“Don’t apologize.” He waves me off, standing up and taking our empty plates to the kitchen.
“Jackson,” I call after him, jumping up to follow him.
“Don’t, Cam. It’s okay, honestly. I’m sorry I assumed, and I’m sorry I watched that video, it clearly makes you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s not like I don’t know guys watch them, that’s kinda the whole point.” Jackson avoids my gaze as he washes our plates and stacks them in the drying rack. Then he starts wiping down the counter and I get the feeling he’s just finding ways to keep from looking at me. “Jackson,” I say his name again, putting my hand on his shoulder and feeling his muscles stiffen under my touch.
“I’m a little embarrassed is all,” he admits. “Can we leave it alone so I can lick my wounds in peace?”
“Why would you be embarrassed? I’m the one with countless sex videos who admitted to using Viagra not two minutes ago.”
He finally stops cleaning and meets my eyes. “I’ve never asked a guy out before, I feel stupid I got it wrong.”
“You didn’t get it wrong. If I were gay, I’d be thrilled to go on a date with you. The zoo sounds like fun, actually. I kinda wish I was gay so we could go.”
Jackson rolls his eyes and tosses the rag down. “Cam, you don’t have to pretend to be gay to get stuff you want. We can go to the zoo anyway if you really want.”
“Yeah?” I ask with a flutter of hope. “I’d like that.”
He nods resolutely. “Then we’ll go.” He pushes away from the counter and moves to skirt around me. “I’m going to head to bed, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay. We’re good though?” I check.
“We’re good,” he assures me.
9
Jackson
Out of every possible reaction I had imagined to me asking Cameron out, him telling me he wasn't gay wasn't anywhere on that list. Somewhere deep down, I’d considered the possibility of him rejecting me, for whatever reason. Maybe ‘cause I'm not his type. Maybe ‘cause he has an ex he’s still pining over. Maybe ‘cause he's too focused on his work and his mother, I don't rightly know. But him rejecting me because he’s not gay, I didn't see that one coming. And it's thrown me for a loop.
I know he explained it to me, doing gay porn simply for the money. And don't get me wrong, I’m not judging him. On the contrary, I'm in awe of the things he does to make sure his mama is taken care off. Say what you want, but he's working two jobs and spending a lot of time as her primary caregiver, and that's something I admire.
At the same time, I have to admit I don't get it. I meant what I said to him, I don't think I could get it up, no matter how much money you offered me. I think women are absolutely wonderful, and I love hanging out with them. Heck, I can even admire their curves and bodies from a more artistic point of view, but the reality is that they don't do anything for me. The idea of being intimate with a woman, it's just not something I'm interested in, no matter the price tag.
And this isn't as theoretical as it sounds. When I considered going into acting, I realized that if I was ever cast for TV or for a movie, the chances of me having to do some kind of intimate scene with a woman would be astronomical compared to doing one with a guy. Believe it or not, but I did debate this with myself, if pretending to be intimate with a girl was something I could live with once I had come out.
But acting is different from porn. Isn’t it? Cameron seems to think they're the same, that all he does is act, but I'm not sure if that's the case. Sure, even with my limited experience in watching porn, I can tell that acting is involved. Or it should be, lemme put it that way, seeing as how some of the videos I've seen can’t rightly be called acting, not even when you're horny and just looking for some inspiration to jerk off to.
Acting is selling a dream, making believe. Porn is… Well, now that I think about it, maybe they're not that different after all. If I act like I am in love with a woman, my job is to sell it to the audience to the point where our romance is believable and connects with them. Maybe Campy is right that his job is to sell that he's enjoying the sex. I don't know. It feels different to me, but I can't explain why.
What I do know is that I’m simply flabbergasted that he's not gay. Hell, that scene I watched with him and Pixie, how could he not be into that, the way he looked, the way he acted, the sounds he made, the way his body responded?
Oh great, now I'm hard all over again. I let out a frustrated sigh. This has been pretty much my reality ever since I asked him out two days ago. Every time I think about him, I get aroused all over again. Maybe I'm a weirdo who gets a kick out of being rejected, what the fuck do I know?
Aw, darn it, he’s got me cursing now, that’s how upset I am. I’m such a softie. Truly, I got no game at all. Zero.
I take my phone out, my fingers itching to text Brax. What if I…? No, I can’t. It’ll lead to too many questions. Instead, I reply to his earlier text about an exam he failed and mention I’m having a crappy day as well. Shared misery and all that. He sends me a Cookie Monster meme back to cheer me up and it does, for a little bit. Then my thoughts wander back to Cameron.
At least we have that trip to the zoo to look forward to. I'm kind of mixed about that now, since the whole idea was to figure out a date that would make him happy. Now that it's not actually a date but more of a friends thing, isn't it kind of weird? Then again, he suggested going, or maybe I did? That part is a little fuzzy to me, my brain still in shock from his unexpected bombshell.
If he and I can't date, at least we can be friends. Heaven knows I could use a friend here to help me navigate the LA scene, because even the few experiences I've had so far—my mind immediately travels back to that beach encounter with CJ and Dustin—have shown me I may lack the necessary suaveness to do this on my own. Campy may pretend to be gay, but at least his experiences with the Ballsy Boys should’ve given him some kind of edge on how to handle dating in this town. I hope.
Well, I guess it's time to put myself out there. If Cameron isn’t going to be my date, I'm determined to find someone else. I asked about the best dating apps in that new gay group on Facebook, and the opinion was pretty unanimous that I had to be on Grindr. Since I don’t do anything without researching first, I go and do a little googling, and from what I discover, taking a good profile picture is crucial. That, I can start with.
I take off my shirt and look at myself in the large mirror I've hung on the back of my door. Before you think that I'm completely vain, I use that mirror a lot to practice my lines and check myself for posture. Trust me, I'm not one of those guys who stares at himself for hours just for fun. There are far more interesting things for me to look at than my own face and body.
Like Cameron’s. Oh my, he looks good half-naked. Or naked. That video showed off his…assets in fine, HD quality. The little dimples in his ass cheeks, for example. The smooth planes of his chest. His strong, toned body, so perfectly proportioned. Not that I can ever watch his videos again. Can I? That would be weirdly perverted.
I can't deny I'm in good shape. I trained my ass off in the weeks before I came here, knowing that I have scenes coming up where I'll be half-naked. Sure, it's a drama series, but they're not afraid to draw in female viewers with a little male nudity. Not full frontal, duh, but apparently my upper body was deemed worthy enough to attract females, so they've written a few scenes for me where I walk around in the house with just jeans on. I think it's gonna look exceedingly stupid, but what do I know?
The result of me training and watching my diet is that I’m in good shape, even if I don't come close to some of the guys on Muscle Beach. But I don't look too shabby without my shirt on, and I try to take a few pictures that show my body. Should I include my face?
I take a selfie with and without my face, but I can't decide which I like better. What is the custom here, anyway?
Should I ask Cameron? Why the heck not? If he's willing to help me, this is something practical he could do for me
. And it's not like he has anything else to do right now, because I can hear him watching one of his documentaries in the living room.
I walk over to him, phone in my hand. "Hey dude, can I ask for your opinion?"
He pauses his show, then gives me thorough look. "Did you lose your shirt?"
"Har. No, I was taking pictures to put up on Grindr, but I can't decide if I should do a body shot or a body and head shot. What do you think?"
His eyebrows shoot up. "Grindr, huh? Good for you. Show me what you've got."
For a second, I think he's asking me to show poses, but then I realize he's asking for my phone. I pull up the headless shot I did. "This doesn't look bad, right?"
He studies it for a few seconds, then shakes his head. "You can do better. If you do a few push-ups or weight exercises just before, you’ll look more pumped. The difference is enough to make you look just a bit more muscled than you are in reality."
"Interesting. I didn't know that."
"It's what Bear makes us do before he takes pictures of us for the website," Cameron says.
I frown in confusion. "Bear?"
"Oh, sorry, right. Bear is my boss, the owner of the Ballsy Boys studio. Every few months or so, he wants us to do new pictures for the website so it always stays fresh. So right before the photographer shows up, he has us do some push-ups and lift a few weights. What can I say, it works.”
"Okay, point taken. Anything else?"
He swipes back and forth between the photos with and without my head. "I think it all depends on what you're looking for. Headless shot with just your upper body will definitely attract men who are interested in your type. You should have a good response to that, but chances are it will be mostly guys who are looking to hook up. If you include your face, that may signal you're interested in more than just a body yourself."
I let out a sigh. "I had no idea dating was this complicated. How in the name of all that’s holy should I have known the type of picture you post sends a message about what you're looking for?"
Cameron smiles at me. "Dude, there’s like a whole language on Grindr, from what I understand. You'd better get up to speed on the lingo, pronto. The guys have told me there are definite codewords you need to know."
I roll my eyes. "Codewords? You do realize I'm tryin’ to find a date, not spy on a foreign government, right?"
"Hey, I'm just the messenger here, bro. You might want to read through a ton of Grindr profiles to see if you encounter any words or expressions you don't know. Either Google them or I can ask the boys, I don't care. I'm just trying to look out for you. I don't want to see you get hurt."
I blink a few times, since that last sentence is unexpected. "Thank you. I appreciate that. And I didn't mean to get snappy with you. I do appreciate all the advice you're givin’ me."
"No problem. And if you want, I could take a good profile picture of you, once you decide what you want to do. I’m not a professional photographer, but I've picked up enough tips from shooting videos and doing the occasional promotional photo shoot for Ballsy Boys that I think I could do a decent enough job."
Getting Cameron to take my picture while I’m half-naked? The thought is equally arousing and terrifying, but I'm not gonna say no. No-brainer.
"Thank you. I'll do some research on whether or not I want my head in the shot and I'll come find you when I know what I want, okay?" He nods and I quickly add, "After I've done a round of push-ups and what not to get pumped, apparently."
He grins at me, and my stomach does this little trip it always does when he smiles at me like that. "Can't wait," he says, and how I wish that were true.
10
Campy
I lean over the railing beside the black rhino enclosure and watch the large animal lazily rub its head against what looks like a giant scratching post. I sigh wistfully, wishing like hell I could be doing something to reach my goal of becoming a wildlife veterinarian. For a second, I feel a wave of resentment toward my mother, followed by nearly suffocating guilt. It’s not like she wants to be sick. Neither of us chose this, we’re just doing the best we can to get by.
I glance over and catch Jackson watching me with a frown.
“Everything okay?” he asks when he notices me noticing him.
“Great,” I assure him, and aside from my inner turmoil, it’s true. The zoo has been a complete blast. I can’t remember the last time I came here, probably not since my class field trip in seventh grade. My mom always worked too much for outings like this when I was younger. She put her happiness on hold so she could support me growing up, and it’s my turn to do the same for her.
Jackson doesn’t look convinced but nods anyway, and then steps out of the way of a few children who come running up to the railing to see the rhino.
I follow him, skirting around kids on our way to the next exhibit. My smile becomes more genuine when I see giraffes are up next.
“Giraffes are my favorite,” I confide as we stop in front of the large sign full of facts about giraffes. “Did you know they have the same number of vertebrae in their neck as people do? Each one is just massive.”
“Really? That’s crazy.”
“I know, right?” I can feel my inner animal nerd bubbling to the surface but I can’t seem to want to tramp it down. “And, did you know that they only need about two hours of sleep every day?”
Jackson’s eyes seem to sparkle as he listens to me list off nearly every fact I can think of relating to giraffes, simply nodding and making interested noises as I run my mouth. When I finish, I notice a warmth in his eyes that does funny things to my chest.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“If money was no object, and you could be anything in the world, what would you want to do with your life?”
“Be a wildlife veterinarian,” I answer without a thought.
His smile turns a little sad. “I kinda figured.”
“I will be,” I assure him, wanting to chase away whatever’s getting him down. “Eventually I’ll get the chance to go to vet school and then I’ll get a job working at this zoo, helping all these animals. And I’ll own a ranch outside the city and take care of injured wildlife there too.”
“That sounds really nice, Cam.”
“It will be,” I say resolutely. “When I’m not at Ballsy, I work part time at a wildlife and large animal rehab, and I absolutely love it.”
“Ah.” His eyes light up again like he’s just solved a puzzle. “Now that makes sense.”
Jackson’s hand twitches and, for a second, I think he’s going to reach out and take my hand. To my surprise, I sort of want him to. Then a kid barrels into me and knocks me off balance. Jackson reaches out to steady me and the moment is broken.
“Let’s go look at those giraffes,” he suggests, pointing toward the walk-up. “Then you can tell me everything you know about tigers, because those are my favorite,” he says, winking at me.
“Oh, did you know that a tiger’s stripes are unique to each cat, like human fingerprints?”
“Really?” he responds with interest, letting me go off on another tangent, seemingly happy to listen as long as I want to talk.
After seeing our favorite animals, we wander past an ice cream cart and I catch Jackson looking at it wistfully.
“Come on, let’s be really bad and splurge, just this once.” I grab his hand without thinking and drag him over to the cart.
“I really shouldn’t,” he says, but the protest is weak. It’s obvious he wants me to talk him into breaking his strict diet this one time.
“You brought me out here on a date, which means you’re subject to my whims if you want to make a good impression.”
“Seein’ as you’re not gay, this isn’t a date.”
“Do you want the ice cream or not?”
He throws another longing look at the creamy treats and then nods eagerly.
“I’m going to hate you tomorrow when I have to do extra cardio t
o burn off the calories, but let’s splurge.”
“That’s the spirit. Besides, we’re walking around in this ridiculous heat all day, you’re already burning the calories, so the ice cream is basically free.”
“I like the way you think.”
When we reach the ice cream cart, I drop his hand.
“What do you like? It’s on me.”
“I’m boring, vanilla’s my favorite.”
“That’s not boring, vanilla is my favorite too. I don’t know why vanilla gets so much hate. Vanilla is seen as plain or boring, but the thing about vanilla is it’s versatile. You can add sprinkles or hot fudge, hell you can even get crazy and add marshmallows or fruit. Vanilla can be whatever it wants to be, it doesn’t need to be boxed in like the other flavors do.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about ice cream,” Jackson says with a chuckle.
“Yeah, well, this stupid diet and all.” I shrug. “Few people want to see jiggling love handles when they turn on a porn.”
The ice cream vendor gives me an odd look and I realize what I just said out loud. I give him an apologetic smile and order two vanilla cones, tipping him a little extra before turning and handing Jackson his treat.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he says as we find a bench under a shady tree to sit and enjoy our indulgence. He starts licking his ice cream and my brain seems to short circuit, my eyes stuck on the way his tongue laps at it, coming away with streaks of white cream with each lick and sending my mind to an entirely filthy place.
“What’s that?” I ask in a bit of a daze, having completely lost the thread of our conversation.
“People not wanting to see love handles in porn. I don’t think it’s true.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see brain-meltingly hot people, but it’s also nice to see people who are more relatable. It adds to the fantasy, don’t you think?”
Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4) Page 7
