Encore Encore (30 page)

David opened his phone, punched in Gavin’s number and waited.

Gavin answered on the third ring. Or maybe growled was a more accurate description. “This better be good, Sully. I am extremely busy at the moment.”

232 Gardner ~ His Leading Man

In the background David heard masculine laughter and the distinct rustling of sheets. So okay, he’d interrupted his friend in the middle of getting some. Maybe a little annoyance was understandable.

“Sorry, Gee. I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah, yeah. What do you want?”

“Can you give me Christine’s number? I want to talk to her about those casting suggestions she had.”

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

By the time Kieran exited the terminal, the snow was already coating the ground. Snowfl akes caught in his hair and stung his cheeks like tiny, icy tears. He shivered and hitched his carry-on higher up on his shoulder. He’d brought only the one bag with him from LA. First because in order to make his fl ight he’d had to haul ass, and just escaping the captivity of his condo with that mob of reporters outside had been a feat of near superhuman proportions. Second, because if David refused to consider him for the part of Michael, or, and this was even worse, refused to see him at all, Kieran had no desire to remain in the winter ravaged Northeast for longer than it would take to get back to the airport. Not that California held any appeal besides the sunshine and warm temperatures. In fact, if David wouldn’t see him, he had no idea what he would do or even where he would go.

Don’t think about that. David would see him. He had to.

Kieran walked to the head of the line of waiting cabs, opened the back door and was greeted by a blast of heat from the interior. He slid gratefully into the backseat, gave the driver David’s address then settled back against the seat and took out his phone.

He had about a million messages and texts, most of which were from people whose names he didn’t recognize or, if he did recognize, didn’t want to talk to. One by one he deleted messages from reporters and so-called friends who had seen either the
Spotlight
story or what he took to be the even more infl ammatory follow-up piece on his and Will’s breakup fi ght.

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Oh my freakin’ God. He so did not want to see that one. He wondered briefl y if David had seen either story. Hopefully no, but with the way his luck was going, probably yes.

He came to a message from Christine and smiled as it played.

Beep.

“Kieran, sweetie, where in the hell are you? Things have gone crazy around here. You’re the talk of the town, you and Will. Call me when you get this.”

And another one

Beep.

“Kieran, what is going on? Where are you? I’m getting really worried about you, sweetie. This is so not funny. Call me.”
Beep.

“Kieran, for God’s sake! Call me the instant you get this, do you hear me?”

The next half dozen messages were not from Christine.

Kieran deleted them. Then came her voice again.

“Okay, you are either dead in a ditch or you are ignoring me, in which case you might as well be dead in a ditch because that means you aren’t going to get the fantastic news I have for you.

Your loss. Anyway, if you aren’t in a ditch, call me.” Kieran grinned but just as he was about to dial her back, the cab turned onto David’s street, their street, where a lifetime ago they had shared that dumpy little apartment and David had loved him. His heart began to pound with a mixture of excitement and terror. He snapped the phone closed, forgetting everything save what lay in his immediate future, his very immediate future, like the next ten to fi fteen minutes.

The cab slowed to a stop in front of David’s building. Kieran pulled bills from his wallet and passed them to the driver. Should he ask him to wait? Maybe. What if David refused to see him? Or what if he no longer lived here?

234 Gardner ~ His Leading Man

No, just no. He was here now, just a heartbeat away from his moment of truth. Asking the cabby to wait felt like a loss of the faith that had carried him all this way. As if by giving in to the doubt, he was screwing with fate, and right then he needed fate to be his friend.

Kieran shut the cab’s rear door, crossed the sidewalk and mounted the front steps, his sneakers leaving footprints in the freshly fallen snow.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

“Ah, papi, feels so good.” Underneath David Emilio squirmed. His dick pushed against David’s own, so hard and hot even through multiple layers of clothing.

“I want to fuck you so bad, baby.” Pinning the younger man’s hands above his head, David ground their cocks together as he leaned in and took Emilio’s mouth in yet another deep, wet kiss.

Outside the wind moaned and fl ung fi stfuls of ice against the windows. Inside where it was warm and the TV turned low, ESPN murmured in the background, the night’s sports recap providing a familiar soundtrack for their makeout session on the couch.

Eager as always, Emilio wrapped one leg around David’s waist and humped against him.

David broke the kiss. He raised his head and grinned down at the dancer. “Let’s take this in the bedroom before you make me come in my pants.”

Emilio laughed. “I haven’t come in my pants since I was a kid.”

Which couldn’t have been so very long ago, David thought as he rolled off Emilio and got to his feet. He held out a hand to help the other man up, but just as he caught those long graceful fi ngers in his, there was a knock at his door.

“Hey, you got a visitor.” Emilio let David pull him up. He pressed close and kissed the corner of his jaw. “You got another ENCORE! ENCORE!
235

boytoy I don’t know about?”

“Nope.” David shook his head. “You are my one and only boytoy, baby.”

“That’s what they all say.” Emilio grinned and gave David’s ass a friendly pat. “Go get rid of whoever it is and I’ll wait for you in the bed. Just don’t be long, yeah?” He should ignore it, that was what he should do. Who in the hell knocked on someone’s door at nearly one in the morning?

Most likely whoever it was had the wrong apartment.

David padded over in his sock-feet and after checking to be sure the chain was secure, open the door and found Kieran, of all people, standing in the hall.

What the hell? He must be hallucinating or dreaming. Yeah, dreaming was more like it, though he’d never had this particular one before.

David blinked. “Kieran?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Kieran smiled shyly. “Um, surprise?” His nose was red from the cold, his hair and shoulders dusted with snow. There were even a few fl akes caught in his eyelashes.

And goddamn, but he looked good! Better than good, he looked positively edible.

“What are you doing here?”

Yeah, brilliant piece of dialogue there, genius. He was supposed to be a screen writer, for God’s sake, couldn’t he do better than that?

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, shit. Sure, of course. Let me take the chain off.” David closed the door enough to slip the chain then opened it wide.

“Come in. God, Kieran, what are you doing here?” This was no dream and, stupid or not, that was all he could think of to say. Kieran was here. In New York. In his apartment.

“I know it’s late.” Kieran paused just inside the doorway. “I just—”

236 Gardner ~ His Leading Man

“Hey, papi, who is it?”

David and Kieran both turned in time to see a barefoot and shirtless Emilio emerge from the short hallway that led to the bedroom. With his dark hair mussed and his jeans still on but not buttoned or zipped, he looked like exactly what he was, an extremely hot, extremely fuckable boytoy.

Holy freakin’ shit!

In the shock of fi nding Kieran at his door, David had completely forgotten about him.

“I’m sorry.” Kieran looked from Emilio to David, his eyes wide and color staining his cheeks. He took a stumbling step back and reached behind him for the door knob. “I thought— I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

Yanking open the door, Kieran turned and fl ed.

Before the echo of the slam had completely faded, David was at the door, tearing it open. “Kieran, wait!” He heard feet pounding down the steps. They never even slowed. Then the front door opened and shut with a bang. Then nothing.

Christ.

David rubbed a hand over his face. Confusion and despair warred inside him. What was that? And what was he supposed to do about it?

Emilio gripped his shoulder and turned him around. With the apology already on the tip of his tongue, David faced him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to see that.” Emilio waved away his apology. “Don’t apologize. Go after him.”

“What? But what about you?”

“Listen, we don’t love each other, you and me. We have great sex, really great sex, but that’s it.” Emilio grabbed David’s keys from the end table and shoved them into his hand. “Him, you love. I see it when you look at him and I don’t even know him.” ENCORE! ENCORE!
237

Snatching up David’s jacket from the back of a chair and his shoes from the fl oor, he thrust the lot at him. “Now go before he disappears for good.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” Emilio shoved David out the door. “I’ll lock up when I leave. Go, fi nd your man. Go!”

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

God, he was a jackass! A stupid, stupid, stupid jackass!

At the top of the front steps, Kieran slid, skidded, lost his footing and went down hard. Shit! Now he was a stupid jackass with a wet and, oh yeah black and blue ass. But he couldn’t stop, not even long enough to categorize his bruises, not with the bitter taste of humiliation still so fresh in his mouth.

He scrambled to his feet, nearly slipped again and caught himself. With no car and no plan and no place to go, he scanned the quiet street. The steadily falling snow lent a hushed and muffl ed air to the night. At the end of the block a salt truck rumbled by. Because the street would be busier at the intersection, Kieran turned in that direction and began to walk.

His back and his butt throbbed from his trip down the steps.

Luckily there were only four steps or he might have done some serious damage. Still he was going to have some very colorful bruises come tomorrow. His jeans clung wet and icy cold to his legs and ass, chilling him clear through to the bones. He hunched his shoulders and clenched his teeth against the shivering.

Please let a cab come along soon, like really soon, like right now would be good.

Even through all his misery and embarrassment, a tiny fl ame of hope fl ickered in Kieran’s heart that he might turn and see David coming after him, that David would reach his side, pull Kieran into his arms and say that it was all a big misunderstanding, that the half-naked Latino hottie was… who? The building handyman maybe, come to unclog the toilet?

Yeah, sure. And how pathetic was he to think that David
238 Gardner ~ His Leading Man

would even care enough to come out into the snow after him?

Idiot! No, David was back in his warm apartment with the door locked against midnight intruders and crazy ex-boyfriends.

He was up there right now probably fucking that pretty boy’s brains out while he—

“Kieran!”

Kieran heard David’s call and spotted the cab at the same moment. Despite the bone-chilling cold, he still burned with the mortifi cation of what he’d just walked in on. Because of that and because he so much wanted to turn around, he dashed forward, off the curb and into the street, waving his arm wildly to get the cabby’s attention.

“Taxi!”

“Damn it, Kieran! Wait!”

The cab slowed to a stop. Kieran reached it and yanked open the door and threw himself inside. But his overnight bag caught on the door, nearly yanking him back into the street. With a curse he stopped, freed it and jerked it in after him. Nearly home free, his fi ngers closed around the door handle.

“No, goddamn it, no!”

The door was seized and wrenched out of Kieran’s grip.

David piled into the cab and would have ended up in Kieran’s lap if he hadn’t slid over just in time.

The door slammed and David turned on him, eyes blazing with temper. “What the hell are you doing? You show up at my house in the middle of the night, knock on my door then go haring off like—”

“Get out of my cab!” Kieran planted both hands in the middle of David’s chest and shoved as if he might physically force his ex-lover out through the closed door.

“No fucking way. Not until we fi nish this once and for all.”

“Then I will.” Kieran reached for the opposite door. But David was quick and snagged both his wrists, pinning them. “Let ENCORE! ENCORE!
239

me go! I hate you! Let me go!”

“Kieran, stop it! God, you’re freezing, and you’re soaked. Stop it, I said. Stop it!”

He struggled in David’s grip. But even though David had always been on the skinny side, he was still the bigger and stronger of the two of them and simply wrapped his arms around Kieran and held him.

“JFK,” Kieran yelled at the driver. “Take me to JFK right now.”

The driver didn’t even turn his head. God bless New York cabbies, Kieran thought and nearly laughed as the cab started to move.

David’s arms were like a vise around his chest. Kieran gasped.

“You’re crushing my lungs. God, David.”

“Then quit struggling.”

The arms around him loosened minutely. David’s face was only inches from his, kissing distance, Kieran thought a little crazily. He stopped fi ghting and went still. When he could breathe again, he inhaled the rank odor of the cab’s interior and the smell of the cold, along with David’s familiar scent. A lump formed in his throat and for a moment Kieran had to fi ght to keep from burying his face against David’s neck. As much as he wanted to, and oh yeah he wanted to, he would not burrow in and wrap himself in the heat and the scent and all consuming Davidness of the man holding him, because that would be just too pathetic.

So they sat with their faces inches apart, with the hum of the cab’s engine and the moan of the wind and the sound of their breath fi lling Kieran’s head as tears stung his eyes.