by L. A. Witt
As Levi pulled everything out to make some burgers, the cats emerged from their hiding places. The second Zelda padded into the kitchen, Levi hoisted her up and draped her over his shoulder. She held on, back paws braced against his shoulder blade with the front clamped down on his chest. As he leaned over to get a frying pan out of a cabinet, he paused, grabbing the counter as she threw his balance off.
“Good God, cat. You’re getting heavy.”
She just purred and started kneading.
Behind him, Carter laughed. “Does she always sit there like that?”
“Yep.” Levi rose slowly, Zelda still perched comfortably. “Keeps her out of trouble and keeps my hands free.”
“And she doesn’t scratch?”
“Well”—Levi gingerly plucked one of her claws off his shirt—“she doesn’t scratch much.” He turned his head toward her. “Do you, baby?”
She bumped the top of her head against his face, catching him right in the mouth. As he sputtered and tried to brush the fur off his lip and nose, Carter laughed. And of course, Zelda started kneading harder.
“Do you regularly cook like that?” Carter asked. “With a cat riding shotgun?”
“More often than I care to admit. As long as she’s on my shoulder, she stays out of everything else.”
“Looks like she’s got you trained.”
She purred even louder.
“Yeah, she does.” Levi patted her paw. “She was not happy when my physical therapist wouldn’t let me carry her at all.”
“You couldn’t carry your cat?”
“She’s twenty-two pounds. I couldn’t lift more than fifteen for almost six months.”
Carter’s eyes widened. “Really? Why?”
“Neck and shoulder.” Levi adjusted Zelda slightly, then started putting together a salad. “After the accident.”
“Oh. Right.”
Heat rushed into Levi’s cheeks. It was still weird to think people who hadn’t known him back then knew about the wreck. Not that it should have been a surprise. The accident had been all over the goddamned news and internet—he was thankful as hell he’d been doped up and hospitalized for most of that. Carter had probably seen all the speculation about Levi’s blood alcohol content, the extent of his injuries, and his prognosis.
And why the hell did I bring it up?
“Anyway.” He nuzzled the cat on his shoulder. “She wasn’t happy for a while, but she was thrilled when I could finally carry her like this again.”
“I can imagine.” Carter laughed, meeting Levi’s eyes and making his heart jump. “Sounds like you made a full recovery.”
Levi shifted a little, hoping it looked like he was adapting to Zelda’s weight instead of fidgeting. “Took a while, but . . . yeah. Aside from some stiff muscles now and then, I do all right.”
“Good.” Carter smiled, and it didn’t strike Levi as patronizing or fake. It wasn’t that tight-lipped expression some people gave him, the one that was a mix of pity and “you brought it on yourself, idiot.” Carter knew what had happened—what the media had reported anyway—but he was still . . .
Damn it, Carter. It’d be a lot easier to switch back to ‘just friends’ if you weren’t such a good friend.
Levi managed to cook without much trouble in spite of his twenty-plus-pound passenger and the incredibly distracting man on the other side of the counter. When the food was just about ready, he pulled some fixings out of the refrigerator, and then leaned down to let Zelda jump to the floor.
As he stood, rolling his shoulder, he gestured at everything he’d put on the counter. “I don’t know what condiments you like, so help yourself.”
“Great, thanks.”
Once they’d assembled their burgers, they moved out onto the deck. As Levi was setting his glass and plate on the table, Carter suddenly gasped behind him.
“Shit! Cats!”
Levi turned around as Zelda and Link trotted out onto the deck. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re allowed out here.”
Carter’s eyebrows jumped. “Are you sure?”
“Yep, it’s fine.”
Carter shut the sliding glass door and came over to the table. “I thought they were indoor cats.”
“They are, but there’s no way for them to get to the ground and take off, and I doubt they’d try anyway.” Levi reached down and scratched behind Link’s ears. “They’re a little too spoiled to go running off into the woods.”
“Good point.”
As Levi and Carter settled at the table with their food, Zelda clawed her way up onto the railing and Link occupied one of the two empty chairs.
Levi wagged a finger at Link. “No begging.”
The cat just eyed him like he’d lost his mind. Link sat up in his chair, and at his size, had no trouble seeing over the edge of the table. His eyes flicked back and forth from Carter’s plate to Levi’s.
Carter laughed. “Somehow I don’t think he’s listening.”
“He never does.” Levi tore off two tiny pieces of hamburger. He set one on the chair in front of Link and put the other on the railing for Zelda.
Carter smirked. “Gee, I can’t imagine why they don’t listen to you when you tell them not to beg.”
“Hey. Hey. Don’t judge me.”
“Oh, I’m judging you.” Carter took a bite of his burger and watched Link and Zelda going to town on their morsels of meat.
“Fine. Judge.” Levi jerked his chin toward the cats. “You don’t have to live with them when they don’t get their way.”
Carter chuckled.
They ate in silence for a little while, both gazing out at the forest and the Olympic Mountains. Levi tried not to steal glances—especially lingering ones—at Carter, but damn, it was a challenge. Subtly admiring a gorgeous man from a distance was one thing. Keeping himself from staring at one he’d almost had? Jesus.
Carter seemed to have made the shift back to “just friends” with ease. He was obviously more relaxed now—his features weren’t so taut, and he laughed at the cats’ antics in between nibbling his burger as if he didn’t have a worry in the world. He and Levi could talk and hang out. They could casually brush against the subject of Levi’s wreck, and they could eat together in comfortable—well, relatively comfortable—silence. They enjoyed each other’s company.
Basically, they were a few kisses and a hot sex life away from the kind of relationship Levi hadn’t had in ages. Damn. It would’ve been perfect too. But they couldn’t go there.
Levi gritted his teeth and picked at his salad. Trust Hollywood and his family to fuck up something else in his life.
“You okay?”
Levi realized Carter was watching him, and his brow was furrowed with concern.
“Oh. Yeah. I’m . . .” Levi reached for his drink. “I’m good. Just spacing out.”
Carter eyed him skeptically, but didn’t press the issue. He turned his head back toward the scenery. “Man, I can see why you bought a place out here. Everyone shits on Bluewater Bay, but I love it, and this . . .” He gestured at the trees and mountains. “It’s amazing.”
“Right? I love it. And it was definitely a switch from SoCal.”
“That’s what I like about it. I never did get used to living in the desert.” Carter paused. “What about you? Where’d you live before LA?”
“Maryland. Grew up out on the Eastern Shore. It’s a bit warmer than it is here, but it’s greener than LA, which is why I liked this area so much.”
“Everything is greener than LA.” Carter set his burger down and wiped his fingers on his napkin. “That was one of the selling points for this role, to be honest.”
“Living here versus there?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t blame you. And at least if you want to travel from here, you just have to deal with Sea-Tac, not LAX.”
Carter groaned. “God, that is such a lifesaver. I’d rather eat glass than deal with LAX.”
“You and everyone else.”
&nbs
p; He laughed. “And the ironic thing is, I haven’t had to use Sea-Tac much. Most of the traveling I do is for conventions and the occasional talk show or awards shindig.”
“No vacations?”
Carter shook his head. “I haven’t gotten to travel as much as I’d like. For pleasure, I mean. You know, aside from the occasional cruise, and I’ve goofed off when I’ve gone to some exotic locations for films, but . . .” He shrugged. “Just haven’t done a lot as a tourist.”
“You’re missing out. Have you at least done some traveling around here? Canada? Seattle?”
“Oh yeah. I go to Seattle a few times a year, and I’ve been up to Victoria two or three times. Some of the guys from the show go out fishing every chance they get, but I haven’t been.”
Levi blinked. “You’ve lived here for how long?”
He shrugged. “Coming on two years now, I think.”
“And you’ve never been out fishing? Not once?”
“Not even once.”
“How in the . . . You know what? Let’s fix that. I’ve been itching to get back out on the water, and the weather’s supposed to be perfect for the next week.” Levi smiled. “You want to go?”
Carter didn’t answer immediately. He took a drink and rolled it around on his tongue as he looked out at the trees, likely oblivious to the way Levi’s gut had clenched. Maybe the idea of an afternoon with him on a boat, completely alone, was too weird. Okay, so they were alone now, and far from Bluewater Bay, but a boat would—
“Sounds like fun.” Carter turned to him at last and smiled. “So you have your own boat and everything?”
Oh, thank God. Levi returned the smile. “Of course. Bought her before I’d even closed on the house. I wanted to make up for lost time.” He sipped his Coke. “When is good for you?”
Carter’s eyes lost focus for a moment. “Well, I’m on set tomorrow, but unless something changes, I’m off the next day.”
“Works for me. Just meet me down at the marina. Only one in town. My boat’s in slip twenty-two. Say, eight?”
“I’ll be there.” Carter met Levi’s gaze.
“Great. You’ll love it.” And I’ll try not to be too . . . Levi cleared his throat, his spine tingling from simply looking at Carter. “Especially if the weather holds out. And this time of year, we might even see some gray whales.”
“Whales? Really?”
“Yeah.” Levi smirked. “It is the ocean, you know.”
Carter rubbed his eye with his middle finger.
Levi chuckled. “Oh, and sometimes the porpoises come out. They’re a lot of fun. They’ll jump alongside the boat and across the bow.”
“Wow, cool. Sounds like you could make a killing doing whale-watching tours.”
“Yeah, but the companies in Port Townsend and Port Angeles already have that market pretty well cornered. And besides, I’m not crazy about taking a big group out there.”
“You don’t mind taking me out, though?”
Levi smiled. “You’re not a big group. And it’s fishing. I’m not going to say no to fishing.”
And I definitely won’t mind being out on a boat with you.
They never did make it down to the theater. When the bugs started coming out, Levi herded the cats back inside, and he and Carter sat in the living room with their drinks until it was almost eleven.
“Wow, it’s late again.” Carter sat up and stretched. “I guess I should get out of your hair. I have to be on the set early tomorrow anyway. Again.”
“Occupational hazard?”
“Yep.”
Before he left, Carter helped bring in the dishes from dinner. They didn’t talk much—maybe Carter knew as well as Levi that if they fell into another conversation, they’d be here all night. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though. Not like it had been when he’d arrived tonight. That lack of conversation had been fraught with uncertainty and awkwardness. Now it was the complete opposite, which was a bigger relief than he dared let on.
Levi glanced at Carter. And his pulse shifted. Up. Down. Up again. Just looking at him threw Levi off.
Yeah, they’d settled their issues from last night, which was a relief, but who was he kidding? He was beyond frustrated now. One moment of touching onstage, a few kisses, and suddenly it drove him crazy not to be able to touch Carter at all.
Just need to get used to the idea. That’s all. Last night shook things up. Give it time.
They still didn’t say much even as Carter headed out for the evening, but on his way down the walk, he turned around, eyebrows raised. “We’re still on for fishing, right?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too. I’ll see you then.”
They held each other’s gazes for a few seconds longer than they probably should have, but finally Carter continued toward his car while Levi went back into the house.
He shut the door and leaned against it, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. The evening had gone better than he’d expected. Though he still wanted Carter, and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon, he could get used to this. It was simply an adjustment. And he did feel a hell of a lot better than he had after leaving the theater last night.
Now they were going fishing together. As friends. Nothing more.
Maybe they could pull this off after all.
It was a perfect day to spend on a boat. Clear skies, calm seas—not a cloud or a whitecap in sight as Carter gazed out at the ocean from his second-floor balcony. He had learned real quick that the constant grayness of the Pacific Northwest was largely a myth. There were lots of drizzly, depressing days, especially around Seattle on the other side of Puget Sound, but out here on the Olympic Peninsula? It was fucking gorgeous. And he’d also learned the hard way that putting makeup over a sunburn sucked, so he was bringing plenty of sunscreen with him today.
Carter usually drove the Porsche, but when he wanted to lay low, he brought out the piece-of-shit Taurus he’d been driving since before he’d signed his first contract. It was dusty with bald tires and chipped paint, and the perpetually dirty windshield still had his junior college parking permits and a crack from two winters ago. Perfect for disappearing into the crowd.
The house he rented was a couple of miles outside of Bluewater Bay, tucked back in a tiny cul-de-sac not far from the main road. Not as secluded as Levi’s place, but not out in the open either, so when he left in his “urban camouflage” car, very few people were around to notice.
Not far from the marina, Carter circled a block a few times to make sure no one was following him. There wasn’t a camera lens in sight, and he decided if anyone was subtle enough to go unnoticed—and had recognized him in spite of the car—then they deserved to get a few shots.
Of me. Of Levi. Of us together.
Oh God.
No, they won’t see anything incriminating, because we’re not doing anything incriminating. He held the wheel tighter. We’re friends. We’ve got this.
Right?
Only one way to find out . . .
He parked, glanced around again out of habit, and then continued to the marina. Each row of boats was labeled with the slip numbers, so he found the row marked “Slips 15-30,” and walked down the weathered pier between the bobbing bows of everything from tiny fishing boats and sailboats to massive yachts.
“Right on time.”
Levi’s voice came from behind him, and spun him on his heel. And there he was, a red-and-white plastic cooler balanced on his hip and a pair of sunglasses pushed up onto the top of his head.
“Oh. Hey.” Carter laughed. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“It’s all right. I was just a few boats down.” Levi tilted his head back in the direction he’d come from. “Grabbing something from a buddy of mine.”
Carter stiffened. It hadn’t occurred to him that someone might see them here, once they’d made it past the marina’s gate. “Is your friend . . .” As guarded as Levi was about his privacy, this would have t
o be one hell of a trusted friend. Carter hoped, anyway.
“Relax.” Levi continued toward his own slip. “There’s no one else here. He just borrowed my cooler and left it for me to pick up.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Come on.”
Levi’s boat turned out to be a midsized one. Not as big as the yachts, but definitely more impressive than the fishing boats. Maybe thirty feet long or so, complete with a small living space belowdecks.
“Wow, this is really nice.”
“Thanks.” Levi smiled. “She’s kind of my second home.”
Carter snickered. “So you really did come to Bluewater Bay and buy a mobile home.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”
Before long, they were out on the water, Levi steering while Carter watched the scenery go by. He’d been a little afraid he’d get seasick, but so far, so good. Even when the seas got rougher, when he had to hold on to the railing to keep his balance, his stomach stayed put.
Levi glanced at him, eyes hidden by dark lenses. “Not getting sick on me, are you?”
“No, no, I’m good.” Carter loosened his grip on the railing. “Still getting my legs under me, I guess.”
“You’ll get your sea legs after a while. Everyone’s a little unsteady the first time out.” Either Levi had spent a lot of time on the water, or he had naturally perfect balance, because he moved around on the deck so easily, it looked effortless. Even when a large swell lifted the boat and dropped it unceremoniously, throwing Carter into the railing, Levi just casually braced himself with an arm against the cabin. It was like he didn’t even notice. Obviously someone had obtained his sea legs a long time ago.
Carter’s head was light now, and his balance was all fucked up. He tried to blame the boat’s rocking—that was bullshit. The rocking didn’t help, but the seas were only part of the problem. If they’d been on solid, dry land, he would’ve been just as unsteady.
Because . . . Levi.
It was no wonder someone had thought to cast the man in an action role—he sure had the body for it. Though he didn’t have the bronze tan he’d had back then; a few years in the Pacific Northwest had that effect on everybody. Still, he obviously spent time out in the sun whenever he could, and he had some color on his powerful back and shoulders.
