Locked (PresLocke Series Book 2) (6 page)

I glanced over to where Ace was pulling his keys out of the pocket of his dark jeans, and then, as he moved ahead of me, let my eyes roam over the way he filled out the back of them.
 

Oh yeah. That’s all mine.

“See you bright and early?” he asked, looking over his shoulder, and when he noticed where my eyes were focused, he laughed.
 

“What’s so funny?”
 

“You. It’s a good thing we’re not hiding anymore.”

“Can I help it if your ass is the kind of thing people would gladly drop to their knees for?”

“I only care about one particular person dropping to their knees for me. See you soon, Daydream,” Ace said with a wink, and then slipped inside his Range Rover.

With a sigh, I got into the back of the Town Car, said hey to Ace’s security guard, Frank, and let him drive me away from the man I’d be breaking out the lube for later.
 

And what movie of his should I watch tonight to get myself off to—

“Oh holy shit,” I said as the Town Car passed through the studio gate and directly into a horde of people on both sides of the sidewalk shouting out questions, their cameras going off as we passed. I slid down in the seat and shielded my face with my hand like a visor as we drove the short distance to my place.
 

It wasn’t any better when we got there, either.
 

You’ve gotta be kidding me
, I thought, as the car slowed in front of my apartment building. I couldn’t even see the entrance to the stairs that led up to my studio because the entire lawn and sidewalk were covered in a sea of strangers, and as we came to a stop, what had been a quiet assembly seconds ago was now full-on pandemonium.

“Stay right there, Mr. Prescott. I’ll take you up to your place. What floor?”

I numbly gave him my apartment number, and then he was out of the car, fighting through the crowd to come open my door.
 

Oh God… Do I really have to get out of the car, or can I just hide in here?
I reached for my sunglasses that I usually left hanging at the top of my shirt, but when they weren’t there, I cursed. Then the back door cracked open and Frank was there, his arm stretched out to ward off anyone that came too close. The shouts were deafening as I got out, and after Frank shut the door behind me, he put his large hand on my back and slowly guided us through the crushing mob. I felt pressed in on on all sides, as I heard:

“What can you tell us about your relationship with Ace Locke?”

“How long have you been keeping your romance quiet?”

“Did Ace get you the part in
Insurrection 2
?”

Keeping my chin tucked to my chest and my eyes down on the ground in front of me so I wouldn’t trip, I let Frank lead me for what felt like an eternity. By the time we got to the base of the stairs that led up to my apartment, I was sweating, and it wasn’t until Frank dropped me off, and I shut and locked the door after him, that I was able to take my first deep breath.
 

That was crazy…

I hadn’t seen Ace deal with crowds to that extent since I’d known him, and I’d foolishly let myself forget that he wasn’t just a normal guy who might have a couple of people follow him every now and again. No, he was a mega freakin’ movie star, and people all over the world knew who he was. I let that sink in for a minute. People all over
the world.
So it wasn’t just that crowd outside, or the press waiting outside the studio, or the ones that followed him home. No, those people were just the messengers that reported back to those thousands and thousands of people who were hungry for anything and everything about Ace they could get their hands on.
 

I rubbed my hand over my eyes and went to the kitchen to pour a cold glass of water, downing it in one long gulp. As I leaned back against the counter, I bumped into the vase of flowers Ace had given me before we’d left for Vegas. The mix of bright yellow, purple, and pink blooms were as fresh as ever, untainted by the insanity of the past two days, and after taking in a deep breath of them, I pulled out my phone and hit a button.
 

“Miss me already?” came Ace’s deep voice, though it sounded like I was on speakerphone. A quick glance at the time told me there was no way he’d made it home yet, especially not if he had anyone trailing him.

“Always,” I said, and then, “Ace, they’ve got my apartment surrounded.”

“What? The press is there?”

“Frank just had to pull us through…fuck, I don’t even know how many people are out there.”

“Damn, they work fast. I thought we had a little more time before they found out where you were.”

“Not so lucky.”

Ace let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry—”

“I said no more apologizing.”

“Yeah, but they’re staked out at your place. It’s not like you have a gate to keep them out. Do you want me to have Frank bring you over here?”

“No, no, of course not. They’re not gonna be breaking and entering or anything, I just thought…you should know. Is all.”

“I’m serious, if you want to pack your shit and come over here—”

“Then I’ll do that. But I’m good. Really. I’m just gonna eat dinner, stalk you on TV, and then pass the hell out. Promise.”

“Okay…” Ace still sounded unsure, but I was adamant.
 

“Have fun with Roger.”

“Oh God. I will. Call you after?”

“Looking forward to it.”

After hanging up, I ventured into my cramped living room area and flopped on the couch. Then I flicked on the TV, and shot straight up when the image staring back at me was—me.

Wow. Okay, that’s new.

The reporter was smiling broadly at her co-anchor as they speculated over Ace’s new
hottie in the hotel.

Oh Lord.
I brought the heels of my hands to my eyes and rubbed them as if I could erase the images following the original one, but no, there I was.
 

Me, standing in the doorway to Ace’s suite with a towel wrapped around my waist, my hair slicked back from the shower, and my mouth hanging open. And right there, over my shoulder, was Ace wearing exactly the same thing.
Incriminating much?
We looked like we’d spent the morning together in the shower…which
,
of course, we had.
 

The next photo to pop up on the screen was Ace leading me through Syn’s hotel lobby. My head was down, but whoever had caught the photo had snapped it at the perfect moment, because Ace had looked directly at them and damn, his eyes were volatile there. A gorgeous, thunderous blue.

The man sure was magnetic, there was no doubt about it, even when he was pissed as hell.

Then up flashed the photo the reporter proclaimed was her favorite, and I sat up on the couch, scooting to the edge of the seat, almost dreading what I would see.

It was a snapshot of Ace opening the car door for me once we’d passed through the paparazzi at Syn, and his hand was on my lower back as he’d helped me inside the Town Car. They showed the faraway shot encompassing the crowd and the two of us, and then zoomed in on the hand on my back, and the reporter giggled like a high school girl.

“Oh, I don’t know about you, Brad, but it makes my heart flutter to finally see Ace out and about with someone he clearly can’t keep his hands off.”

Brad, her co-anchor, a man who could pass as a Ken doll, shot her a bright white smile and nodded. “Yes, it’ll be interesting to find out more about this mysterious stranger who seems to have captured Hollywood’s favorite action star. Up until now, Ace has been very private in respect to his recent, and very public, coming out. But with the way this story has exploded over the last forty-eight hours, and with no denial of what we’re all seeing, it’s obvious this man is someone special that Locke has been keeping under wraps.”

I hit the off button on the remote and the TV went black. How weird was it to have people talking about you as if you’d been part of some huge conspiracy or cover-up? And now I understood what Ace meant about everything changing now that the public knew, because it was only a matter of hours before they learned my name. I was actually shocked they didn’t know it already, and then everything in my world would be up for scrutiny—not just the way I looked.

Was I ready for that? Fuck, I sure hoped so.

* * *
 

AFTER WEAVING MY way through the crowd of photographers surrounding the front gate of my subdivision, I drove up my driveway toward the garage and spotted Roger’s SUV parked off to the side waiting on me.
 

Great
. He was early. I wasn’t even going to get five minutes to get myself together after my shit-tastic day before I had to deal with him. I pressed the button for my garage, and as it slowly rose I saw the door to Roger’s car open and he stepped down, his eyes pinned to the tinted window on my driver’s side.
 

Oh yeah
, he was good and pissed. Whatever. I’d had it with people having a damn opinion on mine and Dylan’s relationship today. Between Ron, and the entire cast of
Insurrection 2,
treating us like lepers, Roger’s attitude was the
last
thing I wanted to deal with.

Not five seconds after I pulled the car to a stop and got out, Roger was on me like white on rice.

“Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he said.

I shut the door and moved past him to open the back one, leaning in to grab my bag. Once it was slung over my shoulder, I rounded back to face my silver-haired, red-faced manager.

“Loud
and
proud, haven’t you heard?”

Roger’s beady eyes grew shrewd, and he pointed a finger at me. “Oh, you think you’re real slick, don’t you? Do you know what a clusterfuck you’ve caused us over these past two days?”

“I’ve caused an issue? Really? Huh, I hadn’t heard a word about it.”

I shoved by him and made my way toward the connecting door to my house. He followed so close behind that I was surprised the toes of his shoes weren’t hitting the backs of my heels.

“Why are you doing this?”

I didn’t bother stopping; I just rolled my eyes and continued down the hall into the seating area off the kitchen.

“I mean, help me understand, Ace. Why now? Why, when your career is off the charts and everything you touch turns to goddamn gold, would you parade around a boy toy?”

I chose to ignore him as I kicked off my shoes, determined to get a beer from the fridge before I engaged, but Roger wasn’t letting up.

“Were you lonely? Horny? We could’ve hooked you up discreetly.”

“Oh give it a—”

“Does he have a fifteen-inch cock or something? I mean, tell me what is so special about this kid that you’re willing to fuck us all over.”

That. Was. It.
 

I whirled around on the man who’d been in charge of my career for nearly a decade and lost it. “First,” I said, and took a step toward Roger that had him backing away.
Good to know he’s smart in
some
aspects.
“You need to shut up for one damn second in your life, and listen to me. Let’s get a few things straight. Or maybe we should finally lay this out exactly for what it is, and get things
not
so fucking straight.”

Roger’s jaw bunched, and I could tell he was physically holding back some sort of comment that was dying to slip free. But that was too bad. I was sick and tired of tiptoeing around my sexuality, and it was high time they knew it, got on board with it, or got the hell out of my life.

For as long as I could remember I had, in some respect, been hiding who I was. Whether it was from my parents, myself, or the public, I was always hiding—and I was done. No one was going to tell me this was wrong. No one was going to talk shit about Dylan in my presence, and as long as he was willing to put up with all the bullshit that came with my baggage, then by God I was going to fight to make him feel as comfortable by my side as humanly possible.
 

Starting with Roger.

“
You
work for
me
. So I am not screwing you over as far as I am aware. This really has no direct impact on you. I hire you for one specific reason: to keep my career on track. I
pay
you for that reason too. Not to speculate and have an opinion, like everyone else in the world is doing right now.” I paused to take a calming breath, because I could feel my anger close to boiling over on the man glaring back at me. A man whose advice a year ago had been:
Stay in the closet, because no one will understand and your career will tank.
Who cares if you’re unhappy in your private life for your prime years? Being gay is not good for your image.
 

Yeah? Well, to hell with that shit.
“Here’s a news flash for you, Roger. I’m gay. As in, I like dating, hugging, kissing, and fucking men, and you need to get on board and accept that. As for the ‘kid’ I’m seeing. He is a man. His name is Dylan Prescott. And if I ever hear you refer to him in such a disrespectful way ever again, privately or publicly, I’ll fire you quicker than you can blink.” Roger’s mouth opened, and before he could say anything I interrupted, “
Got
it?”

He gave a curt nod. “Got it. Guess you won’t care then that the worldwide Blue Obsession ad just pulled out of their contract. You know, since we’re laying everything out on the table.”

Roger’s words were like a right hook to the jaw as they penetrated my brain and I comprehended exactly what he’d just said.
 

Blue Obsession dropped me? Really?
I’d just signed those papers last week. My shock must’ve been evident, because Roger looked triumphant as he nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, delighted that he’d gotten in his own jab after my tirade.
 

I raised my hands to my face and rubbed it, weary beyond belief. This was exactly what I’d feared would happen, and then stupidly told myself wouldn’t. People were running scared from the gay action star because,
Shit…we’ve never had one of those before.