Something Like Hope

by Kris T. Bethke

  Realization dawned. There was only one person who knew about my slipper collection. But I couldn’t fathom why Lucas would buy me a gift, let alone such an expensive one. I didn’t make any sense.

  Unless my father was right and he had been pulling my pigtails.

  The question was why he’d changed tactics and was now giving me a present. Maybe it was just an apology? Perhaps he felt bad about what he’d done, about that kiss, and was trying to make it up to me. My brain spun, trying to rationalize the slippers I held in my hands.

  “Those are nice.” Court’s voice broke into my musings. “Who gave them to you?”

  “No clue,” I lied, standing up fast. By Court’s expression, I hadn’t been convincing, but thankfully he didn’t push. There was a beep and then the intercom crackled to life, announcing that the lighting problem had been fixed. Court stood and placed a hand on my shoulder as he moved past me.

  “Back to work for me.” He was almost to the door when he paused, then turned slightly to look over his shoulder at me. “Whoever gave those to you must think pretty highly of you.” And then he was gone.

  I knew Court was right. But it still didn’t make sense. There was no help for it now. I was really going to have to find Lucas and ask him what the hell was up.

  * * * *

  I was in the middle of shooting a scene and on a five-minute break while they reset, when I finally saw him. It was early afternoon, and it was just a glimpse as he poked his head into the room to see what was going on. I knew he saw me, because it wasn’t until I lifted my hand in a wave that he ducked back out again. Now he was just being weird. I put it out of my mind until I finished the scene, knowing I had to be in the right mindset to get my character right.

  Three hours later, we were done, and I went in search of the elusive Lucas. He wasn’t on set, or in his dressing room. I was just headed to craft services when I spotted him walking down the hall. I sped up to catch him, but by the time I did, he’d ducked onto the bullpen set and was in conference with one of the producers. I waited, trying to look inconspicuous, but I was drawing stares. Giving it up as a lost cause, I headed back to my dressing room and changed. Then I loitered in the doorway for a while, thinking I’d catch him when he came to change.

  Two more hours dragged by and I felt like a fool. He had to be avoiding me, but I couldn’t figure out why. He must have been trying to tell me something with the gift, but now he didn’t want to talk to me? He was confusing as all hell. And I was the idiot waiting around.

  I packed up my stuff, and the slippers, and headed out. On the way, I veered down the production office hallway and sneaked a look at the call sheet for the next day. Lucas was scheduled to be in makeup at seven-thirty, and I knew it was his habit to get to the set at least an hour early. New plan in place, I headed home.

  * * * *

  I got to the set at three minutes after seven the next morning, and when I saw the Camaro in the parking lot, I moved quickly. I walked straight to Lucas’s dressing room. The door was cracked open, and I could hear the soft strains of some 80’s rock ballad. I didn’t knock, didn’t ask for permission, just walked in the room and shut the door quietly behind me.

  It took him a second to realize I was there. When he did his face lit up with a grin, before a scowl quickly took its place.

  “I wanted to say thank you.” I kept my voice soft and calm. “They’re beautiful, and I really appreciate it.”

  He opened his mouth, and for a second I knew he was going to deny that he knew what I was talking about. I could see it all over his face. But then he deflated and blew out a breath. “You’re welcome.”

  I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. Okay, then. It was up to me. I cleared my throat. “Look, Lucas, I think we need to talk—”

  “Yes,” he cut me off fast, his gaze darting wildly around the room like the thought there might be someone spying. “But not here, okay?”

  I nodded slowly. I didn’t know the source of his nerves, but I didn’t want to spook him. “Okay. Not here. Where?”

  “Um.” He licked his lips, and then his gaze finally settled on a spot somewhere over my left shoulder. His voice dropped even lower, like he didn’t want to be overheard. “Come to my place tonight? I should be done and home by eight.”

  I weighed that for a long moment, really thinking it over. It had to be a good thing that he was inviting me over. He must finally be ready to talk, and I took that as a good sign. As I stood there studying his face, I saw something like hope in his eyes. He was a terribly confusing individual, and I didn’t understand anything about him or his motivation. But there was only one way to find out.

  “Okay, yeah. I’ll come by tonight.” I hadn’t taken my gaze off him, and I did not miss that brief flash of relief that crossed his face.

  “Good. Okay. Good.” He blew out a breath, and he focused on me. His lips quirked into a tiny smile. It wasn’t much, but it was nice to see. “I’ll pick you up on my way through, okay?”

  But I didn’t want to be stuck there if things went south. I wanted to be able to leave if it got ugly. I shook my head, but softened it with a smile. “Just text me the address. I’ll find it.”

  “Um. All right.” Lucas looked disappointed, but he dutifully rattled off his cell number for me to put in my phone. I quickly shot him a text, a smiley face, so he would have my number as well. That concluded, we both stood there, awkwardly staring at each other.

  I broke first, laughing at the situation. Lucas’s smile was sheepish, and he shook his head.

  “I’ve got to go to makeup,” he murmured.

  “Yeah,” I responded. Then looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t have to be here today. I came to track you down.”

  His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath, and his pupils widened. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  My gaze didn’t waver. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  * * * *

  I somehow wasn’t surprised to see the upscale address that Lucas texted, and it was easy enough to navigate downtown and get to Olive Way. The building itself was stunning, all curved lines and glass. I parked in the guest lot and headed for the front door. Because I had done as Lucas asked and sent him a text when I left my place, he was waiting for me in the lobby. His smile was broad but a little guarded as he let me in the front door.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice soft. I didn’t miss the way his gaze traveled all over my face.

  I smiled back. “Hi.”

  We stood there for an awkward moment. Neither one of us knew exactly what to do. But then Lucas shook his head, his smile turning rueful, as he placed a hand on my back and led me through the lobby and to the elevators. The ride up was silent and we got off on the twenty-third floor.

  When Lucas opened the door to his apartment, I nearly caught my breath. We entered into the kitchen, but the entire space was an open floor plan with high-end furnishings. I was drawn to the view out the window. It was gorgeous, the whole of downtown Seattle laid out before me. The sun had long ago set and everything was lit up.

  “Beautiful view,” I murmured as I walked through the kitchen and into the living room. I stopped before the window, taking it all in.

  “I like it.” Lucas’s voice was soft. “I’m glad you came, Aaron. I was a little afraid you wouldn’t.”

  I lifted my gaze to meet his in the reflection of the glass. The worry in his eyes belied his soft smile.

  “If I’m honest,” I said, keeping my voice quiet. “I came just because I wanted to know what the hell is going on. You haven’t been exactly nice to me, and I never could figure out why. Ever since I came on full-time, you’ve been avoiding me, shooting me dirty looks, and…” I trailed off and blew out a breath. “Can you please just tell me what the hell?”

  Lucas’s chuckle was full of self-depreciation. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

  I turned around to face him. “The time for tha
t is past, don’t you think? You kissed me, Lucas. Kissed me like I was the last breath of fresh air you’d ever taste. You bought me slippers. You took care of me. But we haven’t even had a conversation. Not a real one. So how about we do that now?”

  For a very long, tense moment, Lucas didn’t say a word. Eventually, he blew out a breath and finally looked at me. “You want the unvarnished truth?”

  My response was quick and heartfelt. “Please.”

  A beat of silence and a deep breath. And then Lucas said, “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”

  I was floored by his admission. And it took me a minute to realize my jaw had fallen open. I shut it with a snap. I tried to wrap my brain around the information, but all I could manage to do was eke out a single word. “What?”

  “Yeah.” Lucas’s deep blue eyes remained fixed on mine. “But I couldn’t have you, right? Because I can’t be out. If I’m out, I can kiss the career I have good-bye.”

  “You’re gay?” I couldn’t stop the incredulous tone. My brain was stuck.

  He cocked his head to the side and studied me like he didn’t know what to do with me. “Yes.”

  “And you want me?” I sounded like an idiot, but I was still stuck. I could not fathom what he was saying.

  Lucas’s smile was soft and affectionate. “Yes.”

  “But you were always so cold and indifferent!” I burst out. Apparently, I had lost my filter. I shook my head and tried to get my brain back online.

  “I’m sorry about that.” His tone was heartfelt. “I am. I just…I couldn’t seem to help it. There you were, so gorgeous and sweet. All I wanted to do was grab you, hold you tight. And I couldn’t.”

  “I need to sit.” It was only three steps to the couch, and I sank down onto its soft surface gratefully. Holy shit. I expected that there’d be some admission tonight, but his blatant honesty was jarring. “My father was right.”

  “Pardon me?”

  I gave a weak chuckle. “He seemed to think you were, uh, pulling my pigtails.”

  Lucas gave a small laugh and crossed the floor to sit beside me. He wasn’t too close, but not too far away either. I could have reached out and touched him. For the moment, I kept my hands to myself.

  “Well, not exactly,” he said. He slid just a fraction closer. “I wasn’t trying to get your attention by being mean. I was trying to convince you to stay away from me so I wouldn’t be tempted.”

  I nodded because I could see that now. It was my turn to close a little space, and I watched Lucas suck in a breath as I did it. “So what changed?”

  “I’m a jealous bastard,” he answered without hesitation. His gaze was clear and focused on me, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “They told us you were coming on full-time, that your character and Dan’s were going to have a relationship, and my entire world turned green.”

  I grinned. I couldn’t help it. I had to appreciate the prose. “It’s not real, you know.” I kept my voice teasing and then lowered it until I was speaking in a stage whisper. “It’s just for the show.”

  Lucas laughed, a deep rich sound, and I was gratified to be the one to cause it. “Yes, I know.” He was teasing me right back and that felt good. “I didn’t say I was being logical. But it pisses me off that Dan gets to kiss you and I don’t.”

  “Ah.” I closed the remaining distance between us. Our knees were touching. “But you did kiss me.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice dropping. He licked his lips, and my gaze tracked the motion of his tongue. God, he had a beautiful mouth.

  “You want to kiss me again.” It was not a question.

  He answered it anyway. “Fuck yes.”

  I leaned forward, ready for exactly that. Lucas mirrored my motion, but then suddenly pulled back. His gaze darted around the room, and then he stood abruptly. He started back toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I have dinner.”

  “Lucas?” I queried softly. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to startle him any further.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. He blew out a breath, and his hand came up to rub at the back of his neck again. “There can’t be more kissing. I want to. God you have no idea—.” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. His eyes turned beseeching as he looked me. “Aaron. I can’t—won’t—come out. More kissing, or anything else, is a bad idea.”

  The rejection seared through my veins. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. But then I made myself push those feelings aside and focus on what Lucas was actually saying. He was being a stand-up guy, trying not to string me along. He knew what his limits were, and if I were honest, I respected that he was unwilling to compromise. A different time and a different situation, and I might have felt differently. He was a leading man, and those were the roles he wanted to get. For me, with no such aspirations, I could afford to be a little bit freer with my orientation. I understood him perfectly.

  “I could eat,” I said, answering his question instead of saying the million other things that were running through my brain. “You cooked?”

  “I ordered,” he said. I could tell from his expression that he was relieved I’d let it go. He didn’t know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t push. Not about this. Maybe in time we’d get to know each other better. But right now, we were on shaky ground. I could be patient and see how it all worked out. Now that I knew how he felt about me, waiting was easy.

  “Give me just a minute, all right?” His earnest expression made me smile, and I nodded my agreement. While he puttered around in the kitchen, I stood and once again took in the view out the window.

  I knew Lucas had to make good money as the star of the show. His apartment was beyond gorgeous, and I could see the little touches that he brought to the place. A bookshelf overflowing with paperbacks from various genres, and an end table that looked handmade. A framed poster from the movie he’d shot right before he got the role on Rourke and Geary, the one that had made him a star. A small glass fish tank, maybe only a gallon or two, containing a fat orange and white goldfish. The place was both well-appointed and homey, and it felt like him.

  “It’s ready, Aaron.” Lucas’s soft voice pulled my mind back to the present, and I turned to give him a smile. As I walked closer, I saw him swallow. “I got spaghetti pomodoro because I know you like it, but there’s also lasagna if you prefer. And bread and side salads.”

  I cocked my head, studying him as he led me to table. It was set for two, and the food smelled delicious. I let him pull out my chair, and I sat before I asked, “How did you know I liked it?”

  He gave a small self-conscious chuckle. He averted his gaze. “You ordered it that night at DeLorio’s. Did you know that your pleasure is telegraphed perfectly on your face?”

  I fought a blush. “And you were watching me.”

  His response was so soft, I almost missed it. “Always.”

  I wanted to ask him about that, to push for more of an explanation, but I didn’t want to embarrass him, and I thought it was better to leave it alone. “The spaghetti sounds great.”

  Lucas nodded. He started serving us our dishes and passing me one of the small salads and a slice of already-buttered bread. He reached for the ice bucket at the side of the table and held up a bottle of wine. “I’ve got a really nice sauvignon blanc. Crisp and tart. Maybe not the most traditional wine to serve with this meal but…” He let the sentence trail off.

  I offered him a grin. “It goes well enough. I’d love a glass.” And one glass was all I would have. After dinner, I was sure I was out the door. We’d gotten things straight between us, we both knew where the other stood, and it didn’t seem to be going any further. We would have this meal, and I thought it would help the peace between us. I was hoping that, in the future, Lucas would be much warmer toward me. It’d make for a nice change.

  Dinner passed with pleasant, if somewhat stilted, conversation. I was sure Lucas felt as awkward as I did. But we both made the effort. In between bites, we talked about the show,
other members of the cast and crew, how we got our start in Hollywood. I learned that his first name was actually Patrick, but that his father’s was, too, and he’d been called by his middle name since birth. It was why he’d chosen it as his stage name. I told him how I’d caught the acting bug in middle school, got my degree in theater, and had visions of being a big Broadway star.

  “And you got into TV how?” he asked, scooping up another small bite of lasagna.

  I smiled fondly, remembering. “I was auditioning for commercials at the same time as plays, and was cast in a few before I ever landed a role on the stage. Casper Jones was at one of the shoots, looking for new talent, and approached me. He changed my life.”

  Lucas nodded. “I know of Cas. He’s got a reputation as a good guy and a stellar agent. Good for you.”

  I agreed. I’d been lucky when I signed with Cas. “What about you?”

  He gave an easy shrug. “Familiar story. Ran away to LA to make it big the second I graduated high school. Did a lot of modeling and bit parts and a fuck-ton of waiting tables. Then I had my big break five years ago when I was cast in Polarizing Effects.” He gestured behind him to the poster on the wall. “After that, I could be a lot choosier, and when my agent sent me to the audition for the show, I knew it was where I wanted to be.”

  Conversation seemed easier after that. We shared stories of our time working in the business, trying to outdo each other with horror stories or funny ones. Lucas was five years older than I was and had been working longer, so he won. But I didn’t mind. I was enjoying it. I was happy to stay right there and keep talking to him. When he tried to pour more wine, I refused. But after he cleared the dinner dishes and pulled ice cream out of the fridge for dessert, I happily accepted that.

  We kept talking as we ate our rocky road. The topics turned more serious and I related how my parents reacted when I came out to them at fourteen. I confessed my thoughts that my mother still had a bit of a problem with it, that I felt like she still wanted me to eventually settle down with a nice girl, but that she was trying and that’s all I could ask for. Lucas got quiet after that and seemed intently focused on his ice cream.