“I never really thought of that,” I admit. “I’m surprised Rebel hasn’t thought of that actually, he’s the marketing genius.”
Jackson just nods, not seeming to have anything else to add. I watch for a few more seconds as he continues to devour his ice cream in an entirely too sensual way. The worst part is, it’s obvious he’s not trying to be sexy. It’s not like when someone holds eye contact while licking a popsicle in an exaggerated way. He looks sinful doing it without even trying and I’m not sure what to think about that.
“So,” I clear my throat, needing to find something else to focus my mind on other than his tongue, “have you always wanted to be an actor?”
“Pretty much. I always loved movies, and as soon as I realized being an actor was a job people could have, I knew that’s what I wanted. I loved the idea of getting to be so many different people, finding ways to think and understand different characters, and the challenge of bringing them to life. My dad was horrified when I came home from school in the seventh grade and I told him I got the lead in the school play and wouldn’t be able to help with ranch chores on the weekends because I’d have rehearsal,” he confides. “Guess it was just a dress rehearsal for coming out to them.”
Once we finish our snack, we decide to head over to the aquarium and get in line to pet the stingrays. I know this isn’t a real date, but I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the best day I’ve had in a long time, and leagues better than any real date I’ve gone on.
When it’s our turn to reach into the shallow tank, I glance over to see a look of delight on Jackson’s face as his fingers graze the smooth skin of the ray. He looks up and our eyes meet, causing a little flutter in my chest. There’s something about the simple joy of this moment that settles over me and makes me wish I could freeze time and live here forever, where there’s no worries over money, no sick mom, no dreams miles out of my reach. It’s just me and Jackson, and his adorable, crooked smile.
Jackson
The non-date with Cameron is everything I thought it would be. I've never seen him this animated, and I am amazed at how much he knows about animals. Some of it is completely random facts that are amusing, but he's also shared knowledge that shows how much he understands about wildlife and the challenges they face in our modern society.
We’re in front of the wolves’ exhibit, and I suddenly remember the documentary he was watching about the wolves in Yellowstone. "Didn't they reintroduce these in Yellowstone a few years ago?" I ask, glad I can actually contribute something remotely intelligent to the conversation. "I remember you watching something about this."
He looks at me funny for a few seconds, as if he's amazed I remembered. "Yeah, that documentary showed the impact their reintroduction has had on the ecological system in Yellowstone. They are native to the park, but they vanished from there, mostly because of humans.”
“So they brought them back?”
“Yeah, there are now multiple packs in the park. They’re tracking at least some of them, which is super cool. I saw this map that showed where each of the pack members have ventured, and most of them stayed within their own pack land, so to speak. But there was this one wolf who clearly didn’t give a shit and who wandered all across the park.”
“Little rebel wolf,” I say, grinning.
“Right? I just hope he won’t go outside the park itself, because he might get shot. Inside the park, they’re protected, but outside they’re not. If he crosses into Montana… Humans still are the biggest threats to wolves, as they tend to shoot them on sight."
"Well, if they're ranchers, you can hardly blame them. Wolves are a big threat to livestock."
We've found a spot on a wooden bench in the shade, and guzzle down some much-needed fluids.
"You grew up on a ranch in Texas, right?" Cameron asks.
"Yeah. A small one to Texas standards, but a decent one compared to the rest of the country, I think. We mostly have what’s called black baldies, a cross between Angus and Hereford, plus some Texas Longhorns, ‘cause my dad likes ‘em. They don’t make any money, but they’re very Texan, which makes him happy.”
"Didn't your dad want you to take over for him?"
I shake my head. "I got lucky, because I have a younger brother, Brax, who from a young age showed interest in the ranch. It's never been an issue for him, me, or my dad. It was quite clear he was the one who would take over. He’s in college now, studying animal science and learning all he can about sustainable farming. So there never was any pressure on me, luckily."
I offer Cameron a healthy snack bar I brought, and he gladly accepts it.
“Your brother’s name is Brax?” Cam asks with his mouth full. “That’s a rather unusual name, isn’t it?”
I can feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “It’s short for Braxton. He’s named after General Braxton Bragg, a Confederate general in the Civil War.”
Cameron almost chokes on a sip of water. “You’re shitting me. Your parents are that Southern, huh?”
“Well, they’re Texan, at least my dad is. My mom’s family hails from South Carolina, originally, and that’s where those names come from, family tradition. My dad gave in to her on that one, though I’m sure he woulda preferred naming us after Texan legends, you know?”
Cam raises an eyebrow. “Texan legends?”
I shrug. “Davy Crockett, James Bowie, Sam Houston, …”
“Dude, I have no idea who those people are,” Cameron says with a laugh.
I nod, all but biting my tongue to keep myself from going into a whole Remember the Alamo spiel. It’s fascinating how that doesn’t mean anything outside of Texas.
“Not that I’ve ever heard of Braxton…Bragg, you said? And why Jackson?” Cameron continues, looking a bit puzzled. Then it hits him and I can see understanding dawn in his eyes. “Jackson. You’re named after…”
“Yup, Stonewall Jackson. Just like my mama’s older brother and her dad and my great-grandpa, proud family name on my mama’s side for the oldest son. My great-grandpa was born in 1923, a late-in-life surprise for his father, who named him after the hero of the south, Stonewall Jackson. And my middle name is Bedford, after Nathan Bedford Forrest, another Civil War hero, according to the South, that is.”
To his credit, Cameron doesn’t laugh at me. Not much anyway, though I can see his eyes twinkle with mirth. “You got any more siblings?” he asks.
“Two more brothers, Stuart and Beau, both named after generals. I also have a baby sister, Scarlett, just to stick with the whole Deep South theme we have goin’ there.”
Cameron puts his hand in front of his mouth. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or say sorry or both.”
I shrug, strangely comforted by his reaction. At least he’s not upset about it, like I had any choice in it. “It is what it is,” I say, as always trying to be pragmatic about it. “But it’s not uncommon where I grew up to have that devotion to the South, though usually, it’s more to Texas than to the South, but that’s my mama’s influence, I guess.”
"I think I might like it, being a rancher," Cameron says after a short pause, a wistful edge to his voice.
I try to picture it, Cameron on a horse, dressed in jeans, boots, and a hat. I have to admit, it's not hard to visualize him like that. "You'd be a good fit, what with your love for animals. It's a hard life, though. And it's a lot of routine work. I didn't mind helping out my dad, but I knew even as a teen that I needed more excitement, more creative expression than being a rancher offered."
Cameron chews on his bar, looking pensive. "The conservative environment probably didn't help," he comments.
"There was one openly gay teen in my high school, and you don't want to know how they treated him. There was absolutely no way I was coming out while living there. It would've ruined me socially. It made me feel like a coward at times, but—"
"It's not cowardice to choose the right time to come out," Cameron interrupts me, his intonation definitive and strong. "I think that's a
choice everyone has to make for themselves. For some people, it may make sense to come out early, and for others, it may take longer. Hell, being a teenager is hard enough in and of itself, trying to figure out who you are and how you fit in. I can't even imagine adding discovering your own sexuality to that mix."
"I told my parents right after graduation," I say. "That didn't go over well. Technically, considering how conservative they are, it could've gone a lot worse, I guess. They still love me, and they never would've kicked me out, but there's this cloud of disappointment, you know?"
"So how do they feel about you coming to LA?"
A rush of shame fills me. "They don't know."
Cameron's eyes widen. "You haven't told them?"
"Nope. I started acting in high school, and they weren’t happy about it. Then in college, I managed to score some roles in commercials, and I starred in a few parts in the community theater in my college town. The guy who mentored me there, he told me about the opportunity for the part on Hill Country. They were holding auditions in Texas, since they were looking for actors with a native Texan accent. I auditioned, and I got the part, much to my surprise. But I never told my parents.”
Cameron’s eyes have grown big during my story. “Where do they think you live, then?”
“They're under the impression I'm still at college, finishing up my bachelor’s degree in English Lit."
"Damn," Cameron says, and something flashes over his face that's hard to read. "That's a big secret to keep from them."
My shoulders drop a little. "I know. I don't expect it to stay secret for much longer, but I didn't know how to tell them. They're already so disappointed in me for being gay, and to add to that by telling them I dropped out? I guess I'm not that convinced of their unconditional love for me."
Cameron sends me sympathetic look. "I don't blame you. It's something I never quite understood, religion. Or I should say, conservative religion. My mom, she grew up Catholic with very strict parents. When she got pregnant with me outside of marriage, they disowned her, even after my biological father left her to raise the baby on her own. They never contacted her again. I mean, who does that to their child? How can you call that love?"
"I'm with you. I grew up Southern Baptist, and the list of things we weren't supposed to do was long, let's leave it at that. Even before I fully realized I was gay, I was so discouraged by the sensation of always falling short. No matter what I did, I could never be good enough. There was always this talk about sinning and needing a Savior and not being worthy, and it kind of got to me. It left me wondering, if we are so worthless and useless, why would God even bother with us? Then I realized I was gay, and it got even more complex."
Cameron nods solemnly. "Politics and religion, man, two things people rarely change their minds on. Also the two things that rarely make sense."
We sit in a comfortable silence for a while, until I let out a sigh." Sorry for dragging us down. Tell me what you know about wolves, because I'm sure it's more entertaining than me talking about my frustrated youth."
11
Campy
My veins fill with ice as I head into the Ballsy studios and nearly walk right into someone I never expected to see again—or more accurately, hoped I wouldn’t.
“King.” I mutter his name like it’s a dirty word.
“Well, if it isn’t Rex… Oh wait, you go by Campy now, don’t you?” he spits out and my stomach jolts with fear as I glance around to make sure none of the guys were around to hear that.
“What are you doing here?”
“Interviewing for a position. Maybe I’ll get to wreck that lying ass of yours.”
The room feels like it’s spinning and for a second I’m sure I’m going to pass out.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage to reply through clenched teeth. I’m finally in a position to cover my mom’s medical bills and a few words from King to the right people could blow everything I’ve built here over the past year.
“Sure you don’t. See you around, Rex,” King says before sauntering out, making sure to give me a hard shoulder bump on his way past.
On unsteady legs, I head straight for Bear’s office. I’m not sure what my plan is, but King can’t work here, and not just because he could destroy my career. He had numerous complaints at Diablo Studios from the women who worked there. He was overly aggressive with them both on and off the set.
I knock at Bear’s door and he calls out for me to come in. When I open the door, I find Rebel seated near Bear behind the desk, which makes sense since I’m sure Rebel is now being included in casting decisions.
“Hey, Campy, come on in.” Bear waves me over.
“Everything okay?” Rebel asks, eyeing me with concern.
“Um, kind of.” I force a smile and drop down into the chair on the opposite side of the desk from them. “That guy you were just interviewing, is he going to be offered a job here?”
“King?” Rebel clarifies and I try to keep my face blank, not wanting to give away how well I know him. “No way, dude has trouble written all over him, and not in a good way.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Okay, cool.” I make a move to stand so I can go get ready for filming today.
“Why, did he say something to you?” Bear asks before I can make it to the door.
“Just sort of hassling me. Didn’t strike me as the type who would fit in here,” I answer vaguely.
“He gave us the impression he knew you,” Rebel adds casually and my heart thunders again.
I shrug and reach for the door handle, my stomach churning. Bear took a chance on me when he hired me, and if he found out I’ve been lying to him this whole time, I can only imagine how badly that would go. Hell, I lied my ass off in the interview itself, claiming I’d never done any porn before and claiming to be gay. When he asked why I wanted to work at Ballsy, I put on a roguish smirk and said, “Who wouldn’t want to get paid to have sex with all these hot guys?” Practically every word I’ve ever said to Bear and the rest of the Ballsy Boys has been a lie, and that fact weighs heavier on me every day. These lies are like quicksand, pulling me deeper and deeper until I have no doubt I’ll be suffocated by them eventually.
“Nope. Gotta go get ready, don’t want to keep Pixie waiting for me,” I say quickly before rushing out of the room without giving them a chance to respond.
My head isn’t in the game the entire time we’re filming, and it’s obvious to everyone.
“Cut,” Rebel calls and I bite the inside of my cheek, embarrassment swamping me as I pull out.
“Want me to suck you a little?” Pixie offers quietly, not commenting directly on the fact that I’ve lost my erection for a second time while fucking him.
“Yeah, sure.” I tug off the condom and toss it into the garbage bin behind the bed, placed there for that very purpose.
Pixie shimmies into a position that will work and wraps his pretty pink lips around my floppy, only half-hard dick. The suction of his mouth does wonders to pull my mind off my worries about King and back to my dick where it belongs while I’m working.
Pixie runs his tongue up and down my length while simultaneously bobbing his head and sucking. The kid is a master of multitasking. I let my eyes fall closed, focusing solely on the feeling of his mouth on me.
Once I’m hard and aching again, he pulls off and smiles up at me.
“Think you’ll be good to go now?”
“Yeah, thanks, sweetie.” I tug him up to press a gentle kiss to his puffy lips.
“It’s not exactly a hardship,” he assures me, giving my cock one more firm stroke before turning around so he’s back on his hands and knees.
One of the crew appears by my side with a fresh condom, which I take and roll on quickly.
“Rolling,” Rebel calls out and the set goes quiet again as I slide back into Pixie’s ass, determined this time to stay focused.
We manage to wrap the scene a short time later with spectacular cum sh
ots from both Pixie and myself and no further mishaps.
Standing in the locker room shower, I close my eyes and let the hot water pelt my face, thinking about how easily King could destroy me. Maybe if I’d been honest from the start that I’d done straight porn before, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but it feels huge. I’ve created an entire persona in Campy, and he doesn’t fuck women, he’s gay. He also doesn’t have dreams of becoming a veterinarian, or a sick mother to take care of. Maybe in some ways, Campy has been a chance to escape from my real life.
Jackson
As soon as I see who's calling, I know that I'm in trouble. I shoulda told them, but then again, how could I? They would’ve tried to talk me out of this. And they might've even succeeded. My mama has making me feel guilty down to an art, and I have a mighty hard time saying no when she gets all emotional. I couldn't let them stop me, not with this opportunity.
My heart beats furiously as I pick up the phone. "Hi, Mama."
"Jackson Bedford Criswell," she starts, and my stomach drops. She's middle-naming me, a clear sign I'm in a heap of trouble. "Where in tarnation are you?"
I lower myself on the couch, my legs suddenly not strong enough to support me. "I'm in LA, Mama."
The quality of the audio changes, and I realize she's put me on speaker phone. Things are about to get even worse. "We just got a letter from your college saying you have dropped out," my dad says. “And when we called the office, they said you moved out weeks ago.”
I could point out that he shouldn't open my mail, since I know that letter was addressed to me and not to them, but that's beside the point now. The bottom line is they know, so now I need to at least try and explain.
"That's right. I've moved to LA to pursue my acting career."
"Oh Jackson," my mom says, the disappointment in her voice cutting through me like a knife. "Why didn't you tell us? Do you realize what a shock it was to find out you had already left the campus, that we didn't even know where our own son was?"
Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4) Page 8
