Acting Out

ACTING OUT

…Had that been a moment, Evan wondered? It was hard to tell. It passed so quickly. What was he thinking? Cree Radek didn’t give moments to mere mortals. And why should he? Evan worked for him. They were just running lines and, in all fairness, Evan had been the one to forget that arrangement. He’d been the one trying to tease Cree with some tongue play. It was good he’d pulled his fingers out when he had. Curry, and he suspected any food, tasted better when licked off Cree. If he’d delayed even a second longer, Evan would have given into temptation and sucked those digits. A finger blow. God, he’d almost slipped up. He couldn’t lose this job. Not yet. Not when he was so close to finding his scumbag father. He needed Cree and his connections. He couldn’t blow this, or Cree, for that matter. Evan’s full cock was becoming uncomfortable. In his old sweats, it wouldn’t take much for Cree to notice the inappropriate bulge going on. Evan shifted carefully, placing the script over his lap to lay open while they ate and ran lines. It seemed like a natural placement. Maybe Cree wouldn’t notice. They worked for another two hours, finally calling it quits around midnight. “Let’s hit the sack,” Cree announced, his voice rasping with the same fatigue Evan felt. “We’re leaving for the set at five.” “In the morning?” Evan asked stupidly. Cree cracked a smile, stretching those perfect lips over equally perfect teeth. They had to have been whitened. No one had a smile that bright. He found himself staring at Cree’s mouth wishing it would come just a little closer…

ALSO BY MIA WATTS Wrong Number, Right Guy

ACTING OUT BY MIA WATTS

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

ACTING OUT AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2011 by Mia Watts ISBN 978-1-61124-172-3 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To the fans who write me. You encourage me more than you know. Thank you.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 1 “Walker! Where’s my fucking set bag?” Evan Walker rolled his eyes. One week on what was supposed to have been his dream job, and all he wanted to do was quit. But quitting wasn’t an option. Not only didn’t he have anywhere else to live, he hadn’t yet made friends in Hollywood. “Walker!” Unfortunately sticking around meant dealing with the juvenile self-importance of one of Hollywood’s hottest actors, Cree Radek. And if he wanted to keep this job, he needed to hop to. “I have it.” Evan held it up by the strap. “The car is waiting for you out front, and I’ve called ahead to have the trailer stocked with your favorite bottled water.” Cree grumbled something under his breath. “Carry it for me. 1

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You’re coming with me today,” he said more audibly. Evan didn’t like that sound of that. All day with Cree? Oh, hell no. “Walker!” “Mr. Radek, all my files are here.” Cree swung around to face him. His longish black hair didn’t budge from its spiky arrangement, and his kohl lined blue eyes stared him down for a minute. He stood typically slouched in black jeans, faded gray cotton shirt, and a black leather silver-studded belt snug around his hips, dripping with chains. His long, lean form and broad shoulders dominated the doorway. “Huh,” Cree muttered. He grabbed the bag from Evan. “Fine. Get your stuff together. I’ll send the car back for you.” Cree strutted out of the house. “But my computer,” Evan called after him. “Buy a laptop, Walker, and get your ass to the set. You’ll be joining me every day,” he yelled back. Beautiful. Apparently there really wasn’t anything he could say to change Cree’s mind. And now he’d be stuck with him day in and day out until production wrapped on the latest flick. Evan groaned. If he had to buy a new laptop to satisfy the boss, so be it. He’d make damn sure it put a dent in the expense card. *

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It took him two hours to play around with every laptop on display, and ask all the important questions. Even the ones he already knew the answers to, because he was dragging his feet. He’d never been on set before and it wasn’t a prospect he was looking forward to. If the tabloids had it right, the ego-wattage 2

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alone would light the entire city of Los Angeles. What Evan most suspected was that Cree’s idea of help would mean becoming the whipping boy. All the responsibilities he already had maintaining Cree’s social, personal, and professional calendars, along with managing his every need before he spoke it, would now include running to restaurants and arguing with directors about movie lines. At least Cree remembered to leave Evan’s name at the gate, he thought, pulling through. He followed the convoluted directions provided by the guard and found a parking spot. Heaving his work bag over his shoulder and the new laptop box to his hip, Evan began the long jaunt to Cree’s trailer. Large warehouse sets bustled with people on either side of the wide alley. A tourist trolley rounded the bend up ahead and stopped beside the row Evan headed toward. He’d never seen Cree interact with fans before. The thought of those somber clear eyes, rimmed with black, pinning a fan as he scrawled his name on a napkin for some squealing mass of Midwestern hysteria didn’t fit any image Evan had of him. But he needn’t have bothered wondering, because Cree wasn’t out there. The tour guide loaded everyone back on the trolley. “Who’s he? Is he anyone?” One beefy finger pointed at Evan from the elongated golf cart. “No,” the guide informed. Evan tried not to sigh as he moved on. Just as he reached Cree’s trailer, which he would have missed if there hadn’t been a giant Cree painted all the way down the side, a guy with a clipboard and a headset came up to him. “We need Mr. Radek in makeup in five.” “Sure,” Evan agreed. “Hey, can you get the door?” 3

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But the man had moved on. Evan balanced the spotted cow box on his hip, and pushed the heavy tote over his other shoulder, behind him. Then, gripping the tiny knob, he twisted, stepped backward down the tiny metal steps to let the door swing open, scooted around, and finally bumbled his way inside. “About fucking time,” Cree muttered, sprawled on an overstuffed leather couch. Evan kept his temper in check. “Makeup wants you.” “Did you get what you needed?” Cree asked tipping his head toward the box. He lifted his hand and, for the first time, Evan noticed a cigarette lodged between two fingers. The smoke curled upward, obscuring his eyes as Cree drew in a breath. “Yes, but I’ll need to set up all the systems.” “Do that between jobs.” Smoke spilled out from between his lips as he spoke. “You smoke now?” Evan asked stupidly. Cree held up the cigarette. “Naw. It’s cloves or some shit. The character smokes. I’m practicing.” “Awesome. Cancer from second hand smoke isn’t in my contract.” Evan put his laptop box on the table and dropped his tote to the floor. “Does it taste good?” “Tastes like ass.” He would have asked if Cree actually knew what ass tasted like, but since Cree was openly bisexual, Evan figured he already had the answer to that. “Other than setting up the new systems, what do you need me to do today?” “Run interference from the fans. Deliver shit that needs delivering. Be my go-between. Take my calls.” Cree took another languid puff. He coughed. “Tell the prop manager to put some mint in this cigarette.” 4

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“Remind you to go to makeup,” Evan ticked off in the same monotone. Cree snorted and rose to his feet. He put out the fake cigarette in the kitchenette sink. The trailer felt impossibly small with Cree casually strolling around in it. “I had some stuff delivered for you while you were out dicking around with the laptop. I left it on the bed in the back.” Without so much as a look in Evan’s direction, Cree left the trailer. “Left me something?” Evan wondered. He craned his neck to see down the hall. The bedroom door hung ajar. Evan shrugged and headed back. On the bed he found a collection of electronics. A smart phone with a collapsible keypad, a touch tablet computer with wireless access, a camera, a digital recorder with downloadable music option, a video camera, and several flash drives. What did he do, buy the whole damn store? But it was more than just convenient items to do his job. If Evan had learned anything in the short time he’d already worked for Cree, it was that Cree liked to make a point. And today’s lesson, brought to Evan by the letters I, P, O, D and the number 64 gigabytes and that Cree had known Evan was stalling. It was Cree’s simple, but effective, way to say that Evan had better stay on his toes or Cree would find someone else to get the job done, faster. Point taken, Mr. Radek. *

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Cree ducked his head and walked purposefully toward hair and 5

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makeup. He hoped Evan liked the electronics he’d left. Cree rationalized that they were items Evan would need for his job anyway. Staying connected meant staying on top of the trends, and that was every bit as important as managing his social calendar. Someone screamed and shouted his name. He thought the trolley had already gone by. Cree didn’t look up. He just wanted to get to hair and makeup, where they’d probably complain about the black eyeliner and the gel in his hair again. He took the steps quickly and slipped inside the brightly lit trailer. “Mr. Radek. Over here please. We’ve been waiting for you.” Susie had been on nearly every set with him. Because of that she tended to treat him like a beloved nephew instead of a star. He eased into the wide barber chair. He was spun and dipped, warm water spraying to his scalp. He should just leave it undone, but there was an image to uphold. It was like if they didn’t have something to complain about, then he wasn’t doing his job as an actor to satisfactorily piss people off. “We’re trimming some length for the role.” “It’s hair. It’ll grow back. Do what you gotta do.” “Who’s the young man?” Susie asked. Cree opened one eye to look at her. “My assistant.” “He’s good-looking. Don’t you scare this one off.” “Who are you, my mother?” Susie shampooed his hair a second time. “Someone sure ought to be. You have a new assistant every time we’re on set together.” “They deserve to be scared off,” he informed her. Susie harrumphed. “You send him over here when you leave.” “Why?” “So I can warn him of all your little tricks.” 6

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“I just bought him a computer,” Cree said. “Cree Radek. You never just do anything.” She’d stopped rinsing to put her wet hands on her hips and glare at him. “I know you think I stay in this box for hair and makeup, but as many hours a day as you sit in my chair when you’re on set, I’ve learned a thing or two.” Cree frowned. “And what might those two things be?” “You aren’t as tough as you act. You’re a decent man at heart, despite all the stay-away-from-me kohl you wear.” He studied her for a long moment. He smiled grudgingly. “Don’t tell anyone.” She winked at him. “You just be sure to bring me that new assistant. You need one that will stick around when you’re acting surly. If he knows to rough it through to the other side, just maybe I’ll see this one on the next set we have together.” Cree sat up. Susie rubbed his head with a towel, wrapped it and then began clearing his face of eyeliner. “I know you mean well. Don’t go talking to Evan,” he said earnestly. Susie sighed. She shook her head like she didn’t understand why he was being so contrary. “All right, Mr. Radek. But if you fire that boy before the end of next week, you’ll answer to me. You are far too busy to be training assistants right and left.” “Yes, ma’am.” Appeased, Susie hummed as she went back to work. Cree’s co-star, Eliza White, sat beside him. “Hey, Cree, I’m so excited to get started today. Aren’t you?” Cree’s gaze met Susie’s in the mirror. Susie smiled her amusement. Looked like there was something else Susie knew about him. He hated chatter. 7

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*

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By the time the shoot wrapped for the day, Evan could barely hold his eyes open. He followed Cree to the sedan where their driver waited. Cree got in. Evan and the driver loaded the trunk with gadgetry. Evan crawled into the backseat beside Cree, who sat patiently with his legs crossed. “Done?” Cree asked. In so many ways, Evan agreed silently. For Cree, he nodded abruptly. Resting his head back, Evan closed his eyes. He’d been here a week, but he was no closer to finding the answers to his questions. God, it was enough to make his head throb. Or that could have just been the vibration of his skull as his head dropped against the window. Cree sat silently and Evan felt the inevitable pull into sleep, numbing his ears to nothing more than the rhythm of his own breathing. What seemed like moments later, a large warm hand curled over his forearm. “Walker. We’re home.” Evan turned toward the low, husky voice. He smiled and opened his eyes. Cree leaned over, his clear blue eyes shocking in their vibrancy. Evan startled. Amusement flitted over Cree’s face and his lips twisted into a secretive smile. He sat back, caught the door latch on his side and scooted toward the opening. “Your lips pucker in your sleep,” Cree told him right before he exited. Evan’s face burned. They did? He hurried from the car and stood at the trunk. “Driver, see that the boxes are put inside the house. I don’t want sleeping beauty there to work too hard.” Cree casually 8

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climbed the front steps. Evan frowned at his back. “Cree,” he called. Cree paused at the top step. He turned, looking expectedly back at him with his eyebrows lifted. “There isn’t a day I don’t bust my ass to make sure your life runs smoothly.” Evan hoisted the totes over his shoulders and grabbed the stacked boxes from the driver’s hands. “If my best isn’t good enough, then let me know, so I can stop wasting my time.” Cree’s smile widened. “That’s the spirit.” He took the steps in two loping strides and disappeared inside. “What the fuck was that?” Evan snapped. The driver shrugged. “You got everything?” “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” The driver pulled away as Evan faced the steps. What did Cree mean by that’s the spirit? What kind of asshole said shit like that when he was getting the riot act from an employee? Evan got a grip on his temper and trudged the collection of electronics back to the office he’d been given. The entire lower wing was his, technically. He’d thought it strange, at first, that Cree wanted his employee living in house with him. Then he realized just how often Cree called on him to do stuff that wouldn’t fall inside normal business hours. Evan might not have to pay rent, but the tradeoff was payment made. Cree knocked on the smoky glass of the office door. “I’m going to need you to run lines with me.” Well, that’s something new. “Any scene in particular?” “Yeah. All of them.” It was late. They’d been at the set all day. Evan really wanted a shower, a big fluffy robe, and the silence of his bedroom. He didn’t 9

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even feel like checking the personal messages from home. He knew his mom wasn’t happy he’d come to Hollywood. But he’d come, and he’d stay, until he’d done what he’d needed to do. “When?” Evan asked. “Five minutes.” Cree pushed away from the doorframe he’d been leaning on. “I need a shower, about thirty minutes to decompress, and some dinner.” Cree lifted his brows at him. It was the same oh, really look he’d been given on the steps when Evan snapped at him. “Talking back is becoming something of a habit for you,” he noted. “Please?” “I’ll call for Indian food. That’ll give you about forty-five minutes. Enough?” Evan nodded. Cree left. Working for the famous Cree Radek was challenging already, but with exchanges like that one, and the long hours he kept, it felt more like ten years. He’d never met anyone back home who had behaved like such a dick before. Cree Radek wasn’t normal though. He was Hollywood royalty. He was sexy and talented and had those great lips. Evan was annoyed with himself. Those great lips said a lot of irritating shit, too. If ever there were a case for a man to be more than his looks, it was Cree. He looked like a dark angel. He behaved like a spoiled, sullen, little brat. Damn that Evan kind of liked it. Moving down the short hallway to Evan’s expansive suite, he calculated just how long it would take him to finish up in California. He needed more money, money he was earning every day he stayed here as an assistant. Besides, working for Cree gave him the access to rub elbows with Hollywood, and that was 10

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definitely part of the plan. Grudgingly, he admitted that even being dragged to the set every day would help him reach his goal. And once he had his in, once he’d found that deadbeat, family-deserting man who’d spawned him, all bets were off.

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CHAPTER 2 Cree paced the white marble great room. His bare feet chilled against the cool surface and he glanced again down the hall where Evan lived. If he didn’t appear soon, the delivery guy would be here with dinner and Cree would have to go out and get the food himself. He scrubbed a shaking hand over his face. He didn’t know what bothered him more. That he had a sexy, unapproachable assistant currently naked and soaking wet about a hundred yards away, or that he’d have to face the possibility of paparazzi shooting pictures of him collecting his dinner. Did that shit actually sell magazines? Anxiety tightened a fist in his chest. They were a menace. Always in his business. Always looking for a story that didn’t exist. Always trying to follow him 12

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such that driving had become too dangerous. They were the reason he employed a driver. Cree took a breath, ready to call out for dependable, capable Evan, but Evan beat him to it. His bedroom door opened and he stepped out. Cree immediately felt himself calm. The other man’s hair had been rubbed semi-dry into spikes. He looked freshly scrubbed. His lean hips and long legs were covered in the most worn pair of gray sweatpants Cree had ever seen. They molded his thighs perfectly and looked incredibly soft to the touch. His faded gray Ball State T-shirt, having lost its form years ago, draped thinly over his chest and tight abdomen. Bare feet lightly slapped the floor as he approached Cree. It took all his willpower not to wrap his arms around Evan and hold him close, breathing in his scent, feeling his comfortable warmth, and hoping he could talk his new assistant right into his bedroom. The chime saved him. “Dinner’s here. There’s cash on the front table. Bring dinner into the living room.” “Indian curry in a room loaded with white furniture?” Evan questioned. “Are you planning on spilling?” Cree walked to the bank of windows overlooking Malibu Beach. Watching Evan walk away from him and getting a vivid look at his tight ass and surprisingly wide shoulders, was too much temptation. You didn’t fuck your assistant in Hollywood. White collar types in bread-basket America could get away with it, but in Hollywood everyone knew your business before you did. A few minutes later the front door closed and Evan’s bare feet padded over the marble into the living room. Cree waited for the crinkle of plastic to stop, hearing the distinctive sounds of containers being lifted from the rattling bag and placed on the glass 13

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coffee table. It sounded like Evan wadded up the bags and his steps faded off to the right behind him. Cree refocused on the reflection of his house in the large windows. Evan came back holding two soda cans in one hand and a compliment of plates, cutlery, and napkins in the other. Cree smiled. It had taken his last assistant three months to know what he’d want to drink, or to intuit that he’d want one. It had taken Evan only two hours. Cree watched him approach, set down the plates and one of the drinks. He popped the top on the second one and moved to stand patiently behind Cree. Their gazes met in the reflection. Neither man flinched. “I picked up another copy of the script for you today. Make whatever notes in it that you need.” Cree turned, took his drink, and walked to the couch where he instead sat on the floor in front of the table. Evan followed, sitting on the floor beside him. “We’re going over the scene where Johnny is about to ask Pippa on a date, but Pippa starts gushing about Eric.” Evan scooped yellow rice onto his plate, then covered it with chicken tikka marsala. He pulled free a piece of naan. He licked his fingers and held the container of bread to Evan. Evan handed him a napkin, then served himself, too. He passed silverware to Cree just as Cree scanned the tabletop to find it. Perfect synch. It made him smile. “Page?” Evan asked. “Forty-three. Use inflection when you deliver the lines.” The men silently flipped to the correct spot, sneaking in a mouthful of food. 14

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Cree put the script aside and jumped right in. “Pippa, we’ve been friends for a while now.” “Oh. You started already.” Evan scanned the page, his finger tracing the lines until he found it. “Pippa, we’ve been friends for a while now,” Cree began again. “Are you kidding? Since the womb, practically.” “We pretty much tell each other everything. All our secrets. Things we don’t tell other people…” “This is about Eric isn’t it?” Evan-Pippa announced uncomfortably. “Not really.” “Because I was going to tell you, I swear. It’s just that he finally asked me out! Can you believe it? I’ve been working for the man for eight years and now, now he sees me? Pippa gives a girlie squeal,” Evan intoned. “You could just squeal instead of reading the stage directions,” Cree said. “I don’t squeal.” Cree snorted his soda. It burned and he grabbed a napkin to hold over his face. His eyes watered and he started coughing. “You going to live?” Evan asked, roughly slapping Cree’s back. Cree tried to answer but he couldn’t catch his breath to say more than, “Burns.” “I bet. Hot Indian curry and carbonated beverage were never meant for inhalation.” Cree laughed between coughs. He dragged a piece of naan through the Kashmiri sauce and pushed the morsel into Evan’s mouth to shut him up. Evan’s lips closed around Cree’s finger tips. The barest flicker of tongue swept the underside of his pointer 15

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finger. Cree’s mouth dried up on the spot. He pulled his fingers free and wiped them on his napkin as he purposefully redirected attention to the script. Then taking another drink, he found the next line. “Johnny’s face falls, and he pauses for a moment before he says, ‘Eric, huh?’” “Or you could act the stage directions instead of reading them,” Evan teased, throwing Cree’s words back at him. Cree felt his face heat in a rare blush. “Place finding,” he explained hurriedly. “Ri-iight.” *

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Had that been a moment, Evan wondered? It was hard to tell. It passed so quickly. What was he thinking? Cree Radek didn’t give moments to mere mortals. And why should he? Evan worked for him. They were just running lines and, in all fairness, Evan had been the one to forget that arrangement. He’d been the one trying to tease Cree with some tongue play. It was good he’d pulled his fingers out when he had. Curry, and he suspected any food, tasted better when licked off Cree. If he’d delayed even a second longer, Evan would have given into temptation and sucked those digits. A finger blow. God, he’d almost slipped up. He couldn’t lose this job. Not yet. Not when he was so close to finding his scumbag father. He needed Cree and his connections. He couldn’t blow this, or Cree, for that matter. Evan’s full cock was becoming uncomfortable. In his old 16

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sweats, it wouldn’t take much for Cree to notice the inappropriate bulge going on. Evan shifted carefully, placing the script over his lap to lay open while they ate and ran lines. It seemed like a natural placement. Maybe Cree wouldn’t notice. They worked for another two hours, finally calling it quits around midnight. “Let’s hit the sack,” Cree announced, his voice rasping with the same fatigue Evan felt. “We’re leaving for the set at five.” “In the morning?” Evan asked stupidly. Cree cracked a smile, stretching those perfect lips over equally perfect teeth. They had to have been whitened. No one had a smile that bright. He found himself staring at Cree’s mouth wishing it would come just a little closer. “Run lines with me while I’m in makeup tomorrow.” “At five in the morning,” Evan stated rather than asked. Cree looked at him, humor still dancing in his eyes as he tipped his head to the side slightly. “And wear your hair like that.” “At five in the morning?” “You can say it as many times as you want. It doesn’t suddenly mean something different.” Evan struggled to his feet. “Actors are insane,” he muttered. He looked down at the dinner mess. Cree rose beside him. “Leave it. The maid will take care of it tomorrow.” “That’s kind of gross isn’t it?” “No. We ate it all. Now we have about four hours to sleep before we’re up doing today over again. That’s why I hire maid service to take care of stuff like this. I hired you to take care of me. That doesn’t include windows and dishes. So take care of me. Be ready at five tomorrow.” 17

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Cree strolled his loose hipped gait to the open-sided staircase that led to his room. “Oh and, Walker?” “Yeah?” “We’ll be having days like this for the next three months. Maybe even eight months if we keep the same pace on location.” Cree was the king of throwing statements over his shoulder and not waiting to see if there was fallout. Evan groaned under his breath. Lord help him. Enough days like this and he’d be too tired to keep himself in check around Cree. Evan needed to step up his search, because the moment he made the mistake of coming on to Cree in earnest, he’d be fired and there would be no money to support his search in Hollywood. *

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A week later, Evan’s phone buzzed. He looked down at it expecting to see his mother’s number. Instead, it was the number of a gripper who’d worked on set with his dad a year ago. Hurriedly, he took the call. “Evan Walker,” he answered. “Hi. Are you the guy who called about David Fowler?” Cree stepped into the trailer. The pit of Evan’s stomach dropped sickeningly. He didn’t want to take this call with Cree hanging around, but hanging up on this guy after finally tracking down someone who’d worked with Evan’s dad wasn’t something he could bring himself to do either. “Yeah, that’s me,” he answered vaguely. “Well, my buddy told me I should call you back. He says you work for Cree Radek.” “I do, does that matter?” 18

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“’Course it does. Cree Radek doesn’t hire idiots.” “Good to know.” Evan caught the curious glances from his boss. He turned his back, using Cree’s tote as an excuse to break eye contact. He dug out a bottle of water and tossed it to Cree. Cree caught it easily. “Who’s that?” “Just someone.” “Usually. Unless you’ve taken to talking to dead air,” Cree joked. “So, can what can you tell me?” Evan asked the man on the phone. “I worked with him. He got into some trouble on set, though. Always had a flask on him, if you know what I mean.” “Walker, when you’re done?” Cree asked dryly. Evan nodded at him. “I just need a minute,” he whispered. To the man on the phone, he murmured acknowledgment. “I know what you mean.” “So,” and Evan could almost hear the shrug in his voice, “he was escorted off the set about halfway through filming. That’s it.” “Do you know where to find him?” “He turns up. You want me to give him this number if I see him?” “No, but call me and let me know where to go,” Evan said. The guy laughed. “That’s a loaded one, ain’t it?” Evan laughed, too, although the joke didn’t strike him as funny. He’d already been in hell. So had his family, because of the asshole who’d impregnated an underage girl and left her to raise a son alone. There’d be retribution and even if the State of California couldn’t find him to force him into back child support, Evan owed it to his mother to make sure he did. She’d deserved so much better than she’d gotten. 19

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“If you know anyone else that can tell me anything, pass my number along,” Evan told him. “I’ll do that.” There was a pause. “Mr. Walker, I’m always looking for side work. If you hear that a company needs to hire a gripper, or a camera man ’cause I do both, do me a solid.” “I’ll look today,” Evan agreed. “Thanks, man.” Evan disconnected and slipped his phone in his pocket. “Do we need to run lines again?” “What was that about?” Cree asked. “Personal business.” “Sounds like you’re looking for somebody.” How much should Evan tell him? Over the past week, he’d discovered that Cree disguised a lot of his thoughts with silence. But if he listened closely to the questions Cree asked, or the things he did, it told him more than a heartfelt confession ever would. Like now. If he took that question at face value, which it could be, Cree was being nosy and perhaps a little territorial about Evan using business hours for personal phone calls. But it didn’t have that feeling behind it. Instead of answering Evan’s business directed question about returning to lines, Cree had deliberately refocused on Evan. And that told him that Cree saw a little too well how the phone call affected Evan. Cree was showing concern. Or at least he thought Cree was. It wasn’t an exact science, but he did seem to read Cree better now than when he’d first been hired. “You can tell me, Evan. I could help you.” Evan’s ears rushed. In the two weeks he’d worked side-by-side with Cree, he’d never called him anything but Walker. Evan had 20

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followed his lead, only calling Cree “Mr. Radek.” He liked the way Cree’s lips formed his name, the flash of white teeth pressing Cree’s bottom lip before sliding out of view. “What makes you think I need help?” Evan asked, fixated on Cree’s mouth to see if he’d use his name again. “I know you get calls. That’s the first one you didn’t end the minute I walked in the room. That call was important.” Looked like Cree had learned a few things about Evan when he wasn’t looking. Cree closed the distance between them. Evan felt suddenly naked. Not only did Cree look at him like he could see inside Evan’s head, but Evan had nothing to occupy his hands. Nothing he could pretend was more interesting than the man closing the distance between them. “Maybe,” Evan said, hoping that would satisfy Cree’s curiosity and put them back on track for work. Anything to keep Cree from getting close enough to see how badly Evan wanted to kiss that gorgeous mouth and say stupid things about how pretty his eyes are. “Maybe you’ll let me help, or maybe you’ll tell me who you’re looking for?” Cree asked. “I have connections.” He knew Cree had connections. While he’d needed the job to pay for the search and living expenses, and to get access to the movers and shakers in Hollywood, he hadn’t been angling to take advantage of star-power. “Just maybe,” Evan said. It was possibly the dumbest thing he could have answered, because it inadvertently issued a challenge to Cree to uncover the secret. Evan should have just told him, but he’d been harboring this mission, of sorts, for long enough that the outcome really mattered to him. Like a dog with a bone, he wasn’t ready to share 21

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it. It was his burden, his fight, his pain, his life. None of those things involved Cree Radek. Cree stopped a foot from Evan. It was too close. God, just way too close. He cocked his head, and hands on his hips, he simply stared at Evan. Close in height, Evan couldn’t even use that as an excuse to look anywhere else. Besides, with Cree in front of him, why would he want to look anywhere else? “I’d help you,” Cree said finally. “I know.” Cree nodded slowly. “When you’re ready to ask, the offer stands.” “What other offer will stand?” Evan could have smacked himself. Cree’s brows did the trademark lift. “What are you asking?” “Nothing,” Evan choked out nervously.

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CHAPTER 3 Cree studied Evan’s usually flat expression. The call had shaken Evan. Cree felt a little disappointment that after working together and getting to know each other, Evan still wouldn’t open up. There were so many things he kept hidden under that stony mask. Evan’s expressions rarely faltered. Only a few times, when Cree had deliberately set out to rile him, had Evan’s facade slipped. He thought he’d seen other moments, when fatigue weakened his guard, but they’d been fleeting. Cree was ready to crack. He’d thought Evan was hot, but thank God Evan had never fully relaxed. Cree’s resolve to keep him at arm’s length would have buckled. But as he looked into Evan’s eyes now, he didn’t dare back 23

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away. In the span of ten minutes he’d seen more real emotion play through those deep brown eyes than he’d seen in two weeks. It was like a drug holding him intoxicated. A window into Evan’s soul he rarely showed. Cree wanted to absorb it all before Evan tucked it away into hiding again. “Not nothing,” Cree countered, hoping he read Evan’s expression correctly. “No, it is. It’s nothing,” Evan rushed flippantly. He took a step to the side. Cree caught Evan’s upper arm, holding him still. Both their gazes went to Cree’s hand. He’d never touched Evan before, and Evan seemed just as surprised as Cree was. “Ask me anything you want,” Cree encouraged. Evan laughed in a short, quiet burst. “I don’t think so. I like my job.” Cree had been looking for signals from Evan, almost fearfully. He’d been watching to see if Evan would be receptive and nervous about the answer either way. Evan was normal. He had a normal life, if a somewhat abnormal job. Cree felt some responsibility in protecting it. Cree was judicious about the people he kept near him. He liked Evan probably more than he should. But Evan was good people. Cree didn’t want to corrupt him with the limelight that seemed to invade everything in Hollywood. So far it hadn’t, but if Evan were receptive to dating Cree, it would. Still, Cree had to know. Was there a chance that Evan might feel something normal and whole for Cree? Cree picked his words carefully, watching Evan closely for how they were received. “Did you want to expand your duties?” A flutter of a smile touched Evan’s lips. “You mean I don’t 24

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already do it all?” “You do,” Cree acknowledged grudgingly. “Are you asking to fill my social calendar?” Evan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I already schedule your social calendar. You have a party coming up tomorrow night.” “You’ll be there with me,” Cree said. “Okay.” Cree sighed, exasperated. He wasn’t getting his point across as all. Yet getting his point across clearly meant going against his instinct to protect Evan’s Hollywood innocence. Did he care? Yeah, he did. Did he still want to kiss Evan anyway? Fuck, yes. “Just ask me, Evan,” Cree insisted. Evan’s gaze fell on Cree’s lips. It was the only permission he needed. Cree stepped up, pulling Evan’s arm toward himself as he did so. Their chests bumped, and though it wasn’t hard enough to do anything, Evan exhaled sharply at the contact. “Good,” Cree murmured. “I was hoping you’d say that.” “I didn’t say anything.” “Yeah, you did.” Cree grinned. He leaned in, savoring the look of surprise on Evan’s face when their lips touched. Evan gave a low moan, and pulled away almost immediately, leaving Cree confused. “I—don’t want that,” Evan said not looking certain. Cree let him go. His stomach flipped even though they’d barely touched before Evan had turned him down. “I’m sorry.” Evan’s gaze darted away. “Don’t apologize. I read your signals wrong.” Cree tried to shrug it off but he did taste the bile of disappointment at the back of his tongue. “No, actually, you didn’t. It’s just not a good idea.” 25

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So Evan did want him, he just didn’t want to want him. Not confusing at all. Cree backed up, then turned on his heel to pick up his tote and water bottle. “You’re right.” “If the circumstances were different—” “I get it.” Cree cut him off. “I have to hit the set. Work out whatever you need to. My offer to help, holds.” “Thanks, Mr. Radek.” Cree felt his mouth twist oddly at the sound of his last name. That bitterness he tasted only seemed sharper. “Forget it.” *

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Evan was still kicking himself for not kissing Cree as the day wore down. His thoughts kept returning to that moment. He could have at least gotten into it before calling it off. The feel of Cree’s mouth barely brushing over his before Evan freaked out wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d fucked up. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, only Evan really wanted to do. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have. Then he’d have regretted it later, which at this moment, Evan was okay with. Any additional time on those lips would have been worth the self-recrimination later. His phone rang. The number didn’t register a contact he knew, but he took the call anyway. “Mr. Walker, I’m Pete Givens from Givens Private Investigators. Mr. Radek hired me to be of service to you. He says you need to find someone?” Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. It was really hard to make yourself objectify someone who believed in random acts of kindness. “Does Mr. Radek have access to any information you 26

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find for me?” “He would, except he specifically declined. He told me to call you, take care of whatever you needed, and bill him.” “Wow.” “Mr. Radek—he’s a good guy.” “Yeah, he really is,” Evan agreed. “So, who’re you lookin’ for and where was he last seen?” “Uh, I’m looking for David Fowler. My father.” “What can you tell me?” “He left Huntington, Indiana twenty-eight years ago and landed in Hollywood.” Evan completed the portion of his father’s profile that he knew, including the recent information he’d gleaned earlier that day from the gripper. “That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.” “It’ll be enough to get started. I’ll call you in a few days. If you find out anything more, call me so I can follow up on the lead.” He thanked Pete and continued staring at his phone long after they’d hung up. It was a damn good thing Cree wasn’t in the trailer with him now, because Evan would have forgotten every reservation and tackled the man to the floor. Except Evan wasn’t that lucky. Cree shut the trailer door behind him. “Hey, you ready to head home?” “Yeah,” Evan said roughly. “You look funny.” Evan grinned. He held up his phone. “Thank you.” “What for?” “Pete Givens.” Cree snorted. “Sure.” He motioned for Evan to grab his laptop and waited by the door with his hand on the light switch. “So, are you going to be up for line running tonight?” “Sure,” he said mimicking Cree. 27

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Cree tugged on a couple of strategic hair spikes, possibly straightening them. “Good, We’re jumping order to shoot the final scene tomorrow, while were still in the studio. I wouldn’t want to crowd your comfort zone.” “Why would it?” Evan asked walking over. “It’s the romantic resolution.” “Ah,” Evan murmured. “So there’s, like, kissing and stuff in it.” “I just need the lines. I can handle the kissing.” Evan dropped his bag. He slid a hand behind Cree’s neck and tugged him closer. Evan lifted his chin, fitting their mouths neatly together. He felt the floor shake as Cree’s tote hit the floor, too. Cree’s mouth was made for kissing, Evan decided. It smoothed across his own, and when Evan tested the barrier with the tip of his tongue, Cree opened readily, a soft sound humming at the back of his throat. Evan curled his other arm around Cree’s waist. Their hips and chests bumped together as Cree held him close. Cree tasted like mint and clove, those dumb fake cigarettes he had to smoke for the role, but on Cree it was exotic and sexy as hell. The kiss broke and Evan bent to retrieve their bags, holding Cree’s up for him. Cree’s lips were puffy and moist, and tipped in a quizzical smile. “Thanks,” he said, taking the bag. “Mind if I make dinner tonight?” Evan asked. Cree held the trailer door open for him to pass. “You cook, too?” “I do when I’m nervous.” Cree chuckled. “After that kiss, I’m the one who should be nervous.” 28

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Evan’s gaze fell on Cree’s lips, then traveled up to his bright blue eyes, now shaded with evening darkness. “You haven’t been nervous a day in your life.” *

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Cree hoisted himself up on the kitchen’s center island. He hooked his hands over the edge and watched Evan search his kitchen for different ingredients. Occasionally, he told him where to find things, but only when he actually knew where they were. Cree wasn’t a cooker outside of the microwave and specially catered frozen dinners. “Wow, your kitchen kind of sucks,” Evan said after a few minutes. “You have next to no spices, and besides the colorful array of pasta, you don’t have any real food.” “I’ll call for dinner. We’ll shop tomorrow.” “No,” Evan said waving his words off. “I’m determined. You have Earl Grey tea. I can use that with these frozen chicken breasts. And I’ll figure something out with the pasta. How is it that you don’t own any form of garlic?” “I kiss a lot on set. Garlic breath isn’t appreciated.” Evan snorted. “Use a toothbrush and mouthwash. I guarantee you she isn’t being as considerate and I bet you’ve never noticed.” “Selene Laramie is notorious for bad breath,” Cree countered. “Does she know it’s bad or doesn’t she care?” “None of the actors I know are brave enough to tell her. Even tried going through her agent, but her agent is too afraid of her fits.” Evan wrinkled his nose. Cree liked the boyish look on him. Cree liked a lot about the way Evan looked. He slid off the 29

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countertop. “Need any help?” Cree asked. Evan smiled. “The whole point of me cooking is to impress you and work off some excess nerves. Having you work beside me defeats the purpose.” Cree couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m already impressed with you, and there are a lot more creative ways to work off excess nerves.” “Do you know you do that eyebrow thing?” Evan asked suddenly. “What eyebrow thing?” “The one that says you know you’re hot and you know that the person looking at you wants to pounce?” Cree laughed. The bold-faced honesty wasn’t something he heard a lot of in Hollywood. Hurray for Midwestern men. He grabbed Evan’s shoulders and drew him against his body. Evan’s arms circled his waist. “Is that a yes?” Evan pressed. “I had no idea.” Evan looked over his shoulder at the odd collection of dried foods and frozen chicken breasts on the countertop. “Fuck cooking. I’ve got another appetite I need taken care of.” “Mister—” “Evan, if you finish that statement, I’ll have to fire you. Mr. Radek doesn’t fuck employees.” “But Cree Radek wants me in his bed.” Evan finished for him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I want you in my bed.” Cree let him go to take his hand. Evan followed easily as they climbed the steps to the upper level. Cree hadn’t let anyone up here since he’d broken up with that starlet last year. She’d been using 30

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him to get ahead. He should have known from the calculating glint in her eye. Evan didn’t have that glint. Cree’s chest felt tight and his mouth seemed uncommonly dry. Evan did that to him. He made Cree strangely giddy and a bit terrified, if he was being honest with himself. Evan was real. A real man giving his love had nothing to do with getting ahead in Hollywood, especially when that man didn’t even like being on set. An easy smile came to him as he looked at Evan’s back. Evan’s head tipped up, taking in the massive scope of the room before letting out a low whistle. “This place is amazing,” Evan said. “I’m more interested in the man.” Evan turned, a sexy grin on his face. It did things to Cree’s pulse, and suddenly he wasn’t so scared of letting his guard down. Evan was just Evan. He wasn’t paparazzi. He wasn’t a grubby agent. He wasn’t an actor trying to fuck him into blackmail. Cree pulled his black T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. Taking hold of his leather and silver studded belt, he loosened the closure and flipped open the top snap as he walked to Evan. Evan’s gaze raked over Cree. Cree liked the way Evan looked at him. He liked it a lot, and he held still for a moment, feeling his gaze like a forbidden caress. Evan unbuttoned his oxford shirt. It amused Cree to see his white undershirt. It was just another reminder of how different their worlds were. The differences made their connection that much more important. They crossed barriers to be together, and Cree felt distinctly like he was opening a package to the rest of his life. The possibility of a relationship with Evan actually seemed realistic, where before, Evan was way out of his league. “Wait,” Cree said. “Let me.” 31

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Cree fisted the undershirt and carefully lifted it off and over. Evan’s shy, boyish grin needed a kiss and Cree wasn’t inclined to deny him. He hooked his fingers in the front of Evan’s jeans and dragged him toward him. “Bottom or top?” Cree asked. “Your sweet talking needs work.” “Top it is.” This close, their noses lining each other, hiding his vulnerability was impossible. He hoped Evan didn’t notice too much, or if he did, that he didn’t comment. Cree’s reputation was built on his tough appearance and inapproachability. He needed it. It was his armor. Yet standing in front of Evan, their chests touching as they swayed together, Evan had found a chink Cree hadn’t known existed. It wouldn’t take much for Evan to peel back the layers and see just how much Cree needed to be seen by a man like Evan, someone who wasn’t anything but what he appeared to be. Evan kissed him first, taking his time to meld their lips together in slick heaven. The soft catch and release was addictive, and Cree closed his eyes to live in that moment. Evan stroked his arms, cupped his ribs and trailed over the ridges there. It tickled in a way that wasn’t the least bit funny. Cree’s cock pressed insistently against his fly. The soothing caress of Evan’s hands on his sides and chest, the seductive softness of their mouths marrying, weakened Cree’s knees. He moaned into Evan’s mouth and began his own exploration, stroking Evan’s chest, sweeping the backs of his fingers on his lower abdomen. He couldn’t seem to stop touching him. Evan speared Cree’s hair, grabbing hold of the spikes at the back. Then with a small nip, Evan punished Cree’s bottom lip until 32

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he gasped, parting his mouth for a new, deeper onslaught. Evan held him still. His scalp pinched, but the roughness excited him, reminded him all over again that Evan was different. Evan played for real, and Cree felt insanely grateful for it. Evan suckled his tongue, then plunged back in as though he wanted to crawl inside Cree’s mouth. Evan ended the searing kiss. He stared into Cree’s eyes for a moment, drowning Cree in a sea of warm chocolate and stark desire. “I’m not a guy who goes straight for the cock, typically,” Evan began huskily. “Do you mind if I make an exception?” Cree shook his head dumbly. Evan dropped to his knees. He looked up at Cree beneath his lashes while he finished loosening Cree’s pants and dragged them to mid-thigh. “Even your cock is gorgeous,” Evan murmured appreciatively. He passed reverential fingertips along his length before tracing the cock-rim. Then he smoothed the bead of pre-cum over the sensitive head. Cree swayed. Evan cupped Cree’s balls, seeming to test their weight. “Hairless,” Evan stated. Cree stroked the top of Evan’s head, wordlessly thankful for the evident admiration on Evan’s face. His stomach flipped and he found himself holding his breath to see what Evan did next. He didn’t have to wait long. Evan pressed his lips to Cree’s engorged tip. He parted and Cree felt the wild flicker of wet tongue dancing over him. He shuddered, gripped Evan’s head in both hands, and prayed he wouldn’t embarrass himself by buckling at the knees. When Evan moved to caress the back of Cree’s legs, tease the crease between the top of his thighs and his ass, then firmly cupped 33

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the globes, Cree realized that whatever happened, he was a goner. He only wanted Evan, his tender lover, the surprising find beneath the assistant’s formal veneer. Had there ever been another man as perfect as Evan? “Cree,” Evan called to him. “Look at me.” The command was softly spoken, but its gentleness came from need Cree couldn’t deny because it mirrored his own. Cree opened his eyes, staring down into Evan’s, and Evan squeezed his ass and drew Cree into his mouth. “What are you doing to me, Evan?” Cree’s question didn’t need an answer. He heard it in the muffled dreamy quality of a man distracted and intoxicated by what was happening. Evan’s tongue cradled the underside of Cree’s cock as he sank on it. Pulling off, Evan’s cheeks hollowed. The pressure was exquisite and Cree could no more stop from groaning than he could make the world stop spinning. There was nothing but Evan’s eyes and Evan’s mouth holding Cree in place. Evan worked over him, drawing the tenuous line of sanity and mindlessness taut, coiling it tighter and tighter until Cree’s balls tingled. His ass clenched as he held on, but once Evan began working the base of Cree’s dick while sucking on the head, Cree exploded into an orgasmic race that had no brakes. Evan pumped and sucked relentlessly. His gaze clouded over, but continued to hold Cree’s. Cree tried to hold himself steady, but Evan’s mouth beckoned with hot acceptance. Gripping Evan’s head, Cree flexed into each pull, and suddenly the line frayed and Cree’s hips moved on their own, fucking Evan’s luscious mouth. When the humming started, vibrated through his cock, whatever self-control Cree thought he still had, fractured. It was the sudden push of a finger in his ass that took Cree crashing into 34

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orgasm. He shouted, riding the wave as hot cum sprayed thickly down Evan’s throat. Evan took it, swallowing, hummed his approval until Cree’s final spasms left him spent. Evan pulled off his cock. He smiled up at Cree as he took a thumb and casually rubbed the moisture from the corners of his lips. “You’re a yeller,” Evan teased. “For a guy who doesn’t talk much, you sure make a lot of noise coming.” Cree was still breathing like he’d run a race. He needed Evan inside him. He just hoped Evan wasn’t going to make him wait too long. He pulled off his pants to get the point across. “Get in bed,” Cree commanded. Cree turned toward the bathroom to get the condoms and lube. Evan hauled him backward against his jean-clad arousal. “Don’t make me wait too long, Cree.” As though to make his point stick, he slipped two fingers between Cree’s ass cheeks to tease his hole.

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CHAPTER 4 Evan watched the finely pampered ass walk away from him. There was something to be said for hard muscle and soft skin pampered by spa treatments. His hands had glided over Cree, kind of like the way his cock had glided like silk between Evan’s lips. There would definitely need to be a replay. He shucked his clothes and climbed onto the bed. Should he push the sheets down? He decided not to, since loose sheets always seemed to get trapped between slick bodies. He didn’t want any interruptions when he finally entered Cree. God, he could hardly believe he was going to. Hell, he could hardly believe Cree had let him suck him off. Hollywood royalty and Evan had been permitted to polish his wood. As he thought the words, his mind balked. It had been so much 36

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more than getting off. His smile faltered. When this thing was over, and Evan was sure it would end soon, it would be better to pretend fucking hadn’t been so much fun with Cree. They didn’t have a future anyway. Not really. How could he have a lasting relationship with an actor? Who’d want to risk that? There was only now and making their sexual encounters as fantastic as possible, because that’s all they had. When David Fowler was located and Evan found a lawyer to slap a subpoena on him, Evan was heading back to Indiana. He had loose ends to tie up and a mother to make sure never needed to work another day in her life. Evan wouldn’t let her unless she wanted to. She’d held three jobs and missed out of college because of David. She deserved to take the rest of her life easy, and Evan was going to see to it. Cree came back with a bottle of lube and several condoms. He dropped all but one condom and the lube on the nightstand and brought the others to the bed. Evan grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him down. His tug knocked Cree off balance, and instead of hitting the bed, Cree sprawled on top of Evan. He wrapped Cree close, daring to be familiar with the man who’d been nothing but his boss until tonight. Grab life by the horns. Grab Cree by the cock. Live for the moment. Evan smiled at him. “I love your eyes.” “I love your smile. You scowl too much.” “I’ll stop scowling,” Evan promised. “If you begin every day with a kiss.” “What will you do if I begin every day with a fuck?” Cree asked. “Pretty much anything you want.” “You do that now.” 37

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“Yeah, but I’ll get to see your come face and that’ll just make me want to keep you happy so I can jump your ass at the next available moment,” Evan reasoned. “Speaking of my ass.” Cree reached between them to fondle Evan’s shaft. Evan nipped his shoulder. “Tease.” “You have hair,” Cree breathed. He moved down Evan’s body, drawing first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth. Evan bit his lip to keep from moaning. He was almost afraid to move or make noise in case Cree stopped. Cree had gotten off, after all. It wasn’t like he had to let Evan fuck him. That he seemed to want it, definitely filled Evan’s cock to capacity. Cree kissed his way down, nuzzling Evan’s balls when he got there. “Cree?” Cree dragged the flat of his tongue over Evan’s sac. “Are you one of those guys who thinks that gay sex is jacking each other off, or taking turns cock sucking?” Cree pushed up, his brows lifted. “Cut it out.” “What?” Cree asked. “The eyebrow thing. Quit it and come back up here,” Evan told him. “Do I have to? I was just getting to know this gorgeous slab of beef down here.” Evan chuckled. “Shake hands later. Hell, give it a kiss of brotherhood later. Right now, I want to fuck your ass before you change your mind.” Cree’s expression grew serious. He climbed up Evan, hovering 38

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over him when he stopped. “I’m not going to change my mind.” Evan wrapped his legs around Cree’s hips and flipped him. It wasn’t a sexy flip, but it got the job done. He saw the amusement in Cree’s eyes, and dived in to kiss it away. He wanted Cree’s eyes filled with need, not laughter. He needed to carry the look in his memories for the day they walked away from each other. “Ready?” Evan asked. Nudging Cree’s legs apart, Evan knelt between his thighs. He groped for the lube and readied the condom, which he put unwrapped on Cree’s belly. Then, still distracting him with kisses, Evan stroked his fingertips over Cree’s ass. By the time Cree was ready, his hips were pushing into Evan’s probing fingers. Evan pressed the condom covered tip of his cock to Cree’s ass. Cree bore down on him, and Evan sucked in sharply as furnace heat enveloped his head. Cree didn’t seem to want to slow down, so watching his face closely, Evan flexed his hips, sliding his cock home. Cree lifted a leg, and Evan hooked it over his shoulder. He did the same with the other leg, shuddering as his balls pressed exposed ass. “You feel so good,” Cree said on a moan. His black glam eyeliner had smudged, but it only served to make his sexy eyes smokier. And for some reason the smudging also made Evan feel like he’d undone Cree. That he’d broken the Hollywood image and seen the real man as who he was beneath the perfect look. God, it was hot. “I think you stole my line,” Evan protested. Cree laughed breathlessly. Evan moved in him. It was just as silky smooth as the rest of Cree’s body. He glided into Cree, felt every involuntary squeeze of his tight ring on Evan’s cock. Cree remembered Evan’s request to 39

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look at him, and their eyes locked, inches away between kisses. When Evan ground deep, he angled himself to hit Cree’s prostate. He was already hard again and Evan looked down between them to see the way the other man’s thickened cock vibrated on each thrust. “Are you close?” Evan asked him. “Yeah.” “Jack off for me.” Cree took himself in his hand and worked his cock. Evan pounded his ass as he looked on. He was close, too, but he wanted to see Cree shoot first. He needed to see Cree shoot. Cree’s grunts came in time with each tug to his cock. “Fuck, yeah. Do it, Cree. Let me see your load.” Cree’s eyes slitted, his neck arched, each tendon going tight as his mouth hung open in loud groaning pants. Evan pulled out and slammed in. “Do it. Show me your sweet cum while I’m in your ass,” Evan commanded. Cree’s head pressed into the pillow. With a sharp cry, cum sprayed thickly over Evan’s chest. It was exactly what Evan needed. Two more thrusts and he hissed as he filled the condom, his full attention on Cree’s parted, perfect lips. Evan gently shrugged off Cree’s legs. They hit the mattress hard and Cree laughed. It wasn’t often that Evan got to see him that relaxed and easy. It was a good look for him. Evan leaned down and kissed his neck. “I’m going to be sore for a week,” Cree mock-complained. “Or longer, depending on how long you want this to run.” Cree’s brows drew together slightly. “Meaning?” “Meaning, movie star Cree Radek just let his nobody assistant 40

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fuck him. How long before the paparazzi gets wind of this and denials get issued?” “I don’t share my personal life.” “Neither do I, but you’re a public figure.” Cree rolled away from him. Evan scrambled to hold onto the base of his condom. He sighed and went to the bathroom to clean up. The bright bathroom lighting, compounded by the skylight high overhead, made a stark contrast from the lush, dark tones of the bedroom. Evan turned on the tap and washed up. “I just mean that public figures aren’t always in control of the information that gets out there,” Evan said. Cree appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame on one hand. “There has to be a leak first. Are you planning on being a leak?” “No.” Evan’s exasperation sharpened his tone. He wetted a cranberry colored washcloth and handed it to Cree. Then he shook water droplets off his hands, turned off the faucet, and dried them on the thick matching towel. “Besides, if we have a thing going on, don’t you think people might notice after a while?” Evan added. “No, I don’t.” “Then what happens if I screw up? I’m not used to public scrutiny.” “But you’re a master at regulating your features. Regulate them in public,” Cree finished. He tossed the used washcloth on the countertop and walked back to the bedroom. Evan followed him. “Why am I the bad guy all the sudden?” Cree looked at him flatly. All the tenderness of mere minutes ago had vanished. “What? I’m being realistic.” 41

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“You’re being a dick,” Cree countered. He pulled a clean shirt from his dresser and put it on. Foregoing underwear, he dragged on his black jeans. Evan stalked to him. “You’re the one who’s fucking with my head.” Cree’s gaze dropped to Evan’s head. “At least give me some credit for understanding how things work.” “Please, share with the class,” Cree snapped. “I’m not expecting anything from you. Nothing. I’ve been here long enough to see the life you have to lead. Parties, women, men, contracts, long nights and quick mornings, shoots, publicity appearances, interviews—you name it, you have to do it.” “And?” “You don’t have to coddle me or worry about hurt feelings. I get it. You can’t commit, especially to someone who isn’t in the biz. Especially to someone who has no impact on your career. It sounds harsh, but we both know it’s true.” Evan folded his arms across his chest. “Put your clothes on.” “No. I’m talking right now.” “You’re saying a lot of bullshit is what you’re doing,” Cree argued. He faced off with Evan, hands on his hips. Like this, Cree’s smeared eyeliner made him look dangerous, not seductive. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed. “What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be happy about having convenient sex with someone who’s discreet, who won’t expect anything more from you than mutual satisfaction. What the fuck, Cree?” 42

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*

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Goddamn, Evan’s words hurt. They pierced him straight through the chest and festered. Evan expected so little of him. Everything he’d said was superficial. Did he really see Cree that way? Cree had been thinking of a possible relationship with Evan. He’d taken for granted that Evan’s nerves had been because he worried about the risk of investing in each other, too. But all Evan had been thinking was that he’d get to have a one-night stand with a movie star. Cree’s throat burned. He squeezed his waist to keep his hands from shaking. Humiliation burned behind his eyes. He’d been used. Just like everyone else in Hollywood. Fucked in one way or another by whomever came along to stick it to him. “Never mind,” Cree rasped. He looked away, making the mistake of looking at the rumpled bedcovers. He could still feel Evan. Every kiss. Every touch. Every moment of his desperate invasion. Had it been so heartless? Had Cree been the only one actually opening up his soul—for this? “I don’t want to never mind.” Evan took several steps closer. Cree stood his ground with difficulty. “You’ve had what you want. It’s my turn.” “Don’t be like that.” “What, honest? It’s more dignity than you’ve given me.” Concern veiled Evan’s eyes. “Please,” he pled. “Talk to me. What did I do that made you so upset?” It took a minute to unclench his jaw. He already felt like his chest was a gaping wound. What would a little salt and lemon juice be in opening up farther? “You underestimated me.” Evan’s expression encouraged him to continue. 43

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“I want you to expect more from me. From us. I want your feelings to hurt if you think you aren’t enough. Then I want you to talk to me about it so we can fix it. I want you to care if you think I’m looking at another guy. I want you to miss me when I’m not around, but not because you want to get your rocks off.” The admission took too much. Cree retrieved Evan’s clothes and tossed them at his chest. Evan caught them unconsciously. “You want a relationship?” Evan defined incredulously. “I wanted to try, Evan. You didn’t.” A thousand emotions flitted across Evan’s face. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t fix on what to start with. Finally the air rushed out of Evan’s lungs telling him the one thing Cree didn’t want to hear. “I can’t.” Evan’s unemotional work-mask fell into place. Cree’s lover was gone. His mind raced with a way to bring him back, words he could use to egg him into another fight. Anything to get him to look at Cree like he mattered, even if it was pity. “Why not?” was all Cree could manage around the lump in his throat. “Because I’m not stupid. I know how things work here and I know that even with the best of intentions, bad decisions are made that destroy people’s lives. I know that once you’re in Hollywood, your soul gets sucked out of you and no one matters but the person in the mirror.” “You think that about me?” Cree asked. Evan yanked on his jeans in barely controlled anger. His jaw set stubbornly, and as Cree asked his question, Evan’s eyes flicked up to him dismissively before he continued getting dressed. “Not yet, but I will. Then I’ll hate myself for giving in to a moment because some hot guy made me forget long enough to 44

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believe a flightless dream.” Cree closed his eyes on the pain. It wasn’t getting better, it was getting worse. This discussion made him hurt so much more than he’d already been. “Your faith in me is spectacularly low.” “Cree, you might be the best thing to enter my life. I’ve known you two weeks. They’ve been intense, but I don’t trust myself to say that it’s worth the risk of a long-term heartbreak.” “So you’re opting for short-term decimation.” “I’m suggesting casual sex with a guy I really want to be with, and hoping it’s enough for him, too.” Cree nodded, preferring it to words. Evan was dressed. “I need to think about it.” Evan reached for him. Cree jerked out of reach before he touched him. “You’d better go.” “Cree—” “No. Just leave.” Evan huffed, defeated most likely. “What about dinner?” “I’m not hungry.” “I’ll make some in case you change your mind,” Evan offered. “Shut the door on the way out.”

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CHAPTER 5 Evan had been walking on eggshells for the past five days. Cree kept things purely business. Running lines was done at the dining room table, nowhere close to touching. The dinner Evan had made did get eaten, but Cree had declined letting him cook since. Instead, it was an assortment of peanut butter sandwiches or random food deliveries. Evan went to the store and filled the pantry with spices and necessities. He also stocked the freezer. Except for fresh foods, which he’d have to pick up, next time Cree let him cook, he was going to make sure it was better than anything a restaurant would deliver. Mostly, he bided his time, waiting for Cree to say something personal. But it had been five days without any kind of 46

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encouragement. The movie production was flying everyone to a small Austrian town tomorrow for a scene meant to represent Montana. Evan didn’t know why the hell Austria did a better job representing Montana than Montana did. Regardless, he was packed and so was Cree. The office fax beeped. Evan walked over to it and pulled off the first page as it printed. It was a message from Pete. David Fowler had been located. Evan’s heart rate jumped to a gallop. He stared at the paper, his mind utterly blank, then immediately racing with questions. He’d done it. He’d found him. When finding his father was still theory, Evan had had plans. He’d known what he would do next. Now, he just stood there with plans crashing into each other, tangling with Cree and Austria and his mother. Two more pages printed off. Numbly, Evan picked them up. The first had a photograph, and while it was the face of a man he’d never met, tears welled in Evan’s eyes, because it was the face of a man he’d never met. Because now he had someone to associate with the pain, with his mother’s hard life, and with the devastation left behind from a man who wouldn’t care, who’d thoughtlessly turned his back on real people he was accountable to, for a dream. Judging by the second sheet, showing drunk and disorderlies and assorted other misdemeanors, that dream hadn’t panned out. He’d managed to dodge all attempts to find him for child support. Why? So he could throw those dollars at the nearest bartender? It made him sick to think of how much the smallest help would have eased his mother’s hard life. How if he’d stuck around and believed in the kid he’d help bring into the world, taken 47

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responsibility for the decisions he’d made early on, Evan wouldn’t be in this place now. “Fucking bastard,” Evan snarled. “Everything sown up for the trip?” Cree asked walking into the office. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just say yes, and let it go. He should have. He didn’t owe Cree more than solid administrative services, but the words wouldn’t come. Evan held the papers. Dumbly, he looked up, confused when Cree looked blurry until Evan blinked and realized there were tears. God, he so didn’t want to cry in front of Evan. He so didn’t want to fucking cry over a man who’d never given him a passing thought either. David Fowler didn’t fucking deserve an iota of emotion, damn him! “Shit. What’s wrong?” With a frustrated shout, Evan wadded the papers up and threw them down. He shoved the fax off its cart, and stormed out of the small room. Where were his plans? Where the fuck were his plans? What the hell did he do now? Blindly, he paced the huge living room before charging toward the wall of sliding windows. He needed air. He couldn’t breathe. Holy shit, he couldn’t fucking breath. Evan pounded his chest as though that would loosen the tight band around his ribs that kept him from drawing a full, deep breath. Stumbling into the brilliant afternoon light, he hit the porch railing and held on, gasping. “Evan.” Cree must have chased after him. Evan barely registered the chase except to recognize someone was behind him. Cree touched his shoulder and Evan shook his head. “No, it’s—no. I—I can’t breathe.” 48

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*

*

*

Cree pried one hand off the rail and partially turned him. He hauled back and slapped Evan across the face. Twice, when Evan could do no more than stare at him. “Go away,” Evan said brokenly. “Shut up.” Cree pulled Evan squirming into his arms. “Breathe slower. You’re about to pass out.” “I can’t.” “Then I’ll keep holding you until you come around,” Cree promised quietly. Evan clutched him, pulling at Cree’s shirt. Cree ran his hands over Evan’s back. Evan’s hot breath on his neck scared him. He’d never seen Evan like this. He’d never seen Evan freak out about anything, even when he told Cree that he didn’t expect anything from him and Cree had gotten angry. Cree murmured, his cheek pressed to Evan’s temple. He didn’t even think about the words he said, or whether they made sense, but they seemed to calm Evan. Evan’s breathing slowed. Cree continued to assure him and rock. He stroked the back of Evan’s hair, his shoulders, anything he could touch to offer comfort. Evan held on. Cree fell silent, still holding, still stroking. Evan let go of his death hold to hug Cree closer. “That’s right. I’m here. I’m staying right here as long as you need me,” Cree murmured. Evan suddenly pushed away, then grabbed Cree’s hand and dragged him inside to the couch. Evan slammed the flats of his hands on Cree’s shoulders and Cree stumbled backward, hitting the white leather cushions with a whoosh. 49

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Evan landed on his knees between Cree’s legs, and before Cree even realized what was happening, Evan had Cree’s pants down and was already working his chub into a full hard-on. “You don’t have to—” Cree’s words strangled to a stop as Evan swallowed his cock, tapering off whatever he was going to say into a long groan. He was a master. In five sucking sweeps of Cree’s shaft, he had to fight to keep from coming. But goddamnit, Evan’s dedicated pursuit of his cock, the hungry devotion he showed to every inch, the soft throat sounds of Evan eagerly taking him, made the effort sure to fail. Evan slid his hand under Cree’s shirt, easing it up his belly over his sternum, Cree’s pec, where he twisted and tormented a nipple. Cree shouted. He bucked, coming hard, shooting sharp jets down Evan’s throat. Evan sucked him clean. He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Leaving Cree’s cock to air dry, Evan started to turn away. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Cree snarled. He shrugged. “Wherever.” Adrenaline raced through Cree’s veins. “Not again, damnit!” Swinging a foot out, he knocked Evan’s feet out from under him. Evan crashed hard to the floor. Cree rushed to straddle him, then took a minute to close up his pants. Planting his hands on Evan’s chest, he looked him dead in the eyes. “No. I don’t actually think you’re an ass, so I’m not going to let you act like one,” Cree decided. “I think ass-iness is completely up to the ass being assy.” “Fuck you. And fuck you for thinking you can fuck me over and that I’ll take it. And then fuck you again for being all sensitive, 50

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needing me, and then blowing me like you still want me.” Evan looked up at him with reddened eyes from unshed tears. He looked tired, lost, confused. Cree’s heart melted a little, and it pissed him off. “I do still want you, Cree. I never stopped wanting you.” “Because putting a notch in your belt last week wasn’t enough? You walked out of my room.” “You kicked me out, or did you forget that part?” Evan snapped. “Did you try to stick around? No.” “I don’t play games. But, stupid me, I live in the real world. I forget how you Hollywood types are.” “You don’t play games? Are you for real? What the hell do you call sucking my dick and trying to walk away?” “Self-preservation,” Evan yelled. Cree stared at him. Evan tried to turn his head. Cree hadn’t unpinned him, so looking away would have been Evan’s only recourse to disengage him. But he saw it, the vulnerability Evan tried so hard to hide. Had it always been there? Had that been the reason he always seemed so stoic? Was it because Evan was more like Cree than he’d realized? “Goddamnit. Fucking—goddamnit, Evan. Fuck you. Fuck you for everything. I should have known having you here was a mistake. I should have hired another goddamn idiot from the company.” “God’s list is stacking up. Might want to delegate.” “What?” Cree paused in his tirade to make sense of Evan’s words. They sank in and he started laughing. “You’re a fucking asshole.” “I like fucking asshole, but that doesn’t make me one.” 51

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“Prove it. I have a box of condoms upstairs.” Evan looked uncomfortable. “I can’t.” “You can. I was there the last time, or have you forgotten?” “I didn’t forget.” Evan rested his hands on Cree’s thighs. “I’m not going to forget. I just can’t do it again.” “Why?” “Because of this.” Evan gestured between them. “Because you’re never going to understand why getting involved with you isn’t a good idea. It can only be casual.” “Fine. I’ll take what I can get. Call it casual if you want to. I’ll know the difference,” Cree contested. “I’m not worried about how you’ll take our relationship, Cree. Believe it or not, it’s not about you.” Evan huffed. “Get off me.” “What’s it about, Evan?” Cree ignored the request. He needed to know. He needed to hear whatever Evan had to say. Either way, it would help him move on. It couldn’t hurt any more than the last round had, could it? “You’re a big shot. You have your pick of anyone you want. I’m a flash in the pan. It wouldn’t take long before you start looking around for the next lay.” “So this is about your insecurity?” Cree asked. “Cree, you’re not a guy someone like me falls for and gets over. You’re the kind of guy who destroys guys like me.” “Bullshit.” “Bullshit, nothing. I’ve found what I came to Hollywood to find. Now I have to deal with it and go back to Indiana. There’s nothing about having a relationship with you that makes that easy for me.” What did he come to Hollywood to find? The guy he’d hired the private eye to locate? The fax? Cree clamped his lips. He got 52

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off Evan and stalked down Evan’s hallway to the office. Pieces of fax machine lay everywhere, along with papers, both unused and wadded. “Cree!” Evan jogged into the office. “Don’t.” Cree spun on him. “Right now, I’m Mr. Radek and my employee just busted up very expensive equipment because of his personal life. Back the fuck off.” “I’m serious. Don’t mess with my shit. You wouldn’t understand.” “You’re right. I’m a moron. I’m incapable of the simplest concepts—including how to back the fuck off. Sit your shit down, while I muddle through. If I don’t understand, then you have nothing lost anyway.” “But I—” “Walker, the man I thought wanted to be my boyfriend just dumped me over a fax. I have every right to find out why.” Cree went straight for the crumpled papers. He opened the first one. “David Fowler, age fifty-nine, of Glendale, California. Six feet two inches, one hundred and ninety pounds. Caucasian descent, with brown eyes and white hair. Arrived in Los Angeles approximately thirty years ago, from—” Cree’s eyes flicked to Evan’s as he read the town. He continued out loud. “Huntington, Indiana. Pursued acting career and was involved in the following productions.” Cree’s gaze skimmed the short, unimpressive list. “Continued behind the scenes on various projects.” “You don’t need to read it. I already did.” Evan’s words sounded forced, rough. “I haven’t.” Cree skimmed more of the page. “No known family.” 53

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He opened the next two pages. One was a picture, and the growing suspicion was revealed with a clunk. He looked like Evan. Older, more jowly, beaten up a little by life, but the resemblance was uncanny. The same brown eyes looked back at him. The same hairline, the same nose, the same halfway smile. “He’s your dad,” Cree stated. “It must have killed her.” “Who?” “My mom. I look just like him. She had to raise a boy who looks exactly like the man who left her for Hollywood,” Evan said, dully. “An actor who broke your mom’s heart, and the heart of her little boy,” Cree said, fitting the last piece in place. And now the little boy was afraid he was following in both his parents’ footsteps. His mother’s for potentially falling for an actor. His father’s because he’d left his mother for Hollywood. Different reason. Same outcome. “I’d never seen a picture of him before,” Evan confessed. “She never showed me one.” “She probably realized how it would affect you. She loves you.” “I came here after him. She didn’t want me to go. She thought I’d stay like he did. Now I know why. I’m history repeating itself in her eyes.” Evan’s defeated tone shook him. “You aren’t your father,” Cree told him. “Aren’t I? I abandoned her.” “Really? Is that why you left Indiana? To hurt your mother?” Cree said disbelieving. “I came to find the rat bastard and slap him with a subpoena. 54

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Then I planned to go home and make sure he paid her every penny of back child support so maybe she can retire one day.” “Doesn’t sound like abandonment to me. Sounds like integrity.” Cree put the papers on the desk. “You’re a good guy. Your mom raised you to be. You’ve nothing in common with David Fowler except his looks. Give yourself a little credit.” “You wouldn’t understand.” “You’re right. I couldn’t possibly have led a normal life before I came to Hollywood. I had a rose petal path with no issues standing in my way either. That’s where you’re going with this argument?” “I just mean that you and I have different histories. Mine happens to be a six-foot-two, deadbeat dad,” Evan said. “Mine involved me getting repeatedly used, to accomplish other people’s goals.” Evan gaze met his. “I wasn’t using you.” “That’s how it feels.” “I wanted to be with you. I was just very aware that I wouldn’t be sticking around in Hollywood after I found David.” Cree wanted to stop talking. He was getting the strange queasiness in the pit of his stomach that he always got when he had to confront someone. He hated this part of a relationship. They both wanted each other, but neither one of them wanted to give up their stance. And Cree, for one, still felt pretty strongly about the way Evan had handled their—fling. Mostly because it hadn’t been a fling in Cree’s mind. Evan’s explanation after the fact, the lack of trust, and the expectation of Cree’s character failing Evan, had stung. He wouldn’t claim it compared to Evan’s pain, but God he wanted to. Cree’s pain was just as valid. 55

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But it wasn’t his time, it was Evan’s. Evan’s pain was fresh, and Evan had finally found his father. “Which means,” Cree said, picking up both his thought and the segment of conversation where Evan had left off. “You’re returning to Indiana.” “That’s the plan.” “What about Austria?” He wanted to say, what about me . Evan had answered that question clearly five nights ago. Cree didn’t figure into the equation. “I still have to talk to the lawyer back home and get that subpoena issued. He’s waiting to file the request with the judge, so it won’t take long.” “Production had planned being onsite for several months, until location filming is done there. Then they were going to tie it up in Canada,” Cree reminded him. He felt guilty for bringing it up. He knew Evan would feel accountable, and he was right. “I’ll stay through production of the film. However long it takes. I just need some time to get the suit settled.” Cree looked at the floor. The destruction. He didn’t need to look at Evan to see the pain in his eyes. The evidence in this office was enough to make the point. Evan wasn’t okay. He wasn’t close to okay, and he wouldn’t be until he looked after his mother. Which is what he should do. It’s what Cree would expect him to do. “Go home,” Cree said after several silent moments. “I’ll take a couple of weeks, then come back once my mom’s taken care of. She still works three jobs. She needs the money David will be forced to pay back. I’ll finish up the shoot with you and help you hire a replacement.” Cree shook his head slowly. “No, Evan. Go home.” His voice cracked. He picked up a cartridge on the floor where he’d been 56

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staring moments ago, so Evan wouldn’t see how hard the request had been. Without another word, Cree walked out.

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CHAPTER 6 Evan sat at his mother’s kitchen table, sipping a cup of hot coffee while the house remained quiet. It had been a week and he still couldn’t erase the image of Cree walking away from him, his head slightly down, telling him to go home. The resignation in his tone echoed in Evan’s quiet moments. He’d dreamed about running after Cree and telling him that he’d come anyway, to just wait a few days. But it had been more than a few days, and the subpoena had been served. There’d been no word from David Fowler. The lawyer had told him that David needed to find representation, too, and that was the hang up. He’d said that David wouldn’t have a choice but to pay, because Evan’s mother had filed for support a year after he’d left and it had been sitting in the 58

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court system ever since. He’d said it was only a matter of time. Evan didn’t want any more time wasted. Urgency built in him daily to find Cree. He had so much to say to fix things. They hadn’t left on good terms. And just when Evan thought he knew what to say, he realized he hadn’t a clue at all. It wasn’t like they’d left fighting. They hadn’t parted ways with a simple disagreement. They’d parted ways because their goals took them there, and because those individual goals had caused hurt in the other person. Evan had done most of the striking out. Cree had been right about a lot of things. They’d led different lives, but one wasn’t more valuable than the other. They’d had different experiences, but one wasn’t more important than the other. Yet that’s how Evan had treated Cree. So in that way, Cree had been wrong. Evan had behaved like David. He’d left someone behind who could have loved him if Evan had given Cree half a chance. It wasn’t like celebrities had a different reaction to pain and loss. Putting himself in Cree’s shoes, he’d have shuttered his heart if the people in his life consistently used him. That’s how Cree had seen their time together. He’d thought Evan had used him, and Evan had stuck by his assertion that it wasn’t true. But was it? Had he used Cree? He’d gone over the argument so many times, Evan wasn’t sure what interpretation made sense. If someone would hand him the answers, he’d probably accept them as truth. Evan hung his head, sighing over the untouched steaming mug. Or it had been steaming when he’d first sat. “Such a long face,” his mother said. She walked in, already dressed for work. Since he’d been sending her money, she’d been able to let go of one of her jobs. He 59

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wanted to do so much more for her. “Morning, Mom.” Evan got up. “Want some coffee?” “I’d love some.” His mother moved efficiently through the kitchen, pulling out a plate and some bread. “Toast?” Evan declined, but she put in two slices, then added the cream and sugar to the cup he handed her. She smiled, but it didn’t remove the concern in her eyes. “You were happy in Hollywood, weren’t you?” she asked between sips. “I think I could have been.” “Was it Cree Radek? Was he the one who made you happy?” she asked gingerly. “I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t handle things well with him.” “Have you told him that?” “No.” The toaster dinged and his mother buttered the bread sparingly. She carried her plate and coffee to the table. Patting the seat next to her, she motioned him over. “Have you talked to him at all?” “He’s in Austria, filming.” “So? You were in Hollywood working day and night. You still had time to return my calls.” “I wasn’t mad at you,” Evan said smiling. He took the seat. “How do you know he’s still mad at you if you haven’t tried to call him?” “What would I tell him? Nothing’s changed. I need to be here taking care of things, and we have no answer to the subpoena in California. It’s not like I can go to Austria and pretend nothing happened.” His mother put her hand over his. “Honey, never pretend 60

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nothing happened. It doesn’t do either of you any good. Be honest with him. Tell him what you’re telling me.” “It’s not the same.” “Because he’s famous?” she asked, leveling him with an unimpressed stare. “He thinks I used him.” “Is he right?” she asked softly. “I don’t know. Maybe.” “If your answer is maybe, then it’s best to assume you have some apologizing to do.” Evan stared into his mug. “I can’t leave yet.” “Why not? Do you think I’ll fall apart without you?” He blinked and lifted his gaze to hers. She smiled fondly at him as though she thought she’d said something amusing. He’d always felt like she needed protecting. She’d had such a hard life bringing him up alone. No handouts, no special treatment, no easy jobs. She laughed then. “You were always such a helpful boy. I couldn’t have asked for a better son. But, Evan, even if you weren’t, I would have survived. I would have worked harder and juggled faster, but I would have been fine.” “When I left for Los Angeles you were so upset,” he reminded her. Her eyes grew sad. “I admit to thinking that you were following in your father’s footsteps. It took me a couple of days to remember who you were and that you’d never be David. I let my fear cloud my judgment and I think you’re doing that, too.” “The lawsuit will make a difference. He’ll pay all the back child support and you’ll be able to save it for retirement.” “And what if he doesn’t? The court can tell him to pay. If he chooses not to, then there’s another court battle to make him pay. It 61

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can run a cycle like that for years, draining what savings I do have. No.” She shook her head emphatically. “I can’t live my life hoping he’ll be responsible. I know better and so do you.” “I’ll help you pay. I’ll get another job.” His mother pushed away from the table and took her empty coffee cup to the sink. Her toast was untouched. She rested her hands on the edge of the sink, seeming to think for a minute, before she turned around again. “This, right here, this is my life. These are the results of the choices I made. I didn’t get pregnant by myself. I had enough sense to know that unprotected sex was a bad idea. I actually had that thought at the time—what if I get pregnant? And you know what? I did it anyway.” Evan started to talk. She stopped him with a lift of her finger. “It was a bad choice, but it was mine. I made it and he made it. Trying to get an irresponsible party to take responsibility is a pipedream. It doesn’t mean we won’t try. It means I’m not expecting him to come through with restitution.” His mother pushed away from the counter and walked over to him. She placed a hand on his chest. “I’m living my life, Evan. It’s a hard one, but it’s also a really good one. I’m happy. You go live your life now. It’s time that you stop putting me first and start thinking of what you need. Start thinking of that Cree Radek and how to get him back. I’ve never seen you this way, and that tells me he’s worth fighting for.” Evan hugged her close. “I love you, Mom.” “I love you, too.” She swatted his butt. “And now I need to get to work.” He laughed. “Can I at least stay another day or two while I wait for word from the lawyer?” 62

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“Sure. But you need to earn your keep. Take care of the laundry and buy some groceries today.” “You got it.” *

*

*

Evan spent the next two days keeping busy, cleaning his mother’s house like it was spring. And thinking. It was the thinking that was the killer. He’d already thought the situation to death, but in a spurt of determination, he’d booked his tickets to Austria. He knew where they were filming, since he’d helped manage the itinerary before Cree left. There were moments where his pride said, “Why hasn’t Cree tried to call me?” He knew the answer. He’d told Cree that he’d had no intention of sticking around after he found his father. Not even for Cree. Evan winced. If Cree had said that to him, he’d have assumed it was a celebrity thing. But if Cree had meant it, that he’d actually been thinking in terms of a relationship with Evan, God that had to have hurt. Suddenly, he couldn’t get to Austria fast enough.

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CHAPTER 7 Cree pulled his coat tighter around his neck. It was too goddamn cold here. It should be against the laws of human nature to live in a climate like this one. Oesterhausen seemed to thrive at its foothills nonetheless. He didn’t know how. It wasn’t a wellknown tourist destination. Although he’d been told that this was the second movie crew to film here. “Must pay well,” Cree mused, looking up at the snow-covered peaks. He stomped his feet, trying to slap some feeling back into them. His fingers felt frozen in place at his collar. “Walker,” he bellowed. “Coffee.” “Mr. Radek, my name is Brett Shackley.” Cree glared at him. 64

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“Getting it!” he called cheerfully as he rushed for the service tables. The coffee came and Cree shivered as he cupped it close to his face. “Where the fuck is my script, Walker?” Shackley sighed. “It’s at the hotel.” “You left your copy of the script in the hotel? Walker was new at his job, too, but he always had his shit together,” Cree grumbled. “I’ll go get it. Do you need anything else while I’m there?” Cree ignored him. Nothing worked as smoothly without Evan. He didn’t sleep as well, without Evan nearby. He didn’t feel confident that his affairs were being managed properly, either. Evan did everything right the first time. His mind slipped to a moment of ecstasy, rolling on the bedcovers in the dark with Evan’s body flexing and pumping into his. The cold Austrian air couldn’t stop the fill of his cock. “Jesus.” He had to get Evan out of his mind. If that was possible. Brett was doing his best. He’d agreed to do Ryan Pierce a favor by hiring him, but Brett wasn’t Evan. The best consolation he could offer was to call him by Evan’s name. The lighting crew and cameras were set. Eliza White, decked out in faux white fox coat, sat on a boulder next to the thermal spring that made a natural hot tub in the snow. Or at least that was the scene the set builders had created. Did Montana even have hot springs? “Mr. Radek, you’re needed on set,” the director called. Cree groaned. He handed the cup to a set aide and shrugged out of his coat. Underneath, he wore swimming trunks. Another aide took his pants and boots from him as he stepped into the water. “Oh, thank God, it’s actually a hot spring,” Cree breathed. 65

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Eliza followed, giggling and sighing in that way the vapid movie actresses do when they think they’re being cute. If Evan were here, Cree would tell him to make a note never to work with Eliza again. He saw Brett jogging from the hotel in the distance, across the expanse of snow. It was awkward and comical. Cree smiled. Evan would never have run. He’d have arrived. A black sedan pulled up where the service table was set up. Cree barely spared it a look. “And action!” the director called. “I didn’t think you’d come,” Cree as Johnny said. “I wasn’t sure I should.” She pouted. “He’s my best friend, too.” “I’d lose everything if he found us together.” Cree looked off into the distance like he was supposed to, checking for their best friend. His gaze locked at the edge of the staging area. Cree leaped to his feet. Evan’s short brown hair fluttered in the cold mountain air. His thick black wool coat wrapped him to his knees where the corner also flapped playfully. Cree was seeing things. He had to be. The man smiled that partial smile, kind of shy, kind of pleased, all Evan Walker. “Cut! Cree is there a problem?” He didn’t even feel the cold air on his wet skin. “Walker?” The apparition took its hand out of its pocket and waved casually. Cree sat heavily. “I need fifteen,” he called to the director. “Everyone, take fifteen.” A horn sounded as an all-call, and the aide came to his side with clothes. Cree dressed on the heated mat behind the tub, then 66

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walked quickly to the man who carried a striking resemblance to Evan Walker. When he reached him, Cree stared. He didn’t know whether to hug him, or start yelling. Instead, he searched his mind for something to say. “Did it work out for your mom?” he asked. Evan’s smile faded. “Not by the time I left. It’s pending.” “So you’re going home soon,” Cree assumed. “I don’t know. Am I?” He looked good, all scrubbed and Midwestern, with healthy skin born of good food and fresh air. Cree had the sense that if he hugged him and inhaled, Evan would smell like soap and hay. “Why are you here?” Cree asked. Was it duty to finish the production he’d started, or something else. “I—couldn’t stay away.” Evan’s expression grew earnest. “Can we talk?” “No.” “Oh, okay,” Evan verbally stumbled. “I mean, not now. They’re about to call me to set. Meet me tonight at the hotel?” There was only one hotel in town and they had the whole thing booked out, while still having to pay locals to house some of the crew. “Are you using a special name or does it matter?” Evan asked. “This town’s too small for paparazzi and psychos.” Cree cracked a smile. He waved Brett over. “Give Walker my room keys.” Brett gave Evan an assessing look as he handed them over. The horn sounded to return to set. “I’ve gotta—” Cree hitched a thumb over his shoulder. 67

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“Yeah, you’ve gotta go,” Evan agreed filling the air with inconsequential conversation. *

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Evan watched him saunter off, admiring how even in snow boots he looked like he ate up the ground as he moved. “So you’re Walker,” Brett stated like he’d suddenly learned something important. Evan held out his hand. “Evan Walker, Cree’s former assistant.” “You must have been a great assistant. Do you know that he refuses to call me anything but Walker? Like you never left, which is totally okay, I get it. He just doesn’t like change I guess.” The blond surfer boy with spiky hair grinned brilliantly at him. Brett must drive Cree crazy with all his excitement and chatter. In this instance, Evan was extremely pleased. Cree missed him. He might only miss his professional side, but it was a start. “He likes order,” Evan acknowledged. “How many years did you work for him? Must’ve been a lot. No one does anything right like you do. He only tolerates me because my best friend is hooked up with Ryan Pierce.” “I think I remember hearing about the man who got Ryan Pierce out of the closet.” He grinned at Brett. “I haven’t worked for Mr. Radek very long. You’ll find your way.” “The guy is smokin’ hot, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It’s like he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed every morning.” That made Evan laugh. He remembered thinking the same thing at first. “He grows on you.” 68

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Evan heard his name. He looked around and saw Susie from makeup. Evan waved. Susie beckoned him over. “Brett, it was great meeting you but it looks like I need to stop over and see Susie before I head to the hotel. It was a long flight. I’m dying for a nap.” Brett thumped him on the back as Evan made his way to the makeup van. That’s what it was, too, a van. He doubted Susie was terribly impressed. “Hey, Susie.” Evan flashed her a bright smile. Susie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare, hey Susie me. You left him. Do you know how hard it is to get Cree Radek into makeup when he’s moping?” “I—haven’t a clue,” he offered, not sure what to say. Yet more confirmation that Cree had missed him. It eased his soul. “No, you don’t have a clue. Not even one to leave that boy the way you did.” Evan found himself getting annoyed. His mouth tightened and he counted to ten to stay calm. Susie took his arm and led him to a more private area. “Evan, you’re a good boy. I like you. I also care a great deal about that man over there. He’s been through a lot. Now, I don’t care to know the extent of your working relationship, but I know a heartsick man when I see one. You left him high and dry.” If the roles had been reversed, his mother would also have given Cree a talking to. Evan put his hand over hers and squeezed. “I know, Susie. I was wrong. I’m going to fix it, if he’ll let me.” Susie’s eyes moistened and she swallowed him in a bear hug. “I knew you were a good sort.” Evan pecked a kiss on her cheek and looked back at Cree 69

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working through his lines as he shivered between takes. Evan’s eyes felt gritty and heavy. He needed sleep, especially if he was going to try to convince Cree to give him another shot. Evan slipped away to the hotel room. Twenty minutes later, he was sprawled across Cree’s bed in the dark. *

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Cree finally broke away from filming. On the way to his room, he wished there was a way to calm his speeding heart. Evan had made himself very clear. He didn’t trust relationships with celebrities. David Fowler had fucked it up for all of them. Though Cree didn’t think he’d given Evan any reason to question him, Evan couldn’t get passed what David had done to his mother. Cree had been afraid to hope that Evan would come back. He’d told him not to, but he’d secretly hoped Evan would ignore the request. Now, outside the door, he wasn’t sure if Evan’s appearance was good or bad. Cree couldn’t deny he was happy to see him, but he didn’t relish the prospect of going through the disappointment again. He used a key copy to get in. The room was dark and the curtains had been drawn, making it even harder for his eyes to adjust. He reached for the small lamp by the bar and clicked it on. Yellow light spilled into the room and touched the shape of Evan’s sleeping form. Cree watched him for a moment, almost afraid to wake him in case the reason Evan had returned didn’t have anything to do with picking up where they’d left off. But, Jesus, he’d missed Evan. He missed the way he thought about things, and the jokes he laughed at. He missed the little quirks of his personality. He missed kissing 70

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him, too. Cree took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to calm the riot of butterflies in his stomach. Crossing the room, he sat on the edge of the bed when he reached Evan. What would Evan think if Cree snuggled up behind him and held him? Was it possible that arms could miss holding another person? Cree ached to be near him. He dropped a hand on Evan’s hip. He knew the flight over had to have wiped him out. It had taken Cree two full days and lots of hydration to adjust to normal daytime hours. He shook Evan gently. Evan moaned, then, seeming to come to, he pushed up on the bed. “Cree,” he said in a sleepy growl. Cree smiled. That was promising. Not a Mr. Radek, but a Cree. “Hey.” “Hey.” Evan smiled like drowsy sex. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Toothbrush.” He scooted off the bed and went for the luggage by the front door that Cree hadn’t noticed until now. Finding what he needed, Evan swung around looking. “Bathroom’s there. I looks like a louvered closet door,” Cree offered. Evan disappeared behind it. Water ran for a while before Evan finally reemerged. When he did, it was to come sit beside Cree on the bed. He tucked one foot behind his knee so that he was facing Cree, mirroring Cree’s position. “How was your flight?” Cree asked lamely. “Long.” Evan smiled easily. His eyes searched Cree’s. “Worth it.” The cryptic answer didn’t exactly clear things up. “You must be hungry,” Cree suggested. 71

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“No. Not really.” “Thirsty?” Evan laughed. Cree did, too. The awkwardness was palpable. “No. I drank some of the pitcher water in the bathroom. But thanks.” Evan fiddled with a wrinkle in his jeans. Cree watched him pluck at the wrinkle and press on it, in stupid fascination. “Why are you here?” Cree repeated the question he’d asked on the set. “I want to come back.” “In what capacity?” Cree needed to know before he said yes either way. He didn’t know if he could work with Evan, considering he couldn’t get Evan out of his mind. If Evan wanted back into his bed, Cree couldn’t be casual about it. “However you’ll let me.” Clear as mud. Cree felt the tension return to his shoulders. God, he couldn’t do this halfway shit anymore. “Evan, what do you want from me?” “I want you.” “As a lover, an employer, a friend, a conquest? I can’t read your mind and you’re giving me nothing to work with.” Evan seemed to be struggling with his answer. “Fuck it,” he muttered, coming to some unknown decision. “You don’t get anywhere unless you ask, right?” “I guess,” Cree answered cautiously. “This may mess up my chances, but it’s all I’ve got.” He smiled nervously. “You were never a conquest, and I fucked up royally to let you think so in any way. I wanted you, but I didn’t believe that a relationship with a celebrity would last. In my experience, the one between my parents didn’t, so I didn’t think it 72

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could be different with you.” “You didn’t trust me.” “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I was wrong to hold you up to my father’s image and expect you to be the same.” “Yeah, you were way fucking off,” Cree agreed bitterly. “I really believed that I was your fling.” Cree made a sound of disgust. “Think about that for a second. When have you known, or read about me, having random sex or random partners? Does that sound like me?” “No.” “Then why the fuck would you believe it?” Evan ran a hand through his hair. “Because you were interested in me, Cree. I’m nobody. I’m an employee who’s convenient.” “You’re smarter than that,” Cree countered. Evan nodded. “Because I wanted to believe it, despite the fact that I knew better. It made leaving when I found my father easier if I was your fling.” “It made you the fucking martyr.” Cree’s heart raced. He was pissed, but they were finally getting somewhere and he wasn’t about to change the direction of the conversation. “You’re right.” Several seconds passed between them. “So what do you want from me?” Cree asked again. “I want to start over. As pathetic as this sounds, I fell in love with you along the way and I screwed it up. I want a second chance.” “You hurt me.” “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Evan’s brown eyes looked sorrowful. They also looked hopeful. “Don’t ever fucking hurt me again.” Cree put his hands on 73

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Evan’s thighs and squeezed. “I’m glad you came back. Will you stay?” Evan cupped Cree’s cheek. Cree leaned into it, closing his eyes, not caring if his tough-guy image took a flying leap out the window. Evan was back. “I don’t want to hurt you again but, realistically, it might happen,” Evan admitted reluctantly. “Trust me enough to give me the benefit of the doubt next time. And trust me when family stuff comes up. Trust that I can help, or at least listen.” Evan nodded, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Cree’s lips. “I promise.” Cree tackled him sideways to the bed. “And don’t fucking leave me again.” He knew his emotions were on his face. He could hear the thick hitch of tears in his voice and saw that Evan heard it, too. “I won’t,” Evan whispered. “I’m done being stupid. I love you, Cree.” “It’s about damn time you did.” *

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Cree kissed him. Evan’s eyes sealed happily. Cree was his. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t declared his undying love. That might take time, considering how much Evan had done to shake Cree’s faith in him. Evan was willing to wait, especially if it meant more kisses like this. Cree’s hands dragged up Evan’s torso, bunching his shirt out of the way and running ticklish fingers over his pits and ribs. Evan’s skin tingled everywhere he touched, wanted to tingle everywhere 74

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he missed. Evan raised his arms over his head so that Cree could get Evan’s shirt off. Once he was free, Cree muscled out of his shirt, too, and they were finally pressed bare chest to bare chest. He’d missed this. Evan loved the way their body’s worked together, the give and take of breathing like this, their bodies in unison. He could feel Cree’s heart as well as he could feel his own. Evan parted his lips, needing more of the man. It was just as he remembered. Cree tasted like a welcome home. Evan worked Cree’s pants off. Cree stopped kissing to kick off his shoes and socks. It was as Evan was doing the same that Cree suddenly got up and went to the bathroom. Evan flung his second sock, the last of his clothing, to the floor as Cree came back with lube and condoms. “We really ought to start keeping those closer to the bed,” Evan mused. “I haven’t needed to until now, but I’ll keep that in mind. I intend to make sure you stay in my bed every night from now on.” Was that a commitment or a statement said in the heat of passion? Evan’s heart didn’t care. It felt full because of the words, however they were intended. Cree’s gaze roamed Evan. Evan stretched out for him to look his fill. “I love the way you look,” Cree murmured. Evan stroked his cock, which stood proudly erect. “I think it’s pretty clear how much I like looking at you.” “I’m impressed.” Cree climbed onto the bed with him. He lay on Evan, both of them groaning as their naked, hot cocks rolled against each other. “Do you bottom?” Cree asked. 75

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“I would for you.” Cree lifted up. “Roll on your stomach.” Evan did, and Cree spread his legs, forcing the globes of Evan’s ass apart. Evan handed back the lube and hissed when the cool gel touched him. “Foreplay after?” Cree suggested. “Isn’t that postplay?” “Only if we stop there.” Evan chuckled, but it died the minute Cree began teasing his hole. Cree didn’t take a lot of time. He seemed to be in a hurry, but that was okay with Evan. He wanted that reconnection just as badly. There’d be time later to slow down. Cree pushed in another finger, tugging on the tight ring of muscles to pop over them playfully. “Cree, please. I need you.” Evan shivered as tingles raced up his spine and danced around his scalp. If Cree didn’t hurry, Evan might just come. Cree tugged on Evan’s balls and cock. “What are you doing?” “Making sure you don’t come. I want to be inside of you first,” Cree answered. Evan felt a tight binding wrap the base of his cock and restrict his testicles. “A cock ring?” he asked incredulously. “Of a kind. I MacGyvered it.” “I’m pretty sure MacGyver never needed a cock ring to save his life.” “More’s the pity.” Cree finished, slapped Evan’s ass, and continued his anal teasing. Suddenly Cree pushed in, filling Evan and making him groan. Evan’s body had to adjust, but Cree didn’t give him time. He thrust 76

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in again and Evan’s body crawled with need. “Don’t slow down,” Evan begged breathlessly. “I couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re damn tight.” “You’re the first in a long time.” The words seemed to spur Cree on. Cree pulled out and fucked hard, slamming his balls against Evan’s ass. Evan’s testicles, held immovable by the binding, stayed in place, and Cree’s balls bounced against them, too. Evan fisted the covers. Cree paused long enough to lift Evan’s ass in the air. Then the fucking really began. The need to come was so great, but the binding held him in check. If it were possible to get fucked all day long by Cree, Evan would want it. He thrust sure and hard every time, and it wasn’t just anyone’s ass Cree wanted, it was Evan’s. He only hoped that would translate to wanting Evan as they worked out their relationship. Cree bellowed, rocking hard into Evan’s ass as he came. He’d barely finished when Evan flipped him to his back. Kneeling straddled across Cree’s chest, he lifted his bound cock toward him. “Take it off,” Evan rasped. Cree sent him a mischievous wink, took Evan’s cock in his mouth, and started sucking. Evan’s mouth hung open in a strangled cry. Cree’s mouth felt so good Evan didn’t want him to stop. But if Cree didn’t stop, Evan’s cock would explode, he was sure of it. Cree wrapped his hand around Evan’s cock and licked the tip like a lollipop. “And if I say no?” “You’re evil,” Evan exclaimed, shaking with the need to come. “If I undo this, you’ll come too fast. Trust me,” Cree told him. “Do you trust me?” Evan looked down into his clear blue eyes. “I do.” “Good.” 77

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Cree propped his head up on pillows. He tugged Evan’s cock and Evan scooted closer. In this position, Evan’s thighs supported Cree’s arms and Evan’s cock filled Cree’s mouth. It was heaven. It was fucking hell. Torture and pleasure rolled into one perfect moment. Cree sucked the cock head, one hand pumping his shaft while the other messed with the area he’d bound. The pressure slowly released and Evan cried out as intense pleasure made his head swim. He couldn’t hold still. Rocking his hips, he fucked Cree’s hand and mouth, and still the binding loosened more and more until his balls swung free. Restricted until now, and still close to coming, nothing held back the tide of orgasm Cree released. Evan yelled and cum streaked up his cock and shot in stinging jets from his cock hole straight into his lover’s mouth. Cree moaned his approval. Evan gasped as the last spurts emptied him and Cree swallowed everything he’d been given. After Cree sucked him off and helped Evan to his back, they looked at each other. Evan started laughing. “That was amazing.” “You’re amazing,” Cree whispered. He kissed Evan tenderly. “Thank you for trusting me.” “I should have—” Cree put a finger over his lips and shook his head slightly. “That’s forgiven.” Cree curled into Evan’s side, resting his head on Evan’s shoulder. He pressed kisses to Evan’s neck, and Evan hugged him close. “I love you, Evan. I knew I loved you back in LA and I should have told you then. I was afraid to after we had that fight. I’m glad you came home.” 78

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“Oh, thank God.” “What?” Cree asked. “I was afraid I’d have to wait months to hear that you loved me back.” He looked down at Cree. “I would’ve—waited—but I’m glad I don’t have to.” Cree pushed up to half cover Evan. “I love you. All that stuff with your parents, we’ll work it out together.” “I can’t ask you to do that.” “You don’t have to ask,” Cree explained. “I don’t have parents. I’m a product of foster care and I wish I’d had a mom who’d taken care of me the way yours did of you. I owe her. She made an incredible son.” “Then who do I thank for you?” Cree shrugged, a small smile on his face. “This thing with my dad could drag out for years.” “Doesn’t matter. Your mom will be taken care of. It’s what I would have done for mine if she existed. Your dad doesn’t stand a chance against the legal team I can pull together.” Evan sighed. “They aren’t your responsibility. They’re mine.” “Evan, I want you in my life and your mom is a part of that. She needs more help than you can give her. Will you let me?” “But the legal fees could be through the roof.” “Who cares? I intend to marry you one day, Walker. What’s mine is yours.” Evan knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t care. “Will you at least let me keep working for you until that happens?” “Sure, but we have to keep Brett on as your assistant because I promised Ryan Pierce I’d give him a job.” “I have an assistant and a boyfriend? Cool.” “Cool? Really?” 79

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Evan pulled him down for a kiss. “That’s Midwestern speak for, I can’t wait to make love to you again so that you know how much you mean to me .” “Oh,” Cree murmured between kisses. He grinned down at Evan. Then, with the famous Cree Radek brow lift, he rubbed Evan’s nose against his own and drew out the single syllable with absolute clarity. “Cool.”

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M IA WATTS

Mia makes her home in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she divides her time between a job and spying on people. Mia enjoys long walks along Lake Algonquin, daisies, dancing in the snow…(Delete prior sentence, meant for personal ad)… Mr. Perfect may apply in person for a thorough evaluation and trial. All others will be towed. To learn more about Mia, please visit her website at http://www.MiaWatts.com *

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Don’t miss Wrong Number, Right Guy by Mia Watts, available at AmberAllure.com!

Hollywood heartthrob Ryan Pierce has captivated the imagination of women all over the world, but all he really wants is a man of his own. The fact that Ryan is gay has been kept secret, thanks to his hard-working agent, and Ryan reluctantly plays along with the ruse. One night, Dar Phillips misdials a telephone number, but the guy on the other end of the line sounds sexy and funny so Dar keeps the

conversation flowing. The man claims to be working on the upcoming Ryan Pierce film and invites Dar to meet him face-toface at the movie studio. Dar eagerly agrees, but he’s not interested in meeting the film’s star, only the “wrong-number guy” whose voice on the telephone so enthralled and excited him. When the men finally meet, and Dar discovers the true identity of the stranger on the phone, sparks instantly fly…until the paparazzi show up and claim that Dar sold Ryan’s secret to the tabloids…

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