No Small Parts

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No Small Parts Page 8

by Ally Blue


  The memory of Nat’s answering kiss brought a rush of heat to Rafael’s cheeks. “Actually, it seemed like he was pretty into it, at first.”

  Solari’s lips formed a thoughtful Oh. “What happened, then? And why in the world would he think you’d insulted him?”

  “Well, I got a text from Carter, and that sort of killed the mood. Nat shoved me away like I had Ebola or something. And then I . . .” He stared at the scratched and scarred arm of the wooden folding chair, because he couldn’t stand to meet Solari’s patient, unjudging gaze while he told her the next part and why, exactly, it bothered him so much. “I told him I wouldn’t tell anyone about him. He said he’s bi and he’s not in the closet, and I said I’d assumed he was, because he’d gone out with you.”

  “You’re saying that you assumed he was closeted because he dated a woman instead of a man. Once.”

  Damn, that sounded really awful. “Um. Kind of.”

  “Oh.” Solari tapped a finger against her chin. “That seems a bit . . . thoughtless?”

  “Yeah.” Rafael let out a soft, sad laugh. “He let me have it for that. Told me all the reasons I was wrong for assuming. Then he told me I’m too nosy and I should back off.”

  Solari’s eyes widened. “Well, he’s not one to mince words, is he?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “I’m guessing that’s part of the attraction for you, though, isn’t it?”

  He blushed. “What can I say? I like a man who tells it like it is.”

  “Because you’re smart enough to realize that straightforwardness is a virtue.” She patted his arm. “So, you’re going to talk to him, then? Clear the air?”

  “Definitely.” Even though the idea made Rafael’s pulse gallop. Partly with nerves, partly with possibilities. He started to bite his thumbnail, stopped himself in the nick of time, and pressed the pad of his thumb to his chin instead. “Soon as I work up the courage.”

  “Good man.” She hopped off the chair. “I’m going outside for a bit. I promised I’d call Gina.” She smiled, and it was radiant. “She’s flying out to stay with me for a few weeks.”

  Rafael wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but he had to admit he was biased in the Gina department. His dislike was based entirely on overheard one-sided conversations and Solari’s big, sad eyes.

  He forced a smile. “That’s awesome! I’m sure that’ll be really good for both of you.”

  “It will. I know it.” Beaming like a genie had granted all her wishes, she threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. “Thank you for being my friend.”

  “Always.” He kissed her hair.

  She pulled back. “Good luck with Nat.” She lowered her voice. “For what it’s worth, I think the two of you would make a wonderful couple.”

  The memory of Nat’s mouth on his flooded Rafael’s brain. “Yeah. Me too.”

  Solari pressed his hand with hers, then strode outside, her happiness shining from her like the sun. As Rafael pulled his phone out of his pocket to text Nat and ask when and where they could talk, he noticed a couple of the crew eyeing him. The boom operator cast a glance in the direction Solari had gone, and stepped sideways to say something to the cameraperson. Both of them then stared at Rafael for a couple of long, speculative seconds.

  He bit the insides of his cheeks to stifle a laugh. Maybe a little gossip about Solari and her PA would draw attention away from the rumors about her being gay. Just because those rumors were true didn’t mean Solari hadn’t tried—without success—to kill them.

  He was on his way outside, trying to form an apology in his head, when his phone came to life in his hand and mewed at him. The text icon said Wolfman.

  Mouth dry and heart thumping, Rafael tapped the photo of Nat in his werewolf makeup. Sorry I was a dick before, said the text. Can we talk?

  Relief and joy blossomed in Rafael’s chest. Grinning because he couldn’t help it, he typed his reply so fast he screwed up and had to start over twice. You have nothing to apologize for. You were totally right. Was about to text you when you texted me. Would love to talk. When and where?

  A pause. Rafael waited, his pulse hammering in his ears. The seconds crawled by.

  I’m free now, if you are. Meet me in the trees behind the soundstage.

  In the trees. Where they’d be alone.

  Rafael’s knees went rubbery.

  He drew a deep breath to steady himself, then typed, Be there in five.

  From his spot in the shadows under the trees, Nat watched Rafael turn the corner from the north side of the soundstage, shove his hands in his jacket pockets, and start across the obstacle course of trailers and equipment to the clump of forest where Nat was waiting. Anticipation and anxiety churned in his gut. The kiss yesterday had surprised him, but his own reaction had shocked him to his core. Sure, he’d noticed Rafael. Who wouldn’t have? The man was good-looking in the cute-boy-next-door way that had always pushed Nat’s buttons, plus he had an outgoing, generous nature that drew people to him. The fact that he had no clue only made him more sexy.

  And then there was that jolt whenever they touched. But when Rafael kissed him . . .

  He leaned against the nearest tree and stared up into the sky, remembering the way heat had ripped through him like a firestorm. He’d felt like Sleeping Beauty, the libido he’d neglected for years brought to sudden, fierce life by Rafael’s mouth on his. Rafael’s comment about being in the closet had bugged him, but not enough to keep that kiss—and the need it had awoken in Nat—from distracting him all damn day and haunting his dreams last night.

  He wondered if his willingness to forgive and forget had more to do with physical need than anything else. On the other hand, maybe he was inventing reasons not to let Rafael get too close. Wouldn’t be the first time.

  He thought of Lem—his last actual relationship—and snickered. God, that was sad.

  “What’re you laughing at?”

  Rafael’s voice was closer than Nat had expected. Startled, he blinked and focused on Rafael standing only a few steps away. “Nothing. I was . . .” He shook his head. “Nothing.” Nervous, he smoothed his hand over the cowlick where a weird curve of his hair always showed a strip of scalp. “Um. Thanks for meeting me here.”

  “Thanks for asking.” Rafael stepped close enough for Nat to catch a whiff of his cologne. Something green and woodsy that made Nat think of rain in the forest. “Listen, Nat, I really am sorry for what I said. It was completely thoughtless and wrong. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Already did. Remember?” How could he not? Especially when Rafael gazed at him with those wide, earnest brown eyes. If he hadn’t forgiven Rafael already, that would’ve done it. “You forgive me for being a drama wolf and getting all snippy about it?”

  Rafael’s laugh sounded as edgy as Nat felt. “Drama wolf. Very clever.”

  “That’s me. Clever.” Nat grinned.

  All the humor evaporated from Rafael’s face. He clutched both of Nat’s hands in a hard, slightly damp-palmed grasp. And, yeah, there was that electric zing again. “You weren’t being dramatic. You’re right, I’m too nosy. I get into people’s personal business too much. I butt in where I’m not wanted. And I know we weren’t technically fighting after you left before, but I felt awful. You don’t know how glad I was to hear from you today. I mean, I feel like we’ve gotten to be friends, and I . . .” He stopped, sucked on his lower lip, and stared somewhere over Nat’s right shoulder. “I don’t want to lose that.”

  Nat’s throat went tight. “You won’t.” Following the urge growing to intolerable levels inside him, he tugged Rafael close and bent to kiss him.

  Rafael opened for him with a helpless little noise that shot through Nat’s brain like an arrow. Pulse racing and all his blood pooling between his legs, Nat yanked his hands free of Rafael’s so he could crush Rafael’s body against his.

  That earned him a low growl and a near-painful grip on his hair—Rafael holding his head firmly in place to
take the kiss deep.

  Nat clung to Rafael’s shirt for balance as the world tilted around him. Holy shit. When was the last time he’d been this turned on? He didn’t know. Couldn’t even think past the sex-sex-sex thumping through his mind. God, if he didn’t get Rafael naked and between his legs, he might explode.

  Since he still had enough functioning brain cells to know that wasn’t happening right now, he tore his mouth from Rafael’s and rested their foreheads together. “There’s an arts festival next weekend,” he managed, breathless and panting. “Go with me?”

  “Yeah. Hell yeah.” Rafael angled his head up and kissed Nat again, hard and rough and demanding. “OhmyGod I wanna fuck you so bad I can’t stand it.”

  Shit. Nat closed his eyes and reminded himself that he had to be back in the makeup chair in fifteen minutes, that Rafael probably had someplace to be soon, that they were on the edge of the damn soundstage parking lot. Not exactly private.

  He opened his eyes and met Rafael’s gaze. Christ, he hadn’t been eye-fucked like that in ages. He swallowed hard. “Me too. But not here.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.” Rafael’s lips quirked into a wicked smile. “Later, though. Definitely later.”

  Oh, hell yes. Since the words in his head refused to come out of his mouth, Nat nodded so hard it made him dizzy. Rafael’s eyes went heavy-lidded and glittering, and Nat had to kiss him again. Once more, a taste to tide him over.

  This time, Rafael was the first to pull away. “I should go. Solari’s gonna need me back on set soon.”

  “Yeah. I have to go to makeup.” Nat stared at Rafael’s swollen lips and wanted to bite them. Instead, he made himself let go of Rafael’s shirt. “I don’t want to wait till next weekend to see you again.”

  “Me neither.” Rafael unwound his fingers from Nat’s hair, leaving his scalp feeling bruised. “Want to go grab dinner or something whenever we both have time?”

  “Sure.” Nat felt a big, goofy smile spread over his face, reflecting the happy bubble expanding in his chest. “I’ll walk you to the soundstage, Hollywood.”

  Rafael laughed. “I’ll totally take you up on that, Wolfman.”

  They started across the parking lot side by side. Nat wanted to take Rafael’s hand, but he didn’t. He wasn’t about to invite gossip simply because they had the hots for each other. Maybe one day things would be different. Maybe he’d have a real relationship, eventually. But in the meantime, his sex life was nobody’s business but his.

  The next week turned out to be busier than usual for both of them. Anna was so happy with Nat’s performance on his first scene with lines that she decided to write him in as a semiregular speaking character. Which was great, for lots of reasons, mostly having to do with money. He really wanted a new car, and now he could afford it, if he ever found the time to go shop for one. Not to mention the courage. He hadn’t had money in so long that spending it on nonessentials made him nervous.

  Totally aside from the money, he got to spend more time than ever on set, both rehearsing and shooting, which he loved with a fierceness he’d never felt for anything else.

  A few days ago, that wouldn’t have been an issue. Or at least, it wouldn’t have been an issue in anything but a good way. Now? It kept him and Rafael apart. And he didn’t like that at all.

  The most time they’d managed together so far—not counting the usual rushed craft services lunches—had been dinner at Flat Earth on Wednesday. Which had been nice, but not enough, since they’d both had to get back to work after. Now, Sunday had finally arrived, and Nat couldn’t wait to get out of the house and spend a few hours relaxing and having fun with Rafael. If that fun included a little sex, even better.

  He stuck his phone in one pocket and his wallet in another on his way out of his bedroom, then strode over to where his father sat watching a cooking show on TV. “I’m going out, Dad. I’ll see you later tonight. The home health agency’s sending somebody over to stay with you. She’ll be here in about half an hour, so you be sure to let her in, okay?” He didn’t like that the first time he’d hired a sitter to stay with his dad, she’d called and said she’d be late, but whatever. At least he had the money to do that now.

  If only his dad would quit refusing to join the support group Dr. Willett had recommended. But hey, baby steps.

  “All right.” His father peered up at him with a frown. “Where’re you going?”

  “To the arts fair, with my friend Rafael. I told you that yesterday.” He hadn’t had high hopes of his dad remembering, considering how fuzzy he got sometimes, but hey, nothing ventured, right? “You got everything you need? You’ll remember to let the nurse in?” She was a home care assistant, not a nurse, but Nat didn’t want his dad to think he was being babysat. Even if he was.

  “Yeah, no problem.” His dad smiled, looking so much like his old self that it hurt Nat’s heart. “Have a good time, son.”

  Nat swallowed the lump in his throat. “I will. Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too.” His dad reached over the back of the sofa, grasped Nat’s hand and squeezed, then let go, his attention back on the television.

  For a second, Nat hesitated. His father was rarely relaxed and lucid at the same time anymore. Part of him wanted to stay and enjoy it while it lasted.

  And how long do you think that’ll be? Five minutes? Ten, if it’s a good day?

  Since his inner voice spoke from long, bitter experience, Nat grabbed his keys off the table by the door and headed out into the sunny afternoon.

  The annual Bluewater Bay Arts Fair was always a popular event, mostly because of the lack of much else going on other than Wolf’s Landing-related tourism. But today, it seemed like the whole town plus most of the show’s crew—and even a few of the lesser-known cast members—had packed into Hobb’s Park for the festivities. The sun glittered on the strait, and a cool breeze brought the ever-present scent of pine down from the ridge to mingle with the smells of cotton candy, corn dogs, and deep-fried everything.

  At Nat’s side, Rafael drew a deep breath. “Man, I love the smell of a fair.”

  “Me too.” Nat grinned. “You have to try the red velvet funnel cakes. Frederic Jackson from Cookie Crumbles over on Main Street makes ’em. They’re the best.”

  “Red velvet? Oh yeah, we’re definitely stopping at that booth.” Rafael studied the event guide George Hawk had handed them at the gate. His brown eyes went wide. “Oh my God, there’s a film festival?”

  Nat laughed at the what the hell tone in Rafael’s voice. “If you want to call it that. There’s usually a few short films, some of them good, some of them crappy. It’s not Sundance or anything. But it’s pretty interesting sometimes.” He nudged Rafael with his elbow. “I’d’ve given you the heads-up if I’d known you in time for the entry deadline. It was way back in January, though.”

  Rafael gave him a warm smile that made his insides shiver. “I appreciate the thought. But it’s not like I have anything ready that I could’ve submitted. Maybe next year, huh?”

  Nat nodded, turning the thought over in his head as he and Rafael wove through the crowd toward the row of food trucks. “Yeah. Next year.”

  The idea sent Nat’s pulse racing. He’d never thought that far ahead. Wasn’t sure he should now, when most days he felt like he was barely holding his life together. But damned if he couldn’t see himself coming back here next April with Rafael, heading into the big yellow tent hand in hand to watch one of Rafael’s films. Maybe seeing himself up there on the screen as Roland, the sexy, lonely, vulnerable main character of Inside.

  Not that much had gotten done on that project so far, what with their busy and conflicting schedules. Though they had put their heads together long enough to flesh out the Kickstarter page with a target budget and a pretty decent list of incentives to donate. Rafael had high hopes for it.

  When they reached the row of food trucks, Rafael grasped Nat’s wrists and dragged him straight over to the Cookie Crumbles truck, managing to get
them there as two hipster-types left but before the group of meandering older women could get there. Score. “Two red velvet funnel cakes,” Rafael said to the smiling girl at the window. “And two iced coffees.” He glanced at Nat. “Unless you want something else?”

  Nat shook his head. “Naw, that’s good for me. Thanks.”

  He kept his smile in place while Rafael paid, even though it bugged him a little bit. Shouldn’t he be paying, since he’d been the one to ask Rafael out? On the other hand, he’d bought the tickets—ten bucks each, just call him moneybags—so maybe it was okay to let Rafael buy coffee and funnel cakes.

  Damn, he’d been out of circulation too long. He didn’t know the dating rules anymore. Especially between two men. Especially especially when one of them was a born-and-bred Hollywood boy, used to life on the cutting edge of everything.

  Rafael half turned to hand him the first iced coffee, a green straw already stuck through the lid. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Nat sipped while Rafael gathered his own coffee. The drink was delicious, cold and strong with the perfect touch of milk and simple syrup. “Mmm. Good.”

  “It really is. I’m gonna have to start making Cookie Crumbles a regular stop.” Rafael handed Nat one of the paper plates loaded with hot, fresh red velvet funnel cake, then snagged his straw in his mouth and drew a long, deep swallow. “C’mon, let’s go sit.”

  The picnic tent was only a few dozen yards away, but in the short time it took them to stroll over, Rafael must’ve greeted four or five different people. Not all Wolf’s Landing folks, either. A couple were locals. People Nat recognized, if not any actual friends. Unsurprising, really, since he could count his friends on one hand and have fingers left over. Boy, that was pathetic.

  “Is there anybody you don’t know?” Nat asked, parking himself at one of the few smaller empty tables.

  A totally adorable blush colored Rafael’s cheeks. “People are interesting. Everybody’s got a story to tell, you know? And I love to listen.” He set his heaping plate on the table between them, tore off a piece, and popped it into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed while he chewed. “Oh, my God. You were right. This is manna from heaven.” He opened his eyes again and grinned. “You’d better eat yours before I decide to have both of ‘em for myself.”

 

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