by L. A. Witt
Hang in there. It’s almost over.
Thank God. It’s going better than I thought it would, but I’m ready for them to go.
We’ll celebrate w/movies when they leave.
Hell yes.
Will have to be after this weekend, though. Heading to RainCon.
Oh that’s right. Forgot it was this weekend. Looking forward to it?
You bet. This con’s small, but it’s even better than Comic-Con.
Awesome. Have a good time!
Will do. And will text as much as I can, but it’ll be busy.
Don’t worry about it. You should be enjoying the con. I’ll be here when you get back.
Pulling away from the airport after a visit from his parents was always a liberating experience. It hadn’t been a bad visit, considering some of their previous ones, but there was no such thing as easy where they were concerned. Progress, though. Progress.
Of course, he hadn’t managed to come out to them in spite of almost working up the nerve more than once. He hated himself for caring so much about how they’d react. For being so damned afraid of their disapproval and disappointment.
As Sea-Tac International faded behind him, he was tempted to send an I’m free! text as soon as he stopped. He didn’t, though. The convention had started this morning, and the last thing Carter would want to do was look at his phone. If he was anything like Levi, he probably didn’t even have his cell on him. So much easier to enjoy a con without that constant distraction.
I-5 took Levi north into Seattle so he could grab a ferry and head back to Bluewater Bay. On the way into the city, a thought occurred to him.
The convention was in Seattle.
As his stomach somersaulted, he drove right past the exit for the Bremerton ferry, making a half-assed attempt to rationalize that he was going farther north to take the Kingston ferry instead. Any excuse to drive past the con, right?
Especially since there was no avoiding the venue—the Washington State Convention Center was situated in the heart of downtown Seattle, in plain sight right over the top of Interstate 5. As he flew up the freeway, that huge building dead ahead, Levi rapidly drummed his fingers on the wheel.
He could drop in. Day passes weren’t sold out. The Wolf’s Landing panel was this afternoon. Probably standing room only, as they always were, but he was pretty sure he could get Anna or someone to squeeze him in. Even if he didn’t make it to the panel, he could say hello to Carter.
No. He’d wait until next week when Carter was back in Bluewater Bay. Showing up at a con—even if he had a following of his own at these things, not to mention an upcoming role on Wolf’s Landing—smacked of being a bit more clingy than a friend should be. It felt too much like changing the rules.
I know we’re supposed to be just friends, but . . .
Yeah, that wouldn’t fuel any rumors.
They were friends, and they would stay friends, and Levi would wait until they saw each other in Bluewater Bay rather than crashing the con. No sense giving Carter—or anyone else—a reason to believe he wanted more than their comfortable, platonic friendship. Just walking down the sidewalk together had been enough to spark rumors. Rumors that had gotten him and Carter talking, which had led to—
Yeah, this probably isn’t a good idea.
He drove under the convention center’s overpass, and kept right on driving.
By Monday evening, Levi hadn’t heard from Carter, but he wasn’t worried. He’d been to enough conventions himself to understand the need to decompress. After a particularly crazy Comic-Con one year, he’d turned his phone off for three solid days. Maybe Carter handled them a little better than he had, but either way, Levi would leave the ball in Carter’s court for now.
And even if he didn’t call or text, they’d see each other soon enough—tomorrow was Levi’s first day on the set. As he climbed the stairs with a script and his iPad under his arm, plus a pack of frozen peas in his hand, he had that nervous, queasy-but-excited feeling in his stomach that he always got before starting a new role. He’d had it the first time he’d gone onstage in high school, and he’d had it the night before he’d shown up to play Chad Eastwick for the last time. It had absolutely nothing to do with the man who’d be acting opposite him tomorrow. Nothing at all.
He set everything on the bed, and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Now that his folks were gone, the tension in his neck and shoulder was slowly dissipating, but they were definitely still tender, so he intended to ice them for a little while before he went to sleep.
When he came back from the bathroom, the cats had already settled onto as much of the bed as two twenty-pound cats could occupy. Link had sprawled out across one side, and Zelda was lying beside Levi’s iPad on top of the frozen vegetables.
“What are you—” He nudged her out of the way. “Those are cold, you weirdo.”
She batted at his hand as he took the pack, and he laughed. They played for a minute or so while Link watched, Zelda attacking Levi with her huge paws but keeping her claws in. He smiled—both cats had been MIA for the last week and a half, hiding under his bed or in unoccupied rooms, and it was good to have them out and about again.
After Zelda got bored chasing Levi’s hand, he picked her up and moved her so there was room for him. Then he climbed into bed and stacked a few pillows behind his back so he could sit against the headboard. Once he had the frozen peas pressed comfortably—more or less—between his neck and the headboard, he propped his iPad up on his knee.
When he checked his email, he saw that Anna had sent out a message to the cast and crew with links to photos from the convention.
You all did great this weekend! Fans are raving about the entire Wolf’s Landing gang. Check out the pictures!
Levi tapped the link, which brought up dozens of photos of the cast on their panel, posing with costumed fans and signing autographs. He tapped the first, and went through them one at a time.
Three photos in was a shot of Carter, and Levi’s breath caught. They hadn’t seen each other in a week and a half, and suddenly it seemed like longer. Goddamn, now he couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Even if they were just friends.
He continued through the photos. He hadn’t met the crew or even most of the cast, but he recognized the actors from the show. It would be interesting to meet them all—going from a fan of the show to a member of the cast would be cool and a little surreal.
He paused on a photo when a face in the background caught his eye. Why did that guy look familiar?
Oh hell. Who knew? These cons were crawling with actors—Levi must’ve seen him in a movie he couldn’t remember off the top of his head. And he’d probably feel like an idiot once he figured out which movie—and actor—it was. Or maybe he’d just seen him in a few other shots.
The next set of photos looked like they’d been taken backstage at the panel, where some incredibly lucky and happy fans had had a chance to do a meet and greet with the cast. Several of them were beaming in photos with Carter, whose smile made Levi’s spine tingle.
And in the background, there was that guy again.
A couple of shots later, there he was again. And again. And again.
The next shot was of some more cast members, but Carter wasn’t in the foreground.
He was in the background.
With the other guy.
Levi’s heart plummeted. They weren’t posing, weren’t interacting with anyone aside from each other, and though Levi couldn’t see Carter’s face, he could see that guy’s hand resting conspicuously on Carter’s hip.
Oh. Fuck.
Out of sheer curiosity—or because he was a fucking masochist—Levi kept looking through the photos, all the way to last night’s after-party.
And there it was, the image that said it all.
Carter may not have even known they were being photographed. By the way he and the other guy were gazing at each other, arms around shoulders and a hand on Carter’s thigh, he’d probably all but forgotten there was anyon
e else there.
Levi swallowed.
Good. Good for him.
I should be there by the time you’re finished shooting.
Carter smiled at the text from Marcus. Just a few more hours.
Can’t wait. See you tonight.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and held still so the makeup artist could apply a fake gash to his temple. Ironic that he was being made to look like he’d just had the shit kicked out of him when he couldn’t stop smiling.
They’d met after Marcus’s panel with the other voice actors from a Seattle-based anime series, and from that point forward, they’d spent the entire con flirting. He didn’t even care if the cameras saw them. Let the tabloids talk—he was having a great time.
By Sunday afternoon, they’d been slipping away every chance they had for a discreet kiss or two. If Marcus hadn’t had to be at the studio early Monday morning, Carter was almost certain they would’ve spent Sunday night in one of their rooms at the Four Seasons, but with a few loaded comments and mouthwatering looks, they’d gone their separate ways.
All the way back to Bluewater Bay, Carter had been grinning like an idiot.
Just a few more hours . . .
The makeup artist finished with him, and Carter made his way to the set. The shooting schedule was light today. No major stunts, thank fuck—he and Ginsberg both needed a break after last week. He might even be out of here by the time Marcus showed up, and they could—
Carter stopped dead in his tracks.
His heart dropped.
Levi.
Standing with Anna while another makeup artist touched up his face, he was every inch Max Fuhrman—the green army jacket covered in tattered patches, faded camouflage pants, dark hair tousled just right to make him look a little unhinged—but he was all Levi to Carter.
You’ve moved on. You knew you were going to be working with him, but you’ve moved on. Get a grip.
Carter turned away and dug his phone out of his pocket, hoping for a text from Marcus, but none had come through. Out of desperation, he scrolled through their last few messages.
Think I should take the Bainbridge or Bremerton ferry?
I’d take the Kingston.
Really? OK.
Trust me.
I should be there by the time you’re finished shooting.
Can’t wait. See you tonight.
They couldn’t have been any more mundane, but they were something to distract himself. What the hell was his problem, anyway? He’d made peace with the way things were with Levi. And besides, Marcus would be here in a few hours. Now that they’d have some time alone, without all the exhaustion and chaos of a convention, they could finally—
“Carter?”
Oh fuck.
He turned around. “Hey. How’s it going?”
“Not bad.” Levi smiled, but it looked halfhearted. “How are you doing?”
“I’m all right.” Carter managed a smile too. “Welcome to the nuthouse.”
Levi chuckled. “Thanks. It’s, uh, great to see you again.”
“Yeah. You too.” Really great. Christ. “Recovering from the visit?”
“Slowly. Actually, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Still stressful, but . . .” He shrugged. “So I, um, heard you had a good time at RainCon.”
Heat rushed into Carter’s cheeks. “You heard about that?”
“About—” Levi put up his hands and shook his head. “No, no, I meant the con. Itself. Not . . . uh . . .”
“You did hear, though.” Carter shifted his weight. “About me and Marcus.”
“I . . . well, I saw the pictures from the con. The ones Anna sent out.”
“Oh. Right.” Even when it was just pictures sent around to the cast and crew, this whole “living in a fishbowl” thing was never going to feel normal. “I was hoping to tell you myself. It’s, uh—”
“Carter.” Levi met his eyes. “It’s okay. You don’t owe me an explanation for what you do with your own life.”
“Right. I know, but . . .” Carter shook his head. “Anyway. Maybe this weekend, we can catch up over some DVDs?”
“I’m free whenever you are. You’re welcome to come by anytime this week.”
“I would, but Marcus is . . .”
“Oh.” Levi may have been a great actor, but when it was his own emotions and not a character’s, he couldn’t fake a smile to save his life. “Well, have a good time.”
“I will. But this weekend? Definitely.”
“Great. The play closed on Saturday, so my schedule’s wide open.” He gestured at the set. “At least until things pick up here, anyway.”
Carter laughed. “Yeah. Enjoy that free time while you have it. Once you’re a regular cast member . . .”
“I fully intend to enjoy it, believe me.” Beat. “I mean . . .”
Their eyes locked. Carter’s heart jumped. He swallowed, and was about to break the silence, but Anna’s assistant appeared beside them. “You two are on in five.”
Levi nodded. “Thanks.” He turned to Carter. “Guess that’s our cue.”
“Yeah. Guess so. See you on the set.”
“See you there.”
It was an outdoor shoot today, using the end of the warehouse where the exterior had been converted to look like the front of the police station.
A crew member put a pair of handcuffs on Levi and helped him into the back of the squad car parked outside the “station.” Paul took his place in the driver’s seat, with Joe in the passenger seat, and Carter stood beside the entrance to the building with a smoldering cigarette in his hand.
“Quiet on the set,” Anna barked, and all the activity ceased. “Action.”
Paul and Joe got out of the car. As Paul went around to the back to open the door, Joe approached Carter.
Carter dropped his cigarette on the concrete.
Paul smirked. “Those things’ll kill ya, you know.”
Carter threw him a look as he crushed the cigarette under his heel. “This is the guy? Max Fuhrman?”
Paul nodded. “This is the guy.” He turned around, and they both watched as Joe dragged a struggling Levi—Max—out of the back of the car.
“Where’d you find him?”
“Half a mile from where she ditched her vehicle.”
Carter eyed Levi the way Gabriel was supposed to eye Max, pretending that didn’t fuck up his ability to speak. “So he was nearby. Doesn’t mean he knows anything.”
“There wasn’t another soul for miles.” Paul shrugged. “Wasn’t like anybody was just gonna happen by that car.”
Still watching Levi, Carter scowled. “Circumstantial at best.”
“Yeah, but we found this in that trailer he lives in.” Paul handed Carter an evidence bag containing some photos. Sweet, merciful distraction.
For several seconds, Carter studied the images, thankful no one—not even the cameras—knew his mind was on Levi. Then he handed the bag back and faced Levi again. “Put him on ice. I’ve . . .” He gulped. Crap. “I’ve . . .”
“Cut!”
Fuck.
He turned to Anna and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“It happens. Go back to right before Paul hands over the evidence.”
Carter nodded. He handed back the evidence bag.
“Action!”
Carter shrugged. “Circumstantial at best.”
“Yeah, but we found this in that trailer he lives in.” Paul gave him the evidence again.
As scripted, Carter studied the photos, heart pounding as he chastised himself for letting Levi get to him like that. What in the world is the matter with—
Paul made a subtle throat-clearing sound.
“Put him on ice.” Carter gave back the prop. “I’ve got another potential witness I need to talk to first.” He started to walk away, adding over his shoulder, “Nobody talks to Fuhrman except for me.”
Behind him, Paul sighed heavily. “You heard the man.”
“And
cut!”
Carter closed his eyes and released a breath. He needed to get a grip. Stat. Levi hadn’t even had any lines yet. He’d only been dragged out of the car while Carter and Paul talked. If Carter couldn’t handle that much, what the fuck was he going to do during tomorrow’s interrogation scene?
Carter had just wrapped up the day’s shooting—mercifully, most of his scenes had involved other actors besides Levi—when his phone buzzed.
Be there in 5.
Carter quickly finished removing the last of his makeup, grabbed his coat, and headed outside right as Marcus’s Lexus pulled into the gravel parking area. Heart going a million miles an hour, he made his way from the warehouse door to the lot.
The engine shut off, and when Marcus stepped out of his car, he grinned at Carter. “Hey you. Long time no see.”
“Much too long.” Carter returned the grin, trying to push away the weird guilt that was taking up residence in his chest. What the hell? I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I left Seattle.
A few spaces down from Marcus’s car, Levi’s Jeep caught his eye. He quickly pulled his gaze away from it. This was stupid. He had nothing to feel guilty about.
Marcus put a hand on Carter’s waist and kissed him gently, and the guilt was immediately replaced by the giddy fluttery feeling he’d had all weekend long.
He drew back and met Marcus’s eyes. “It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise.” Marcus kissed him again. “So, what’s the plan for this evening?”
Carter’s throat tightened. “Uh, well. We . . .” Let’s not beat around the bush. We both know why we wanted to see each other.
Marcus ran his fingertips along Carter’s cheek. “Relax. We have three days. Why don’t we grab something to eat for now, and then see where the night takes us?”
As if either of us don’t know where it’s going to take us.
“Okay. Sure.” Carter slipped his hand into Marcus’s. “There’s an awesome bar and grill in town. Want to try it?”
“Sounds great.”
They climbed into Marcus’s car and headed into town.
All the way back to Bluewater Bay, the butterflies in Carter’s stomach refused to quit, and it wasn’t just excitement. Why the hell am I so nervous? Sure, there was always a little performance anxiety the first time he was with someone new, especially when there’d been time to build up some anticipation, but this felt . . . different. Not quite nauseating, but almost.
