Guarding January
Page 22
He settled in with his lover, tugging Jeff close. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“He was…. He found me. He invented LJ.”
“He was your friend.” Even if Rye thought being LJ was the worst idea ever. “It’s good to mourn, natural.”
“What is going to happen now? The band is going to be nothing.”
“It’s time to let the band go, baby.” It was selfish of him to be glad about that, he knew it.
Jeff began to cry again, tears sliding down the lean cheeks. Rye let him cry, holding his baby and stroking his hand along Jeff’s back. The tears came and went, then returned, and they stayed together.
“I have you,” Rye whispered, holding on.
“I don’t want to be a performer anymore, Rye. I’m so tired.”
“Then don’t, baby.” He knew Jeff didn’t believe it yet, but it really was that easy.
“Okay.” Jeff’s eyes closed. “My head hurts so bad.”
He fished the bottle of aspirin out of his pants pocket and handed two over. They’d forgotten them earlier. Jeff took them dry, making Rye wince. Gross.
Rye tugged Jeff close again, kissed the top of his head. “You don’t have to perform anymore, baby, honestly. You’re an amazing songwriter.”
Jeff pulled the blankets around them tighter.
“You can mourn, but I’m not letting you hide from our life together.”
“I just want to be here with you.”
“That works for me, baby.”
“Good. Can… can there be soup later?”
“I’ve got tomatoes, so yes, there can be. I can even do grilled cheese sandwiches.” He would do anything for Jeff. Absolutely anything.
“Later. Just soup.”
“Anything you want.”
“Soup. You. Holding. I hurt.”
“I know. I won’t let you hurt alone, though.”
“Do you think Roach cared about me? And Jim? Did they like me?”
“Yeah, I do think so. I think that’s why he didn’t tell you about the cancer—he didn’t want you to worry about him. And Jim… the man was your sponsor, of course he liked you. You can’t have that kind of relationship if you don’t like a person.” Rye knew how hard it was for someone who was a celebrity to have true friends. It had been especially hard for Jeff because of the persona LJ had been.
“I swear, you’d better not die on me. Not for years and years and years, and then we’ll go together, at the very same second.”
Rye nodded. “That works for me, baby.” He held Jeff tight—he wasn’t going to let anything get his baby, ever.
“Cool.” Jeff sighed. “Good.”
“Do you need to call Donna?”
“Probably, but I don’t want to, not yet.”
“Okay. Are we going to the funeral?”
“There’s not going to be one. He didn’t want one.”
“Okay.” Did it make him awful that he was glad about that?
“I don’t want to go anyway. He’s dead.”
“Yeah.” Rye squeezed Jeff tight, wishing he had some magic thing to say to make it all better. Jeff cuddled in, held on. Maybe he was, just by being here. Which he always would be, so they were good.
JEFF CALLED Donna, pacing and watching the snow fall.
“LJ. How are you?”
“I quit. I’m going to write. Just write. I want to sell the big house, and I want this one. I want my life here.”
“Okay.”
He blinked. “Okay?”
“Well, honey, if you take away the costs of running the LJ empire, you’re actually making more writing.”
“Okay. You’ll still be—” His friend. His manager. His soul. “—Donna?”
“As long as you don’t expect me to come see you when it’s snowing.”
“No. No, you have to take a snowmobile out to the main road.” It was amazing.
“Seriously? And you’re choosing to live there?” Donna didn’t get it. At all. She was an LA lady, through and through.
“Uh-huh. It’s—” Real. It was a real place where he was just Jeff, just a guy. “—a good place.”
“And you’re happy, honey?”
“Yes. I need this—the quiet, the solitude.” Rye. He needed Rye.
“As long as you’re happy and doing what you want, I’m on board. You still with the giant?”
“He asked me to marry him.”
A sharp gasp came down the line. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. Unless you said no, in which case he’s fired.”
“We’re ordering rings. Gold and silver together.”
“Congratulations. Really.”
Jeff grinned. “It’s like a new life, Donna. Like a new start.”
“That’s great, L—” Donna cut herself off, chuckling softly. “So what do you want me to call you now?”
“Jeff. I’d like to just be plain old Jeff Smart, please.”
“You got it, Jeff.” It sounded right, hearing Donna call him that. Call him by his real name.
“Can you help with the house and stuff? All the details?”
“Of course, I can. You leave it in my hands. Once it’s sold, you want to buy the place you’re renting now?”
“I do. We do. It’s amazing. Even if there’s enough snow you have to use a snowmobile!”
Donna snickered, then sobered again. “You want me to let everyone know you won’t be using their services anymore? Like Janie?”
“I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“Honey, it’s the nature of the beast. One day you’re the driver of the biggest star out there, the next day you’re doing airport runs for rich kids. No one is going to blame you for not being LJ anymore. Especially under the circumstances.”
“I just—” Being Lord January was going to kill him.
“You just what, honey? The only person who you have a responsibility to is yourself.”
“I still…. They’re good people. I can’t do it anymore.”
“And you don’t have to.” Donna sighed. “Honey, go tell your man what you’re feeling. He’ll help.”
“I love you.” It seemed important to say that these days.
“I love you too, Jeff.” Donna sounded like she might be tearing up.
“It’s going to be okay, right?” He was feeling panicked, and Rye’s huge hands landed on his shoulders. They massaged him, the heat of Rye’s body a wall behind him, supporting him.
“Of course it’s going to be all right, Jeff. We’re going to keep making money, you and me.”
“Okay, you’re not mad at me?” He couldn’t bear that. No way.
“For what, honey?” Donna sounded honestly surprised by his question.
“I don’t know….”
Donna’s chuckle was soft. “Is Rye there?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Go hug him. Call me later.”
Rye kissed the top of his head, the silent support sure, steady. There, just like it always was. Always.
Jeff hung up the phone and then turned to hold on, heart pounding furiously. He’d done it.
Rye’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him even closer. “You’re shaking.”
“I did it, Rye.”
“What did you do, baby?”
“I quit. I told Donna to sell the house.”
“Really? You’ve officially hung up the LJ mantle?”
Jeff nodded, swallowing hard, panicking a little.
Rye pulled back to meet his eyes, that smile huge. “That’s great, Jeff. It really is. Will she keep representing you as a songwriter?”
“Uh-huh.” He was going to throw up.
“Cool. That’s really, really wonderful. And you’re selling the house in LA? So we’re going to stay here? With the snow and silence and the beautiful mountains?”
“Uh-huh.” He looked into Rye’s eyes. “I’m wigged out.”
Rye nodded. “It’s a huge change, I get that. I have your back, though.”
“That’s
what Donna said. Can we get in the hot tub? Hold each other?”
“Only if we can roll in the snow afterward.” Rye’s eyes twinkled at him.
“You’re a sick, sick man.” Funny, though… and his.
“No way! It’s a real thing. It’s supposed to be invigorating.”
“No.”
“No you don’t believe me, or no you won’t do it?”
Jeff couldn’t stop his smile. “Just no.”
“Damn. Okay, we don’t have to do it. This time. One day, though.” Rye picked him up and moved toward the hot tub. “We are going to forgo swimming trunks, though.”
“Okay. This time.” He wrapped around Rye, held on tight. “Love you.”
“I love you too, baby. More than anything.”
“Good, because I need you.”
“Yeah, you do. Probably almost as much as I need you.”
Jeff didn’t know about that, but that was okay. They were building something—something real. Something good. Jeff looked at Rye and twined their fingers together. “Love, can we try the bacon sandwiches tonight?”
He was feeling like he could be brave.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” SEAN MICHAEL spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long-lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to Chicago.
A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.
Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.
Website: http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com
Blog: http://seanmichaelwrites.blogspot.ca/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites
Twitter: @seanmichael09
Also by this author and DREAMSPINNER PRESS
Cupcakes
By Sean Michael
Allen Jameson had it all—the perfect house, the perfect partner, the perfect life—until his partner, Gary, died suddenly, leaving him alone in the real world, where life isn’t so pretty and people make mistakes. Now Allen is the owner of Sweet ’n’ Sassy Cupcake Shop, a cute boutique downtown, where he invents delicious flavors like strawberry and French meringue. Between working long hours and making special orders, Allen barely has time to think.
Then a hunky contractor walks into his shop looking for a treat. Allen and Byron Bannigan are total opposites, but they’re perfect together—salty and sweet like Allen’s signature peanut butter and chocolate ganache cupcakes. But as Allen struggles to juggle his business and his boyfriend, he learns he can only handle so much. He may have to choose between the cupcakes in his store and the cupcake in his bed.
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright
PROLOGUE
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
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Also by this author and Dreamspinner Press