by Jet Mykles
After a quick, questioning glance toward Danny—who stood just inside the doorway—Cash focused on Noble. “What is it?”
Noble pulled another wheeled chair up beside Cash’s and sat. “I want to set up a news feed.” He dug into his pocket. “On my phone.”
“Oh.” He could feel just a little bit of tension ease out of Cash. Give him a computery task, and he was instantly all business.
“I could figure it out, but you probably know some tricks. I just want one topic. We can do that, yeah?”
“Sure. Just a matter of putting in the right keywords.” After Noble had cleared the screen with his password, Cash plucked the phone from his hand. “What app do you want to use?”
With a fond smile, Danny wandered away. Cash asked questions; Noble answered, then asked a few of his own. Cash pulled out his tablet to show Noble some options, and they got a little sidetracked when Noble saw a restaurant tracker that Cash showed him. Finally they decided on the right app, and Noble let Cash do most of the setting up while he wandered the room looking at action figures and painted keepsakes.
“Okay.” By the tone, Cash sounded like he was ready for new input. “So what do you want to follow?”
“Not what. Who. I want to know what Foxy is up to.”
“Oh.”
Noble turned to find Cash watching him openly. Frankly. For the first time, his eyes weren’t on a screen. “What?”
Cash’s lips parted as he blinked. “Danny told me what happened with you and…him. I’m sorry.”
Noble grinned. How sweet. They might not know each other well, but Noble was fully in love with Cash. For Danny, of course. “It’s not your fault.”
A little bit of a blush. “I know, but…”
“No, I’m being a dick.” Noble resumed his seat beside Cash with a small stuffed…something in his hands. He’d taken it from one of the bookshelves. It was about the size of a softball and clearly a character from Japanese anime, but Noble was at a loss to name the plump yellow thing. “Thanks.”
Cash ducked over Noble’s phone, typing. “Sucks that it couldn’t work out.”
“Yeah.” Noble tossed the ball-shaped toy in the air to catch it. “But maybe not. I’m not a one-man kind of guy.” Or so he’d come to think.
“Yeah.” Cash frowned, thumbs pausing. “He’s got other names, doesn’t he?”
They spent a few moments discussing Foxy’s various aliases. Then Cash presented the phone back to him. “There. That should work.”
Noble scrolled through a list of headlines, all of which seemed to mention the man in question. Most of them were about the Criminea series. He laughed as he stopped on one that wasn’t an article. “Oh, I’ll have to read this later.”
“What?”
“There’s fan fiction for Criminea.” He clicked the link, then snorted. “Looks like it’s heterosexual.”
Cash grinned. “That’s weird for fan fiction. It’s usually all gay.”
“Yeah. It is.” Amused, Noble closed the app, then put his phone to sleep. “Thanks. For this.”
“Sure thing.” Cash’s eyes were back on his monitor, his finger trailing over his trackpad as he moved stuff across the screen. For another person, the inattention might have seemed rude, but Noble could tell that Cash wasn’t inattentive. He was just able to pay attention to multiple things at once.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Cash startled, then faced him. “Sure.”
“Are you okay with being gay now?”
Cash blinked. “Uh…?”
“Tell me to go to hell if that’s too personal. I won’t mind.”
“No. No. It’s okay.” Cash scratched the back of his neck. “I’m okay.” He met Noble’s gaze. “I love Danny.”
“Oh, I know.” Noble squeezed his knee for emphasis. “That wasn’t my question.” He put the stuffed toy on the desk. “See, I came out when I was a teenager. I’ve never been an adult who suddenly changed his whole sexuality. I was just wondering what it’s like to think you swing one way, only to find out you swing the other way.”
“Oh.” Confusion cleared as Cash sat back in his chair to think. “Yeah. It was an…adjustment.” He smiled a little as he thought about it. “I didn’t really want to be part of the whole gay”—he waved his hands in the air—“thing. Y’know?”
Noble nodded. He’d been out and proud for much of his young life, but he wasn’t running out to join every gay rally and parade either.
“But…” Cash was thinking hard. So cute. “I never dated much anyway. Or ever. I only thought of myself as straight because that’s just how I grew up. It wasn’t because I was really attracted to women.” From the gravity in Cash’s voice, Noble got the impression that Cash had spent a lot of time thinking about this himself. “When I fell in love with Danny, it was more a mental shock than an emotional one. I didn’t really have much of a life adjustment to make. It wasn’t like I was bisexual; I just hadn’t realized I was gay yet. That make sense?”
“It does. Lots of sense.” Noble sighed, snatching up the yellow thing again because he needed something to play with. “I don’t think that’s Foxy’s problem. He’s attracted to women.”
“You sure?”
“He’s dated enough of them.”
Cash shrugged. “So did Rabin. Heck, so did Luc Sloane.”
“True.” Too bad Luc wasn’t in town. Noble was in enough of a mood to track him down and ask the same questions. Luc had made a life change similar to what Foxy would be facing. Except that Luc had been a member of a band where their sexual leanings had already been in question.
“You think he doesn’t love you?”
Noble had to shake himself, his first thought that Cash was asking if Luc Sloane was in love with him. Amusing, but clearly wrong. “Who? Foxy?”
“Yeah.”
“He said he does.”
“You believe him?”
“I don’t know what to believe.”
“But he said it.” Such an innocent, open gaze as Cash spoke directly to Noble’s heart. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. But he’s still in the closet. There’s no way we could make it work and keep it secret.”
“Yeah. That’d be hard. Maybe he’ll come around.”
“Maybe. But I’m not going to hold my breath.”
Chapter Eleven
Donny Foxley and Maritza Wesker are definitely an item. The couple were seen kissing at Pritzi’s downtown Thursday. Neither will comment, but Mari’s big smile as she hung on Foxy’s arm spoke volumes…
Grimacing, Noble thumbed to the next story. This week, they were all pretty similar. The rags were all full of near confirmation that the two stars of Criminea were an item.
Now that the tour had started, Noble’s schedule was blissfully full, leaving him little time to himself. Which was just the way he wanted it. He volunteered for every interview, photo op, press appearance, or marketing function Gordon could throw at him. He even did a guest blog shot for a drumming magazine. As long as he went to events and viewed them as business affairs, he could be social. He could talk up the Indigo Knights for hours without a sweat. The veneer of business let him keep invitations for sex at bay. He would flirt, certainly; that was part of his persona. But it didn’t have to go anywhere, and he had a built-in excuse to turn anyone down. It was perfect.
However, despite a full schedule, he still managed to keep up on news of Foxy. Having Cash set up the news feed might not have been his best idea. The rumors about Foxy and his costar had started over the weekend, and new sightings had started during the week. Maritza was pretty. Of course she was pretty. She’d been cast as the lead actress in a series that the producers hoped would become as big as Lord of the Rings. She was short, barely to Foxy’s shoulder, with an abundance of curly brown hair that framed an adorable round face. She looked like a porcelain doll, but that image was wrecked after seeing her in the first movie, because she fought and tumbled admir
ably along with her costars. She had a gorgeous smile and seemed to laugh a lot. If Foxy were just about anyone else, Noble would be happy for him.
But he wasn’t. “Gotta be a publicity stunt,” Noble muttered to himself as he rode alone in the back of a limo.
Noble’s transportation options now involved limousines complete with bodyguards, instead of cabs or trains. At the moment, the Indigo Knights were getting nearly as much press as Heaven Sent. The album was selling, girls were screaming, and Gordon didn’t have enough hours in the day to keep up with everything. News from Europe had reached the States, and the West Coast press had begun to notice them. Gordon and Gretchen and their currently combined team were working furiously to arrange event after event to showcase the bands. The original tour dates had all sold out, and new dates were being added.
Noble should be over the top. He should have bedded the handsome executive who’d wanted to take him home from the press event. Instead he was all alone, grumbling over rumors about a guy he shouldn’t even be thinking about.
He made it to the hotel without overreacting, but the idea nagged at him as he pulled off his clothes. What the hell did Foxy think he was doing? It was one thing to not tell anyone he was gay, but if he was really dating this girl, that just wasn’t fair. To her or to him.
Noble sat naked in bed, about to turn off the light, when he finally gave in to compulsion and dialed the phone. Would Foxy even answer? Neither of them had tried to call or text since…
On the third ring, he did. “Noble?” Foxy’s voice was hushed, and pop music was evident in the background. Was he out with her now? It was barely ten o’clock in Los Angeles.
“Is it serious, or is it a publicity stunt?”
“What?”
“This thing with your costar. Is it real?”
There was some shuffling and a muttered “excuse me.” Then the background music was cut off. Foxy must have moved to a quieter room. “How is my thing with Mari even your business?” That low voice held an edge of anger in it.
But Noble was mad right back at him. “It’s not. But it’s real shitty of you to lead her on when you’re into dick.”
“Who says I’m even into dick anymore?”
Noble barked out a laugh. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”
“It’s true. Seems there’s only one dick I want, and you made it unavailable.” The edge dissolved into full-blown anger.
Noble’s treacherous heart wanted to find that warming, when his brain knew the notion was absurd. The warring directions in thought kept him from a quick answer.
“What’s the matter, Noble? You’re not jealous. Are you?”
The nasty tone snapped Noble out of it. “Not remotely. But as your friend, I felt the need to call you on your hypocrisy.”
“I’m the hypocrite? You’re the one who says we can’t be anything, then sticks his nose into my love life.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
Blanket bunched up in his fist, Noble glared at the television screen mounted on the wall beyond the foot of his bed. “Are you really going to lead that poor girl on?”
“You don’t know shit about that poor girl. Would it make you feel any better to know that she knows about you?”
Again Noble was speechless.
“Yeah. That surprised you, didn’t it? I told her all about you. About us.”
“And she’s still with you?”
“She chose to stick by me.”
“She gets to be with you in public. She gets to kiss you in front of the paparazzi. I was never going to get that, was I?” The words tumbled out without much thought. Noble heard the anguish in them but couldn’t tamp it down. “She can be with you without fucking up your career. So I don’t think she’s got much to lose, does she? Asshole.”
Now Foxy was silent.
“Fuck you.” Noble drew himself up, managing to maintain an even voice despite the tears that dribbled down his cheeks. “I called to tell you what you’re doing is fucked up. That’s it.” He paused, unsure what to say. Then he figured it out. “Bye.”
He shut off the call before Foxy could respond. He waited, staring at the screen for a few minutes, wondering if Foxy would call back. It didn’t happen. Noble got up and went to the bathroom for a tissue since there weren’t any on the nightstand. When he returned to his lonely bed, there was still no response. Which, in itself, was a response.
“Okay,” he told the empty air as he put his phone on the nightstand and turned out the light. He snuggled into his pillows and stared into the darkness, wondering if he’d be able to sleep. “Okay.”
Chapter Twelve
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Lance declared. He was sitting on the couch across from Noble, their empty breakfast plates strewn all over the coffee table between them. A news station droned on to Noble’s right, but neither of them were paying much attention.
Noble swiped the last strip of bacon, then sat back to chew it. “What?”
Lance tipped his head to study Noble. His long blond hair had dried around his head but not in the frizzy way it usually did. If Noble didn’t know any better, he might think Lance had actually used product. But then again, he was living with Gordon now, so he might really have done it. “When’s the last time you went clubbing?” Lance asked.
“I’ve been to clubs.”
“I mean clubbing. Dancing, flirting, fucking. You know, your thing.”
Figured that Lance knew. Noble had spent long enough tracking Lance’s movements; it wasn’t surprising that his best friend had turned the tables when he knew Noble was going through a rough time. Noble wrinkled his nose as he chewed the bacon. “I’m busy.”
“You feeling withdrawal?”
“Not really.” He sighed. It was true. He still maintained his all-business schedule. Okay, some might call his work one big party, but those who did probably didn’t know all the shit Gordon had him—had all the band—doing for promotion. It was more than they’d done during the club tour. Add to the fact that now they had massive security around them all the time, there was barely any time to sleep, much less party. But he could have managed it, if he’d been so inclined. “I’m exhausted.” Noble reached up to tug at his hair. The only reason it was still a rich, dark blue and tidily trimmed was because he now had a hairdresser who visited his place regularly and made sure to keep it so.
“I hear that.” Lance tipped his head back and closed his eyes, folding his hands over his bare belly.
Noble stared at the smartly dressed news anchorman without hearing a word he said. “I never thought I’d see the day that I’d get your point.”
“What point?”
Noble drew a leg up to hug it. “About being with one guy.”
Lance sat up and leaned on his knees. “Still no luck getting over the Foxy?”
Noble smiled. Bad enough that the man was called Foxy, but his bandmates had taken to referring to him as the Foxy. “Nope.” He straightened the other leg down the length of the couch. “But that’s gotta be ’cause I’ve been too busy to work him out of my system.”
A lie, pure and simple. They both knew it. Noble’d had plenty of chances and plenty of time. He’d partied more than his share during the first month of the tour, and he’d entertained a select handful of young men in an attempt to exorcise Foxy from his system. But he hadn’t taken any to his bed. He’d managed to flirt his way around and hook others up so they wouldn’t be disappointed when he went to bed later that night alone. He’d had the chances but finally decided to just wait out this obsession with Foxy.
“It’ll take time,” Lance said softly.
“Mmm, yeah. Like, three years?” He met Lance’s gaze for that. For three years Lance had pined over losing Gordon, going celibate for most of that time. “Or more?” Because, in the end, the only person who’d put a stop to Lance’s celibacy had been Gordon himself.
“It’s that bad?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Gordon chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his slim waist and a cloud of steam following him. Utterly scrumptious and toned from the exercise that he actually enjoyed and the natural beauty a benevolent God had given him. “Did you leave me anything to eat?” he asked, glancing at the empty plates and glasses.
Lance pointed toward the covered tray on the table behind his couch. “That one’s yours.”
“Hmm.” Gordon picked up the phone Lance had placed beside his tray and glanced at it as he rounded the end of the couch. “Noble, what are you doing here so early?” he asked without looking up.
Noble didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was ogling Lance’s boyfriend. There was no point, and they would have thought something was wrong with him if he didn’t look. “Thought I’d see what breakfast is like. So far, the scenery’s pretty good.”
Gordon snorted amusement, breaking his gaze from the phone only long enough to bend over his lover to give Lance a soft kiss on the lips. “Your interview’s been postponed to one,” he proclaimed, turning toward the bedroom. “That’ll make you cut it close for sound check but should be okay. I’ll have the car collect you at half past twelve.” He paused at the door to look at them. “Okay?”
They both nodded, allowing him to head into the room.
Noble smiled. “That’d drive me crazy. How can he be all business when he’s naked like that?”
Lance obviously knew what Noble meant. He’d looked his full share as well, even though he got to sleep with that body every night. “It’s not so bad. He tones it down when we’re alone.” Lance thought about it. “Sometimes.”
They laughed.
“I’m jealous. You’ve got what I never wanted, and now I want it.” Noble heard the wistfulness in his voice and accepted it.
Lance showed appropriate surprise. “Seriously?”
Noble had never in his life wanted to share the everyday humdrum with just one person. Until now. Foxy had changed him so damn quickly. “I know. Weird, huh?”
“Well, fucking stop it. You’re freaking me out.”
