown hair, just long enough for Hiro to mess up on their way out the station. Faint freckles graced his cheeks. You couldn’t even see them unless you were looking very closely.

  As they walked, Hiro realized Kai didn’t quite reach his shoulders anymore. He had all sorts of boyish urges: to tickle him, cup his cheeks to see if they were as soft as they looked, pick him up and swing him over his shoulder like he did when they were kids.

  On their way to the parking lot, they passed a massive Christmas tree outside the Forus shopping mall. It was wrapped in tinsel and lights, towering over the tourists.

  “Weird to see a Christmas tree in November,” Kai said, and it was adorable how far back he had to tilt his head to take in the whole tree. “I guess it’s different when you don’t have Thanksgiving beforehand.”

  “We can celebrate Thanksgiving if you want,” Hiro said quickly.

  Kai raised an eyebrow. “With all the turkey we eat in Japan?”

  “I’ll feed you, don’t you worry.” Just as he spoke, a soft hush of snow began to fall, silent and pretty.

  WORDS didn’t roll off their tongues the way he hoped, at least not once they were in his car. Kai made fun of Hiro for driving a tiny kei car, and Hiro made fun of Kai for trying to get into the driver’s seat, like he’d forgotten drivers sat on the right side in Japan. After that they didn’t have much to say. Apparently teasing was easier than making real conversation.

  “Seriously?” Kai crossed his arms when Hiro turned up some Christmas music.

  “Too early for the American?”

  “It’s an abomination.”

  “It started in October.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Isn’t this technically your Christmas break?” Hiro asked. “It’s your winter holiday, right?” He couldn’t imagine why Kai wasn’t spending it with his mom.

  “I’m not staying for Christmas,” Kai said. “I can’t.”

  “But I thought….” Hiro did mental math as he drove. “You said thirty-five days….”

  “My return ticket is for December 23.” Kai sighed. “I have to start filming on Christmas Day. The holiday will be a featured episode. The Big D and I have to go on a cabin trip or something.”

  Hiro cracked up. He knew Kai called his fake boyfriend James Duffy the Big D over text message, but he’d assumed it was a friendly nickname. Kai’s tone let him know exactly what it stood for.

  “I don’t really get how that works,” Hiro said. “The show tells you to go on dates with him, and you do?”

  “Pretty much. Duffy was a season-two addition,” Kai said dryly. “You know, season one wasn’t even that bad. My mom did her thing: went shopping on camera, dated any hedge fund manager who was either half or twice her age, threw a bunch of galas to promote her own fashion brand. Normal Kimi stuff.”

  “Yeah, super normal.”

  Kai flicked his shoulder. “They only required me to be in fifteen minutes of every episode, so I’d just kind of pop in, let them film me eating dinner once a week with her, and then I’d go.”

  When Kai had first started getting really famous, Hiro thought it was important to keep up with the momentum before he processed how little it actually had to do with Kai. After season one had aired, the reviews started pouring in online, a good heaping of them centered around one mystery: Where is Kai Ledging? Eventually #ifoundkai became a trending hashtag on Twitter, with people tweeting out poorly photoshopped absurd scenarios of why Kai didn’t have time for his own show. Kidnapped by the mafia, deep-sea diving for the world’s rarest pearl, incognito as a waiter at Applebee’s. It’d been
pretty funny.

  He told Kai so.

  “What normal people find amusing, my production team does not,” Kai said. “They decided that a boyfriend would be good for my image, which would be good for the show’s ratings, and that I actually had to be near him, on camera, regularly.”

  “So they, like, cooked James Duffy up in a fake boyfriend factory and gave him to you?”

  “Basically,” Kai said. “James Duffy is the heir to the father of the gambling industry or something. The Duffy family are all millionaires. Duffy likes money, tacky gold things, and bullying our crew.”

  “What a dreamboat!” Hiro exclaimed. “How did they find such a winner for you?”

  “My PR manager,” Kai said. “The Big D is her client, too. She bought the commitment ring that he gave me last season. That whole episode was her idea. Now I have to keep remembering to put it on every time the cameras are rolling.”

  Hiro was going to make another joke because it was so easy to, but when he glanced over, Kai looked so exhausted that Hiro couldn’t find the words.

  “Are you unhappy?” he asked.

  “Unhappy?” Kai blinked like he’d never considered the concept before. Damn, he was mesmerizing. Hiro forced his eyes back on the road. The roadsides harbored unguarded waterways, like city-wide brooks that guided Ishikawa’s heavy rain back into the rivers and rice paddies.

  “It would be weird for me to be unhappy,” Kai said. “I mean, I have my own TV show. Last autumn it felt like I was on the cover of almost every magazine in New York, and….”

  Hiro stole a quick glance. Kai was looking out the window, but he had a slightly glazed-over expression that said he was missing all the scenery. There were dark smudges under his eyes, nights gone unslept.