“On the other hand,” Jason conceded, “if you think there’s a chance we can do both, I’m all in favor.”
Ben tilted his head, as if weighing the odds.
Ding-dong.
“Oh shit,” Jason groaned.
Was that the doorbell? The music box had run out, but Jason was able to read the words on Ben’s lips.
“It was.” Jason sighed. “I suppose it would be bad form to answer the door without my pants.”
Ben laughed silently and said something that might have been, I dare you.
It was a dare Jason chose not to accept.
He pulled on sweats and a T-shirt, grabbed the snow globe, winding the key on the music box out of habit as he took the stairs two at a time. Still, the doorbell rang a second time before he made it to the entryway.
“I’m coming!”
He glanced down at the tent in his pants. He wasn’t fully erect anymore, but he wasn’t flaccid either. If he’d taken the extra few seconds to put on underwear first, it would have been fine. But going freestyle in his sweatpants, he was still making a bit of a show. He pulled his T-shirt down, hoping to keep things out of view until his anatomy returned to its full “at ease” position, and cracked the door open just enough to peer out.
“What the hell took you so long?” Dylan asked, laughing. “Are you going to let me in or what?”
For a moment, Jason could only stand there, stunned to find Dylan on his front porch.
“Who is it?” Ben asked from behind him.
“Dylan.”
“Yes?” Dylan said in confusion.
Not a great start to what he was sure would be a comedy of errors, speaking to Ben even though Dylan couldn’t see or hear him. “What are you doing here?” Jason asked, too discombobulated to come up with anything subtler.
“I came to see you, dummy. Are you going to open the door, or do you intend to make me stand outside on the porch all afternoon?”
“No. No, of course not.” Jason opened the door the rest of the way, stepping back to allow Dylan inside. “You surprised me. I wasn’t expecting company.
“I kind of figured that out.” Dylan closed the door and glanced pointedly at the tent in Jason’s pants and smiled. “Looks like I came at a good time though.”
“What? Oh God. No.” Jason pulled his shirt down again, trying to hide his waning erection. “I was just— I was—” He had no idea how to finish the sentence. He couldn’t mention Ben, who stood at the end of the hall, glowering glumly at them both. Jason’s only real option as far as explaining away his embarrassing predicament was to say he’d been watching porn or masturbating. He opted instead to change the subject. “What are you doing here?” he asked again.
“Didn’t I already answer that?”
“Uh—”
“I was on my way home from Thanksgiving with my folks back in Michigan, but I don’t have to be back in LA until Wednesday morning, so I thought I’d stop in and see how you’re doing.” He smiled broadly at Jason. “So? How are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“No more scenes at Best Buy?”
Jason sighed. “I’m telling you, I never—”
Dylan laughed and stepped forward to plant a quick kiss on Jason’s lips, silencing him. At the other end of the hall, Ben popped out of sight. “I know,” Dylan said. “I never believed it in the first place.” He stepped back and glanced down at Jason’s hand. “What’s this?” He indicated the snow globe, which Jason had forgotten he was holding.
“Just something I found in the house.” It was mostly true, and yet he was glad Ben hadn’t been there to hear him say it. It felt like a betrayal. It would have been even worse with Ben there. He set the snow globe on the table in the hallway. “I’d offer you a beer, but I don’t have any.”
“Figures.”
“You want a cup of coffee?”
“If that’s the best you can do.”
Jason led the way into the kitchen, keenly aware of the fact that he was leaving Ben behind. Granted, Ben hadn’t reappeared yet, but Jason was used to taking the globe with him anytime he wandered around the house. How could he possibly explain that to Dylan though?
“Have you talked to Natalie?” Dylan asked.
“About Summer Camp Nightmare 4, you mean?”
“Yeah. Are you in?”
Jason thought about it as he slid a mug into place and turned on the coffee maker. “I don’t know.”
“Did you read the script like you promised?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“That was only yesterday.”
Dylan shrugged. “I think you should do it.”
Jason sighed and focused on brewing the second cup. “Is that why you stopped by? To talk me into taking the part?”
“No.” But he sounded confused. “I just wanted to see you. Is that all right?”
“Of course.” But he didn’t meet Dylan’s eyes as he held a mug toward him. “Here you go.”
Dylan took it, and Jason shrank a bit under the scrutiny of his gaze. Dylan’s usually cocky, flirtatious smile turned into an uncertain frown. It was an expression that seemed utterly foreign on his face. “I guess I should have called, but—well fuck, Jase. I sound like an arrogant prick saying it, but I assumed you’d be happy to see me.”
Jason winced. After all, it wasn’t Dylan’s fault. For ten years now, they’d played this game, Jason waiting quietly and Dylan showing up whenever the urge struck. Never once had he not been thrilled to find Dylan at his door. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault everything had changed. And it wasn’t Jason’s fault that he had no logical way to explain it.
“I am glad to see you,” he said. And it wasn’t totally a lie. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
Dylan set his coffee aside and held out his hand, and Jason went to him, letting Dylan pull him into his arms. It felt good. Maybe not in the way it once had, but Dylan was still the best friend he had. He gladly returned the embrace.
“I am glad to see you,” he said again, meaning it even more this time. He kissed Dylan on the cheek and pulled away. “I guess I’ve gotten used to being alone.”
“You’ve always been used to that. I don’t know how you keep from going crazy.”
Jason took his own mug of coffee and led Dylan into the dining room. Ben had reappeared. With the globe in the hallway, he couldn’t get past the doorway, but he stood just outside it, clutching his arms across his chest. He wasn’t angry anymore. Now he looked nothing less than heartbroken. It was like a punch in the gut seeing the anguished expression on his face.
“Please don’t worry,” Jason said to him.
“About what?” Dylan asked.
“Ummm . . .” What had he and Dylan been talking about? “About me going crazy,” Jason said, trying to make it sound like a joke. But he made sure he met Ben’s eyes, so Ben knew he was talking to him. “I love it here. Really.”
It was all in vain. Ben wasn’t appeased, and when Jason set his coffee aside and turned to face Dylan, he could tell his oldest friend wasn’t convinced. And worst of all, Jason still saw no graceful way out of his awkward predicament.
“What did you do for Thanksgiving?” Dylan asked him.
“I stayed here.”
“Alone?”
Jason debated. He wanted to say he’d spent the day with a friend, but that would lead to questions he wasn’t able to answer.
“Jason?” Dylan asked, narrowing his eyes when no answer was forthcoming. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“Honestly? You look like shit.”
“Awesome. I’m glad you could stop in to tell me that.”
“I’m serious.” Dylan stepped closer and put the back of his fingers against Jason’s forehead, then his cheek. “No fever, but you’re white as a ghost. Your eyes are red.” He touched Jason’s damp hair. “Just showered, by the looks of it. Haven’t shaved in a couple of days at least.” He shook his hea
d, his brow wrinkling in concern. “This isn’t like you. Are you feeling okay?”
“No,” Jason said, latching on to the easy excuse. “I think I’m coming down with a cold or something.” Given how shitty he’d felt upon waking, it might even have been the truth. “I slept most of the morning. Woke up with a killer headache. I’m not exactly fit for company, at the moment. I’m sorry.”
Dylan frowned at him, his fingertips lingering on Jason’s cheek. “When was the last time you ate anything?”
“I had some toast about an hour ago.”
“Besides that?”
Jason thought about it. It was surprising to realize how long it had been. “Sometime yesterday afternoon, I guess.”
Dylan nodded, as if that explained everything. “Okay. I want you to go upstairs and get dressed.”
“Why?”
“Because you need food and I can’t cook worth a damn. You probably don’t have anything worth eating in your kitchen anyway. And frankly, I think a bit of sunshine will do you good.”
“You want to go out?”
“Yes, Captain Obvious. That’s my plan.”
“What if somebody recognizes us?”
“You know, most people who become actors like the idea of being recognized when they go out in public.”
“Most people don’t end up on the cover of StarWatch every time they turn around.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that you only make things worse by hiding yourself away like some kind of crazy hermit?”
“So, what? My private life should be everybody’s business now?”
“I’m not saying you need to make a damn spectacle of yourself every time you go out. But being this afraid of a bit of press?” He shook his head. “It isn’t healthy, Jase. And it only invites speculation.”
“Fine,” Jason grumbled. “I’ll go. As long as you promise not to lecture me all night.”
“I promise.” Dylan took a pill bottle out of his coat pocket. He always had one with him, filled with a combination of God only knew what. He shook a few pills into his hand, then selected two, which he handed to Jason. “Take those. They’ll help. And don’t roll your eyes at me like that. They’re only Valium. They’ll take the edge off your anxiety, that’s all.”
Jason stared down at the two tiny pills. “If we end up on the cover of StarWatch again, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Fine. Now, go change your clothes. Be back down here in five minutes, or there’ll be hell to pay. Got it?”
Jason sighed, knowing he was beat. “Got it.”
He wanted more than anything to take the globe upstairs with him, but he couldn’t do it with Dylan watching. Instead, he went past the sullen image of Ben and up the stairs. He put the pills on his nightstand and changed clothes, as ordered, wondering the entire time if there was a way to take Ben to dinner with them. But no, Dylan would definitely think Jason had lost his mind if he tried to take a tarnished old snow globe into the restaurant. Like it or not, he was stuck.
He went down the stairs like a traitor to the gallows. Both his lovers were waiting for him, Ben at the bottom of the stairs, Dylan at the other end of the hallway by the door. Jason stepped into the bathroom, ostensibly to check his hair. In reality, he’d stopped to talk to Ben, who’d gone from sullen to crestfallen. He seemed as forlorn as he had in those early days in the guesthouse, when Jason had tried to deny his existence.
“I’m sorry,” Jason said, keeping his voice as low as possible.
Ben shrugged halfheartedly. It’s not your fault.
“I won’t leave you stuck in the hallway. Trust me.”
“Who are you talking to?” Dylan asked.
“Myself. I was just saying I need a haircut.”
“I noticed. You look like a hippie. You ready, or what?”
“Yes.” Jason pulled on his coat and followed Dylan outside. He waited until they were in the car with the engine running and Dylan was about to put the car in reverse before saying, “Wait! I forgot my cell phone.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Give me two minutes!”
He ran back in, leaving an exasperated Dylan in the car.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Ben as he grabbed the snow globe and took it into the living room. “I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you, but I had no idea he was coming.” He set the globe on the coffee table and flicked on the TV. “We’re only going out to dinner.” He turned to face Ben, wishing like crazy he could pull him into his arms and kiss him good-bye. “Please don’t be mad.”
Ben shrugged but looked as miserable as before. Just go. He winked out of sight.
“I’m sorry!” Jason called to the empty room.
No answer.
Still, Jason left the TV on in case Ben decided to come back.
Dylan announced in the car that he was taking Jason to a tapas bar in Spokane, even though it was almost an hour’s drive. It took a moment for Jason to figure out Dylan had said “tapas” and not “topless,” which caused Dylan to go off on a tangent about how topless tapas would undoubtedly be the next big thing. Jason didn’t bother to ask how Dylan knew about tapas bars in Spokane. Knowing where to go regardless of what town they were in was only one of Dylan’s many talents.
It took a while for Jason to shake his guilt at leaving Ben behind, but he always had fun with Dylan. They took a small booth in the back corner—and Jason was pretty sure Dylan had slipped an outrageous tip to the girl at the door to get it—and began ordering. The food arrived a few bites at a time, allowing them to stretch their meal into an all-evening affair.
Dylan talked nonstop. He talked about Hollywood. About a lousy script he’d been sent by his agent. About a one-shot part he’d landed in a prime-time drama, which was why he had to be back in LA by Wednesday morning, and how if they liked his work, they had a two-week project they might choose him for. He talked about his parents and the rumors that one of their former costars had recently checked into rehab. Finally, after their meal was over, long after Jason had quit drinking and decided he would definitely be the one driving home, Dylan pointed across the restaurant to the bar. They’d arrived well before the dinner rush, but now, several hours later, the place was packed.
“See the guy at the end? The one in the blue shirt?”
Jason looked. The man was hard to miss, not least of all because he was staring right at them. “Yeah.”
“He’s been giving you ‘come fuck me’ eyes for the last hour, and you haven’t even noticed.”
Jason squirmed in his seat. “I’m here with you.”
“Honey, I know I’m hot, but that doesn’t mean you should miss an invitation as blatant as that one.”
Jason shrugged uncomfortably. “You know I’m not into that.”
“What? Sex? Since when?”
“Sex with strangers.”
Dylan leaned closer, grinning wickedly. “He won’t be a stranger for long. Especially not with me involved.”
Jason blinked at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we should take him home with us.”
Jason glanced toward the man in question. He was a couple of years younger than them, but not much. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Now that you’re out, why not run with it? He’s obviously into you.” He winked at Jason. “And I don’t have a problem sharing you.”
“I don’t want anybody to know where I live.”
“Why not?”
“Because he could be a total nutjob.”
Dylan shrugged as if the point were completely inconsequential. “So we’ll go to a hotel. I don’t mind. I’ll even pay.”
Jason shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. His headache was coming back. At some other point in his life, he might have gone along just to make Dylan happy, but not now. Not when Ben was waiting for him. “Not tonight.” He signaled to the waiter for their check, being sure not to make eye contact with the guy at the
bar.
“Your loss, JayWalk.” He laughed. “Well, our loss. But I’m pretty sure you’re the one he’s after.”
They drove home in relative silence, listening to the radio. It wasn’t until Jason unlocked the front door to let them inside that he realized his mistake.
“What the fuck?” Dylan asked, grabbing Jason’s arm as he tried to take off his coat. “Somebody’s been in your house!”
“What?” Jason asked, confused. He turned to search for whatever had caused Dylan’s alarm, but saw only Ben, standing just inside the door of the living room. “What are you talking about?”
“The TV’s on,” Dylan said, pulling out his cell phone. “You should look around and make sure nothing’s missing.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling the police to report a break-in!”
“No!” Jason grabbed the phone out of Dylan’s hand. Thank goodness he hadn’t noticed that the snow globe had been moved too. “Nobody broke in. I . . . I like to leave the TV on when I leave. You know. To confuse burglars.”
He couldn’t tell if Dylan believed him or not, but he stopped trying to call the cops. Jason was glad for that, but he soon realized the cops were the least of his problems. Once they removed their coats, Dylan turned to him, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, his eyes burning with a familiar heat. It made Jason’s blood warm, kindling all the feelings Dylan had long inspired in him. But it also sent off warning sirens in some secret part of his brain.
“Come here.” Dylan pulled Jason into his arms. “I feel like you’ve been miles away all night.”
Jason didn’t resist, but he did his best not to encourage Dylan either. “I told you, I think I’m getting sick.”
“So?”
“I don’t want you to catch it.”
“I’ll risk it.” Dylan kissed his neck, raising goose bumps on Jason’s back, then kissed his cheek. “God, I missed you,” he whispered into Jason’s ear. “I spent all day Thursday thinking about taking off your clothes. My family was passing the turkey, and I was picturing that cute little birthmark on your shoulder blade.”