No Small Parts

by Ally Blue

  “I understand.” Rafael scooted off the bed and stood beside Nat, feeling awkward as hell. Should he get dressed too? Should he walk Nat out? All he wanted to do was cling to him like a vine, but he wasn’t sure Nat would welcome that. He chewed his lip. “Can I see you again?”

  Nat finished pulling his T-shirt on. “You’d better, Hollywood.” He grabbed Rafael’s wrist and tugged. “C’mere.”

  Relieved, Rafael molded his naked body to Nat’s clothed one and lifted his face for a kiss every bit as electric as the others. The way they fit together already felt natural. Easy. Like they’d been a couple for years, rather than newly minted lovers who might or might not end up being something more than friends with benefits.

  It should’ve been scary. Instead, Rafael found it exhilarating.

  He was still trying to decide exactly what that meant long after Nat had left with a heart-thumping smile and a promise to call later. The thing was, he had a sinking feeling he already knew. What he didn’t know was what in the name of everything holy he was going to do about it. He’d come to Bluewater Bay to kick-start his career, not find a man.

  Oh well. Happiness was where you found it, as his mom was always telling him. There was no reason he couldn’t have a fabulous directing career and a fulfilling relationship.

  Whoa there, cowboy. Better figure out how Nat feels about that before you build a whole domestic fairytale castle around him.

  With a deep sigh, Rafael dragged himself into the bathroom. Maybe a long, hot shower would bring him back to Earth. And help him decide when—or whether—to tell Nat he might be falling for him.

  Nat floated through the first half of the next week in a golden haze. He hadn’t been this relaxed in ages, smiling at everyone he passed at work, handling his father with a patience he didn’t realize he possessed.

  Maybe Suz was right and he’d only needed to get laid. Not that he’d spilled the beans about what had happened between him and Rafael, but the girl was like a damn bloodhound. She always knew.

  No, he mused, watching Rafael saunter toward their usual lunch spot, his whole face lit up with his smile. No, there was definitely more than sex going on here. Even the most incredible sex in the world couldn’t account for the funny twist in Nat’s stomach every time Rafael glanced his way.

  “Hey.” Rafael slid into the seat beside Nat, tilted his head, and pecked Nat on the lips. “Sorry I’m late. It’s been a crazy morning.”

  “It’s cool.” Nat glanced around, amazed for the millionth time that no one seemed to care that two guys were kissing at the lunch table. Around the set, it didn’t seem to be a big deal unless one of the people doing the kissing was a star. “You got any idea what they’re doing over there?” He waved his plastic fork at the temporary stage set up a little ways off, complete with sound system and a cordoned-off area crammed shoulder to shoulder with slick-looking men and women in suits, and shaggier people toting big professional cameras.

  Rafael’s nose scrunched. “Solari’s holding a press conference.”

  “Huh? How come?” The lightbulb went on in Nat’s head, and his stomach dropped into his feet. “Oh shit. She’s not.”

  “She is.” Rafael scooped up hummus on a carrot stick and chomped viciously. “I’d really, really love to tell her what I think of that, but I won’t. It’s not my business, and she wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

  Christ. Nat would’ve loved to weigh in on the subject himself, but Rafael was right. Solari might be a friend—correction, she definitely counted as a friend now—but that didn’t give either of them the right to tell her how to live her life. Shaking his head, he popped a cheese cube into his mouth.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He was reaching for it when Solari walked up to the microphone on the temporary stage. Gina hovered at her side, looking both thrilled with the whole business and ready to tear apart any reporter who said the wrong thing. Which earned her points in Nat’s book. Deciding the text could wait a few minutes, he turned his attention to the stage.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.” Solari’s smile dazzled even from several dozen yards away, but Nat heard the faint thread of hesitancy in her voice, and it hurt his heart. “Thank you so much for joining me here today. I have news that I’m quite excited to share with the world.”

  “Like hell,” Rafael muttered, low enough that only Nat would hear.

  Since there was nothing to say to make it better for anyone—least of all Solari—Nat took Rafael’s hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed. In return, Rafael shot him a swift, shining glance that had his heart turning backflips—and made him miss the Big Fucking Moment. He only knew it had happened because of the explosion of questions and photo flashes from the press pit.

  Oh well. It didn’t matter, really. He knew what she’d planned to say, more or less, and he wasn’t sure he could stand to watch the press circle like sharks scenting blood. Watching Rafael was way better. In fact, he could stare at Rafael’s ever-changing expressions for hours and never get tired of it. The man wore his heart on his sleeve—or on his face, to be accurate—and Nat found that endlessly fascinating.

  Onstage, Solari answered questions from reporters about how long she and Gina had been together, were they “exclusively lesbian,” why had she pretended to date men, on and on and on. She seemed calm, but Nat saw the way her feet shifted behind the podium and knew she wanted to escape the onslaught as badly as he would’ve wanted to in her place.

  Gina’s voice cut through the chatter. “All right, that’s all the questions we’re going to answer for now.” She aimed a wide smile at the wall of people. “Thank you for your time.”

  All the reporters started shouting at once. A forest of mics and cameras bristled toward the two women. Solari turned away with her blank face on and exited the stage, cool as ice cream on a summer day. Gina wrapped a possessive arm around Solari’s shoulders as the pair descended the steps at the rear of the stage, slipped through the human curtain of security guards, and headed for Solari’s trailer. At least Gina seemed to be doing her best to be protective and supportive, which was good.

  Rafael grunted. “Well, that’s that, I guess. I hope it works out well for her.”

  “Me too.” Nat laid a mozzarella square on top of a wheat cracker, swiped it through the dwindling puddle of salsa on his plate, and popped the whole business in his mouth. “’Uckin’ ra’or’ers.”

  Grinning, Rafael stole one of his pepper jack squares. “What was that in English?”

  Nat chewed and swallowed. “I said, ‘Fucking reporters.’ At least Gina’s being cool about it.”

  Rafael scrunched up his nose. “I guess.”

  Nat grinned. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

  That earned him an evil side-eye, which made him laugh. Rafael kicked his ankle under the table. “Shut up.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He snatched a carrot stick from Rafael’s stack and loaded it with hummus. “When’s her next scene? I don’t have anything with her until next week. Unless Anna switches the schedule around again.” He crunched his stolen food.

  “Let’s see.” Rafael let go of Nat’s hand and tapped at his phone, which rested on the table in front of him. “Looks like she and Carter have a scene in about an hour, then she has one with Levi after that. I’ll make sure she’s all right.”

  “Text me and let me know?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Rafael’s phone went mew. A message popped up. Nat recognized a tiny photo of Carter Samuels, and his heart sank. “Uh-oh. You’re being paged.”

  “Yeah, looks that way.” Rafael’s plump lips curved into a wry half smile. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, that’s the nature of the beast, right? It’s fine.”

  Which was true, kind of. Nat liked Carter, and as his part-time PA, Rafael was duty bound to answer when he called. But Nat felt so empty lately whenever he and Rafael were apart. He wasn’t sure how to interpret the ache Rafael’s absence left inside him, or w
hat to do about it.

  Rafael stood, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket. “Okay. I need to bring Carter a box lunch. I doubt I can be back before you have to be in makeup, so I guess I’ll see you tonight?”

  They’d made plans to go hear some band at Stomping Grounds. Nat had never heard of them, but Rafael swore they were awesome. In any case, the reminder that he was seeing Rafael tonight had warmth curling in Nat’s belly. “Can’t wait.” He tilted his head up, meeting Rafael as he leaned down for a quick kiss. “See you at eight.”

  “Until then, Wolfman.” Rafael flashed a dazzling smile as he headed for the table stacked with boxed lunches.

  Nat sat there for a couple of minutes, nibbling the remains of his lunch and daydreaming about getting Rafael alone. In fact, he hadn’t thought of much else since that afternoon at Rafael’s place after the arts fair. Sex had kind of fallen off his radar since his dad and all his dad’s issues had landed on his plate. But now it was back in a big way. He had fucking on his mind constantly for the first time in years.

  His gut told him that had less to do with being sexually active again than the man he was active with.

  He’d finished his lunch and was halfway to makeup when he remembered his phone buzzing before Solari’s press conference. Shit, shit, shit. Hoping like hell it wasn’t anything important, he whipped his phone out of his pocket, brought up the display, and peered at the text icon in the corner.

  It was from his dad. Of course. Because only his father, Rafael, Suz, and Anna ever texted him, and neither of the women would have let him ignore them for this long.

  He shut his eyes. Whatever it is, you can handle it. No problem. Everything’s gonna be fine.

  His runaway pulse didn’t believe it, but his churning stomach settled a little, which was frankly more than he’d hoped for. Ready as he was likely to get, he opened his eyes and tapped on the text icon.

  We’re out of that cereal I like. Don’t remember the name but you know the one. Would you mind getting some on the way home? Thanks.

  A rush of relief had Nat’s vision sparkling at the edges. He laughed out loud, earning himself a few cautious looks from cast and crew hurrying by. Served him right. Here he was picturing some dire emergency, and his dad only wanted some more store-brand Honey Nut Cheerios. Next time, he’d wait and see what was what before he started mentally filling in the blanks.

  No problem, he typed back. Going out tonight but coming home first to shower & change so will bring the cereal then. Hell, he’d surprise his dad and bring him the name brand this time. He could afford it now. No reason not to use his money for decent groceries, at least. Sorry it took me a while to answer. Was in the middle of something. You doing okay?

  His dad answered almost immediately, which made him feel even worse for having forgotten about the first text. Doing good. No problem about the wait, I know you’re busy at work. Love you, son.

  Nat’s throat closed up and his eyes filled with tears. His dad really had seemed better lately. More lucid, his pain better controlled on the new meds. It had been so long since Nat had any real hope for his father, he still couldn’t believe things might be turning around.

  He blinked the tears away before they could fall, keeping his head down as he tapped at his phone so no one could see the runaway emotions he couldn’t quite hide. Love you too, Dad. See you later.

  The band—Rocky Mountain Sly—turned out to be way better than Nat had expected. Looked like he might have to revise his opinion on banjos and violins played by guys with skinny jeans, tattoos, and brown leather dress shoes minus socks.

  Of course, the awesome espresso and brownies at Stomping Grounds didn’t hurt.

  Rafael laughed when Nat woo-hoo’ed and clapped along with the rest of the crowd at the end of the set. “So you liked it?”

  “Yeah.” Grinning, Nat squeezed the inside of Rafael’s thigh. “Treasure that confession, Hollywood, ’cause you won’t hear it again. Hipster bluegrass is so not my thing.”

  “You say that, but I see that gleam in your eyes.” The hand not clutching Rafael’s oversized coffee mug covered Nat’s where it lay on his leg, weaving their fingers together and sending a burst of happy warmth through Nat’s blood. “You’re hooked, Wolfy. Don’t even try to deny it.”

  “Nah. I’m more of a Black Keys kind of guy.” Nat bent to nuzzle Rafael’s cheek. His stubble, soft as a teenager’s, tickled Nat’s nose. “I’m howling for you, Hollywood.”

  This time, Rafael’s laugh emerged low and throaty. He turned his head, catching Nat by surprise with a swift, close-lipped kiss. “That’s my favorite Black Keys song. How’d you know?”

  A strange tightness caught at Nat’s chest. Like he couldn’t breathe, but it was okay because his life—or at least this part of it—had finally fallen into the right configuration. He smiled. “Lucky guess.”

  Rafael smiled back, dark eyes shining, and Nat’s world tilted. He could drown in those eyes and die happy. It ought to scare him, but it didn’t. Or at least, not as much as it should.

  Oh well. He’d never been one to run from trouble. Why start now?

  Nat was still riding the high Rafael’s company gave him when he got home an hour or so later. The TV was playing some cop drama, his father’s tousled hair barely peeking above the sofa.

  “Hey, Dad. I didn’t think you’d still be up.” He dropped his keys on the table by the kitchen door and looked around, frowning. “Where’s Jessica?” The sitter had been hired to stay until midnight. It was only eleven. She should still be here.

  “I sent her on home an hour ago.”

  Shit. Not again. Nat bit back his irritation. “Dad, this is the second time you’ve done that. They’re not gonna let us hire their people if you keep sending them home early.”

  “I’m a grown man. I don’t need to pay good money for some goddamn babysitter to hover over me like I’m a goddamn toddler.”

  The wounded pride in his father’s voice kept the It’s my money, not yours in Nat’s head where it couldn’t hurt anyone. He rubbed the tension gathering at the back of his neck. “You okay?”

  His dad gave him a wan smile as he perched on the beat-up old armchair. “Not bad. Couldn’t get to sleep, is all.”

  “Oh.” Nat studied the shadows under his father’s eyes. A familiar worry kicked to life inside him. “You need a sleeping pill?”

  Dad wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like them. They make me do weird things.”

  That was true. Last time, Nat had found him sitting at the kitchen table, eating butter in his sleep. “Yeah, but—”

  “I’d rather not take them. Thanks anyway.” His father aimed an unusually sharp stare at Nat. “You look really happy.”

  Nat beamed. He couldn’t help it. “I am.”

  A complex blend of pride, sadness, and love flowed over his dad’s face. “Good. You deserve that. More than probably anybody.”

  Touched, Nat leaned forward and brushed his fingers over his father’s hand where it rested on the arm of the couch. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot to me.”

  The teasing smile Nat remembered from before the logging accident spread over his father’s face. “So what’s up? You finally find the right woman?”

  Nat laughed. “The right man, actually.”

  His dad’s face went slack and gray. “What?”

  Shit. Nat kept his expression calm, though his heart hammered painfully fast and his stomach turned backflips. “C’mon, Dad. We’ve had this conversation before. I’m bisexual, remember? I swing both ways. You know that.”

  His father’s jaw tightened. “It was all right when you were younger, if you needed to . . .” He lifted his hand in a helpless gesture. “Experiment. You know. But you’re a grown man now, Nat. You gotta forget about all this gay nonsense and settle down.”

  It was like with Lem all over again. Two long years, and not a damn thing had changed.

  The hard glitter in his dad’s eyes felt like a knife in the heart, even more tha
n his hurtful words. Nat stared at the stained carpet under his feet. “Funny that this is what gets you out of your apathy for five fucking minutes. Not your addiction or the fact that we never had enough money until now, or the million other real issues we have. No, you gotta finally rouse yourself up over me finally being happy with someone.”

  His dad sighed, sounding almost like he had when Nat and his sister used to get in trouble as kids. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want you to be happy, of course I do. I just don’t understand why you can’t find a good woman. I mean, if you’re . . .” A heartbeat of uncomfortable silence followed. Nat ground his teeth and fumed until his father started talking again. “Well, if you’re not particular who you’re with, why can’t you find a woman?”

  Because Rafael isn’t a woman, and he’s the one I want.

  Nat stood, trembling. “If you still don’t get why people aren’t interchangeable, then I can’t explain it to you.” He strode to the table and snatched up his keys. “I’m going out.”

  “But you barely got back.” The sofa squeaked in the particular way it did when someone rose from it. “Nat, please. I wish you’d be reasonable about this. If you’d—”

  “Shut up.” Nat’s voice sounded strangled in his own ears. He couldn’t look at his father. “I’ll be home later. But I can’t be around you right now.” Ignoring his father’s pleas for him to stay and talk, he walked out the door and slammed it behind him.

  For a couple of minutes, he stood in the yard, letting the cool night air soothe the heat in his cheeks. This whole thing was his own fault. He knew better than to believe for one second his father would ever try to understand him. Sure, his dad loved him. But he loved his son Nat, not Nathaniel Horn the human being.

  Nat only saw now, tonight, how much he’d longed for his father’s acceptance as well as the automatic brand of love a father gave his son. But he’d never have it. And that hurt bone-deep.