Indigo Knights: The Boxed Set

by Jet Mykles

  Noble had to laugh. “Yeah, I’m working on it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Reine left a message for Noble while he was in an interview with Rabin a few weeks later. Noble listened to it in the lobby of the radio station as they waited for the car. “Man! You’re in town this weekend, right? Any chance I could get a ticket to one of the shows? I’ll trade an invite to a premiere party. It’s the new Neil Reitg film, so there’ll be a ton of people there. Party’s on Friday if you want to go. Call me back, and let me know.”

  Noble thought about it as they were ushered to the car.

  “You’re quiet,” Rabin commented a few minutes into the drive.

  “Yeah.” Noble bounced his phone on his thigh. “I got invited to a Hollywood party this weekend.”

  His friend studied him. The fact that they were going to be in Los Angeles in a few days had been the elephant in the room for the past week. Everyone knew Noble was getting closer to the Foxy, but no one teased him about it. Which was weird because he would have been all over any of them in a similar situation. But since he chose not to talk about it, the upcoming potential—or lack thereof—of seeing Foxy had been left unsaid.

  Rabin simply asked, “You going?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  * * * *

  By the time they reached LA, he’d made up his mind. He called Reine and made arrangements for him and a friend to come to the concert on Friday, after which they’d all go to this party. He didn’t ask if Foxy would be there with his girlfriend, and Reine didn’t volunteer the information. Foxy wasn’t connected to this new movie, as far as Noble could tell, but then again, neither was Reine. When asked how he got invited, Reine just laughed and said he had a friend. That was Hollywood. Everyone had friends.

  The reception for Heaven Sent and the Indigo Knights in Los Angeles rivaled that from anywhere else. They were beset with interviews and meet and greets from the moment they arrived on Wednesday, and it didn’t stop for the next two days. Noble met people and made promises to get in touch that he wasn’t sure he’d keep. The greenroom before the Thursday-night show was filled to bursting with stars and starlets. Noble kept an eye out for Foxy, but if he showed, Noble didn’t see him.

  Friday night, Reine and his friend—male—hung out backstage before the concert. Only then did it dawn on Noble that Reine might have thought tonight was a date. So he was relieved that Reine’s buddy seemed to be the fuckable kind. Noble only got a chance to chat with them for a little while before he was drawn away, but they seemed fine. Again he kept an eye out for Foxy, but again the object of his obsession was a no-show.

  Noble took out his frustration in his music, thankful that his instrument served not only his musical side but his emotional one as well. Pounding on the skins, letting the rhythms surge through his body, was the best way to work the nerves out of his system. After their set, while Heaven Sent was on stage, Noble got a chance to talk to Reine a little more. It turned out his buddy Taylor was going to be in the upcoming second Crimenea movie too. Which allowed Noble to steer the conversation to his favorite dreaded topic.

  “So when’s the last time you talked to Foxy?”

  “Not for a week or so,” Reine answered without suspicion. “He’s been kind of quiet these days.”

  “Really? I thought he was out and about with Maritza?”

  Reine looked at him funny for a second before breaking out into a broad smile. “Oh, that? Nah. They’re just friends.”

  “I thought they were a couple?”

  “Yeah, lots of people think that.” Reine shook his head with confidence. “She’s more like his little sister than anything.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.” He exchanged glances with a grinning Taylor, then leaned toward Noble in a conspiratorial way. “Between you, me, and the fence post, I think Foxy’s gay.”

  Noble feigned surprise while wondering if Reine was playing him for inside knowledge. Did he know? Could he know? “Why’d you say that?”

  Taylor joined the conversation. “Oh, little things. He’s never really been into any of the women who fall all over him, and I never once heard any of them really say that they fucked him.”

  Reine nodded. “And other than with Mari, he doesn’t hardly go out at all anymore.”

  Noble refused to feel hopeful. Because even if Foxy wasn’t dating that girl, that didn’t bring him any closer to Noble’s life. “Yeah, well, he’s way in the closet, if he is.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Oh? Spill.”

  Reine laughed. “Did you get to meet his handler? Zach?”

  “Yeah.”

  Taylor preened. “I got to prove to him that he wasn’t as straight as he thought he was.”

  Noble joined in the laughter for that one, acting like he didn’t know about Zach. He high-fived Taylor, giving him a prissy “You go, girlfriend” to go with it. “But that doesn’t say anything about Foxy.”

  “Oh, yes, it does,” Reine declared. “They’ve had lots of alone time since then.”

  Noble squelched a surge of jealousy. “Oh?”

  “Plus, Zach’s been laying heavy hints that Foxy bats for our team.”

  “He has?”

  Taylor scrunched his nose. “Don’t know that I really believe it, though. I’ve certainly tried him a few times.”

  Reine nodded. “Me too. I think he was almost interested once, but he shied away.”

  Noble nearly had to bite his tongue. “It’s not like he could be out anyway, could he? Doesn’t he have some contract thing?”

  Reine blinked. “Oh, shit, that’s right. I forgot about that.”

  Taylor looked confused. “What?”

  “He’s got one of those morality clauses in his contract. All the principals do. He can’t make any big life changes for, like, a year around any of the releases. Can’t get married, get caught on drugs, say he’s gay, or have a sex change, or shit like that.”

  “Is that even legal?”

  Reine shrugged. “It’s legal enough. Probably be nasty to try and fight it.” He sighed. “So I guess the most we could hope for is a quickie in a back alley.”

  “Nothing I haven’t done before!” Taylor cried, hand up for another high five.

  Noble laughed with them but broke a little inside. “How long do you suppose that clause is for?” he asked casually.

  “Beats me. Probably until after the release of the three movies? Can’t be much longer than that. Although there has been talk of a fourth.”

  That would make sense. But since the second movie was due to release in a few months, and the third hadn’t yet begun production, there was still a while to go yet. If Reine was right about a fourth movie, who knew how long it’d be.

  Taylor shivered. “I feel for him if he is gay. I mean, maybe years ago you should hide it, but these days? Come on, who even cares anymore?”

  Reine laughed. “You are so Hollywood, man. You forget that a lot of the country—a lot of the world—are still in the Dark Ages about us.”

  “Well”—Taylor sniffed—“fuck ’em.”

  Talk turned to other subjects, and Noble switched on his social persona to force himself to stick with it. But his heart wasn’t in it. Part of him was thinking that the morality clause only limited Foxy for a few years; maybe they could pick things up after it had run its course. But a larger part of him realized that by then, it’d be too late. It was already too late.

  * * * *

  The party was all it was promised to be. Held at a private estate in the Hollywood Hills, it was ostentatious, overbearing, and superficial. Drunk people flirted with others stoned out of their minds. Producers conducted conversations with nubile young eye candy seated on their laps. Noble brought Danny with him, and Luc Sloane joined them as well. The latter was a last-minute inclusion that sent Reine and Taylor out of their minds into giddy fawning. Luc handled them with grace while Danny clearly took mental notes. Noble was glad of the additi
onal distraction, which allowed him not to be as social as he might.

  After the show, he’d dressed his part. Tight black pants were slung low on his hips with a bunch of bandanas tied as belts. His T-shirt was light silk and almost see-through, giving the barest hint of the horny toad tattooed on his chest. His arms were bare except for blue leather cuffs around his wrists. His hair was at its brightest blue, and he’d finger combed in enough product to make it shiny and slightly spiky. He’d chosen bright gold contacts tonight and lined his eyes in deep black. The crowd was perfect, just the right mix of posers and attention hogs. He made new friends immediately and even met up with a few people he remembered from previous trips to the West Coast.

  He was standing under a palm tree by one of the food stations, teasing two gorgeous women while they made a mess of the marshmallows they dipped in the chocolate fountain, when he looked up and saw Foxy. Dark shoulder-length hair tumbled around the collar of his loose cobalt dress shirt. He was too far away for Noble to make out details of his face, but he was smiling as he said hello to someone. He also had his hand on the bare back of his so-called girlfriend. Her sequined cocktail dress barely covered more than a one-piece bathing suit, the entire back bare from her neck to just above the cleft of her ass. Three-inch sparkly heels and a tall hairdo brought her to nearly Foxy’s height. They looked good together. It was hard to believe they weren’t a couple. Then again, maybe Reine had been wrong.

  Uncharacteristic for him, Noble shied away, moving inside to avoid confrontation. He gave serious thought to leaving. Then a casting director he’d met caught his elbow and started talking to him again about a bit part in a movie. She thought he’d be perfect, and it would just be a day of work. No acting involved, really. He needed to play himself as a rock-star drummer. How easy would that be? She drew a few others into the conversation as the topic changed from the movie to his experience during the recent tour. He found himself talking to a script-writing duo who were fascinated by the day-to-day of the rock-star experience. They’d just begun to speculate on how different things might have been for the Beatles or the Rolling Stones when Noble felt a presence just behind and to the right of him.

  It was Foxy. Of course it was. He came up to stand right next to Noble, his arm almost touching but not quite. At first he didn’t look at Noble. Rather, he looked like he was paying attention to what was being said, a small, interested smile on his face. He had a drink in his hand, which he swirled a little to make the ice clink. After a moment, he turned his head to meet Noble’s gaze. Noble was struck again by just how beautiful he was. “Hey.”

  The writers were completely into their speculations and might not have even noticed Foxy’s approach.

  “Hey.” Beyond that, Noble was tongue-tied. Something only Foxy could do to him.

  “I heard you were in town.”

  Noble nodded. He was struggling to leech the adoration from his gaze, not sure he was succeeding.

  “How’d the concert go tonight?”

  “Good. Great.”

  “I was going to try and make it to one, but…” Foxy looked into his glass. “You know.”

  “Right.”

  He scanned the crowd. “So, Luc Sloane’s here. That because of you?”

  “Sort of.”

  Foxy nodded. “He’s a nice guy. I just talked to him.”

  “He is.”

  The writers had wound down their own discussion and were paying attention to Noble again. One of them greeted Foxy. The four of them chatted a bit. Then they were joined by Maritza.

  Foxy made introductions. “Mari, this is Noble.”

  She smiled big for him, holding out her hand. “I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she said, ignoring the writers, who took their cue and wandered off. Her grip was unexpectedly strong in a real handshake, not the kind of limp touches that women often gave.

  Noble put on a smile, brain racing as he tried to pick up on subtle lover clues between her and Foxy. They had brushed arms, but it didn’t seem intentional. “Nice to meet you too.” If there was anything there, he had to be missing it.

  “Donny is, like, obsessed with your music. I know your album backwards and forwards now, and it’s all because of him.”

  “I hope you like it.”

  “Oh, I do. It’s awesome. And I love Heaven Sent, so it’s all good.”

  “Have you seen them onstage?”

  “Who?”

  “Heaven Sent.”

  “Not yet.” She blinked big, hopeful eyes at him.

  He heard the hint and grinned. “I can get you in tomorrow, if you’re interested.” He braved a look into Foxy’s eyes. “Both of you.”

  Foxy was staring at him, and he had been staring while Maritza was speaking. Not a blank look but a careful one.

  Maritza, predictably, was enthused. “Really?” She held her hands in prayer fashion under her chin. “For real?”

  Noble chuckled. “Sure.”

  “Oh, man, this is awesome. I just met fucking Luc Sloane, and you’re saying I could meet Johnnie freaking Heaven?” She pulled him into an impetuous hug. She smelled heavily of jasmine and bubbled like champagne. Despite his misgivings, Noble thought he liked her. “Oh, thank you!” Letting him go, she grinned up at Foxy. “You’ll go, right?”

  He shrugged, tearing his gaze from Noble. “Sure.”

  “What? What’s ‘sure’? I’m surprised you didn’t already have tickets.” Back to Noble. “I swear, he’s all about you and Heaven Sent.”

  Noble didn’t know why, but he felt the need to provide Foxy an out. “You guys have been busy.”

  “Oh, don’t I freaking know it.” So, clearly the girl had had a little to drink. She wasn’t exactly swaying on her feet, but her eyes were brighter than they might otherwise have been. “I’m so glad that Dauntless is in edits.” She leaned heavily into Foxy. “Just one more to go, right, Donny?”

  His eyes were back on Noble over her head. “Right.”

  “Noble.” Danny arrived to grab Noble’s arm. He grinned big as he tugged a little. “I’ve got someone you have to meet.” He smiled at the couple. “Hi.”

  “Danny, you remember Fo—uh, Donny?”

  Danny held out his hand, ignoring Noble’s verbal stumble. “Sure. How’s it hanging, man?”

  “Good.”

  “And this is Maritza.”

  Danny was openly gay and in a committed relationship, but he’d learned to flirt professionally. He was a natural. Taking Maritza’s hand in greeting, he turned up the grin and put that twinkle in his eye. “Hello, Maritza.”

  “Hello.” She may be a gorgeous starlet with a fan base of her own, but she wasn’t immune to his charm. She sighed happily and practically shimmied when he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I just love your music.”

  “Thank you. I’ve enjoyed your movie. When does the next one come out?”

  Noble glanced over to find Foxy watching him again.

  Maritza’s attention stayed focused on Danny. “December.”

  Noble glanced at Maritza, then back at Foxy with a raised eyebrow.

  “Excellent.”

  Foxy’s lips thinned a little, gaze dropping to his drink as he raised it for a sip.

  “Maritza and Donny are going to be my guests tomorrow,” Noble told Danny.

  Danny glanced a question at him but didn’t pause long enough for an answer. “Terrific,” he enthused at them. “I’ll see you then. Meantime”—he grabbed Noble’s arm again—“I need to take this guy and introduce him to someone he’s been dying to meet.”

  Noble caught Foxy’s eye as Danny pulled him away. He didn’t know what he saw there, but Foxy was thinking deeply about something. Then Noble ripped his gaze away. “Was that a rescue, or do you really want me to meet someone?”

  “Little of both. Mostly rescue. But you do want to meet this guy. Remember that movie we saw on the plane? Riot Act?”

  Noble let Danny distract him with a new friend who was, admittedly, fascinating. He t
ried hard not to think about Foxy, but it was like there was a beacon inside him that knew exactly where Foxy was at all times. He watched the man follow Maritza around from person to person, seemingly attentive, but more than once, their eyes met across the room. “Jesus.”

  “What?” Danny still stood with him, but they were alone for the moment, standing on a balcony overlooking a swimming pool shaped like a dolphin.

  “I feel like I’m in a fucking chick flick.”

  Danny chuckled. “Where is he?”

  “Over in the gazebo.”

  “Oh yes. Well, at least he’s nice to look at.”

  Noble snorted.

  “You gonna get him alone?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Why not?”

  “How is that even a good idea?”

  “Fuck good idea. You haven’t been with anyone else since him. You don’t think about anyone but him, and he’s obviously had the same problem about you.”

  “Wait. What?”

  Danny gave him a long-suffering look. “For all that you’re watching him, my friend, he’s watching you. He’s watching you right now.”

  Well, fuck if he was. “Shit.” Noble deliberately put his back to the balcony railing. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  “You’re in love.”

  “Fat lot of good that does me.”

  “Maybe you should talk to him.” When Noble shook his head, Danny pressed his point. “No, I mean it. You guys went your separate ways, but it’s obviously not done. Maybe you two need to talk again.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Oprah.”

  “Okay, how about this—I tried to break up with Cash, then spent months mooning over him. We’re together now. Lance spent three fucking years wanting Gordon. They’re together. Hell, Rabin’s even told me he tried to break it off with Izzy toward the beginning, and that didn’t work.”

  “Chicks with dicks. All of y’all.”

  Danny chuckled. “My point is that we all tried to break it off because it felt like it was the right thing—but it wasn’t. Being together was the right thing. We just had to work past the part that felt wrong.”

  Noble studied his friend’s face, reluctant to admit Danny had a point. “He signed a fucking morality clause. He can’t be gay until he’s finished the Criminea movies.”