“This is good,” Julian said around his third bite. “Worth the jet lag.”
They both leaned over the bridge railing, watching the locals go by in silence, shoulders brushing together. Quiet and comfortable with each other, so close now that it felt strange not to be touching, sometimes.
“Think you’ll keep coming along with me, then?” Isaac asked. He was desperately trying to sound casual, which Julian knew meant he was up to something.
The last time he’d sounded like this, though, it’d ended in him awkwardly presenting Julian with a cock ring they’d both gotten a lot of fun out of, so Julian was inclined to just let Isaac work through whatever he was nervous about.
“I could be persuaded,” Julian said, smiling. “Always dreamed of seeing the world with you.”
“Me too. With you, I mean,” Isaac said. “Which is why… I was thinking…”
Julian turned to look at him, watching Isaac’s face as a hundred different emotions played out over it.
He reached out, taking Isaac’s hand and clasping their fingers together. “I’ll say yes,” Julian murmured, knowing exactly what was coming.
His heart swelled with excitement, eager to hear the words even though he really didn’t need to, even though he’d already given his answer.
Isaac’s mouth fell open, obviously shocked that he was so easy to read, but he recovered quickly enough.
“I was thinking we should get married,” he said hurriedly. “That’s, uh… that’s what you’re saying yes to, right?”
Julian grinned. He felt a little as though his heart had burst, an overwhelming rush of warmth and feeling in his chest, but he didn’t care.
He’d been fantasizing about this since he was thirteen.
“Yeah, that was it,” Julian confirmed, unable to stop himself laughing.
He was so damned happy. Happier than he could ever remember being.
“Well… good,” Isaac said, his whole face red as he looked out over the bridge again.
Julian shuffled a little closer, letting his head rest against Isaac’s shoulder. He sighed a deep, happy sigh, letting the surest sense of peace and contentment he’d ever felt wash over him.
This was right. This was exactly what he wanted, for the rest of his life.
“I’ve been wanting to ask that for months,” he admitted. “Couldn’t find the right time to do it.”
“And this is the right time?” Julian asked, chuckling again.
“No, but… I got impatient. I don’t wanna wait anymore. I know what I want, and it’s you.”
“I already said yes,” Julian pointed out. “You don’t need to sell it.”
Isaac let out a shuddering breath, the nervous tension he’d been holding onto finally easing up. “Still sinking in,” Isaac said. “Really?”
Julian laughed, joy blooming in his chest. “Really. Definitely. I’d love to marry you.”
Isaac reached out to him, pulling him into a desperate kiss. Laughter bubbled up in Julian’s throat, his heart soaring as Isaac kissed him, in front of everyone, so easily.
They’d come a long way, and this was the ending they deserved.
No, not the ending. The beginning of something new. Something even more wonderful than they’d already found.
“Soon?” Isaac asked, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.
Julian chuckled. “As soon as you want. Whatever you want,” Julian said. “I’ve been fantasizing about this since I was thirteen and the only thing I’ve ever cared about is that you’re there with me.”
Isaac blushed to the tips of his ears. “Way to make a guy feel special.”
“You are special,” Julian said sincerely, letting his voice drop to a low murmur. “You’re the love of my life, my soulmate, and you’re amazing in bed. Pretty much perfect.”
“I’ll take perfect,” Isaac grinned. “Finish your sandwich, I wanna show you everything.”
Julian hummed, turning his attention back to his rapidly-cooling sandwich and taking in the world around him, suddenly awash with colors twice as bright, sounds and smells twice as interesting.
He could definitely get used to this.
And he’d have the rest of his life to do it.
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Enjoyed Player? Try Cocky!
Chapter One
“How come I’m suddenly the sports reporter?” Eliot asked the moment he walked into his editor’s office, not even pausing to say hello. He’d been emailed through an interview assignment—a first at this magazine—without even being asked if he wanted it, and it didn’t make any sense at all.
As much as Eliot wished people would take him seriously, he’d gotten very used to being a grooming and fashion columnist at Cocky. He’d built a following, even.
A small following, but a following nonetheless.
Well. A few hundred Instagram followers. It was a start.
If this was him being shoved into a different department where he had no experience—and really, no interest—then he’d have to start looking for another job.
Which made the thousand-dollar repair he’d been told his car needed ten minutes ago seem even worse.
So far, Eliot’s morning wasn’t going well, and he wasn’t in the mood to put up with any other crap.
“Nice to see you, too,” Ben said wryly, sitting forward and leaning his elbows on the desk. “It’s not a sports story. It’s an interview with a guy who happens to play sport for a living. You don’t have to know anything about hockey to do it.”
“But why me?” Eliot asked. There were plenty of people better suited to the job, and he had his own work. He sincerely doubted that was going to be put on hold while he did this. It was on top of what he already had to do.
That would mean more money, which would have been nice, but Eliot wasn’t sure there were enough hours in the day.
Ben raised an eyebrow. “You know the guy just came out, right?”
Eliot blinked at him. “I’ve literally never heard his name before, so no. We’re not… all gay people don’t just magically know each other, you know.”
“How have you not heard of Danny Harper? The guy’s a hockey legend around here.” Ben gestured toward the window, out to the city beyond.
“I’m not from here,” Eliot said, knowing that Ben knew that. He’d only been in LA for a year, and he’d spent most of that chained to a desk in the Cocky offices.
It had seemed like a dream job at the time. Most of the time, Eliot still told himself that it was. He was getting paid to do what he wanted to do, after all. So what if it wasn’t serious journalism?
Sport wasn’t serious journalism either, although it was probably a step up from shaving tips and Ten Trendy Ways to Tie a Scarf in the eyes of most people.
“Right, yeah.” Ben waved away Eliot’s objection. “Anyway, it’s your assignment. He’ll be more comfortable opening up to you.”
“Because I’m gay,” Eliot said. He didn’t need to ask. He understood now why he was in here.
He wanted to be insulted, though he wasn’t sure exactly how it was insulting. The idea that they’d automatically get along better because they were both gay didn’t really hold up to any kind of logic, but Eliot could see how Ben had arrived at it.
“Yes,” Ben responded, without a hint of shame.
Eliot wasn’t really sure what to say to that.
“I don’t have time to write this and my last online column for this week.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Between you and me, no one’s gonna notice if you dial it in for your column.”
That was definitely insulting, but also, unfortunately, true. Eliot could tell himself that he wrote the best damned grooming and fashion tips on the planet—and maybe he did—but no one actually cared.
As much as he hated to ad
mit it, this was his chance to write something that would at least seem like real journalism.
Even if it was an interview he was only being sent to do because he was gay.
“Hey, listen.” Ben leaned closer, lowering his voice. “This is your chance, okay? You’re good at this job, and you could do so much more than fill a gap in the publishing schedule. I wanna see that. Take the assignment.”
Eliot considered.
On the one hand, he didn’t know the first thing about hockey, and he also didn’t actually care. This was in no way his dream assignment, and he was sure he wasn’t the best man for the job.
On the other hand, if he did this well, it could mean the chance to do other things. If he could prove he was versatile, they might move him to the technology department or something.
If he really showed them what he could do, they might even let him do some actual reporting.
Cocky had been a dream job for him specifically because they were one of few men’s lifestyle magazines that actually bothered to report on important issues in-depth, without glossing over them.
The fact that he’d gotten stuck reviewing teeth whitening products always felt like his own fault. He’d known his way around a makeup brush when he applied, making him unique on the team. There were a few other guys on staff who weren’t straight, but they all had other areas of expertise, and a lot more experience than Eliot did. Eliot was still the new guy, still unproven.
Ben was giving him a chance to change all that.
He’d have to be an idiot not to take it.
“Okay,” Eliot said. “But I want it on record that I warned you I know nothing about sport.”
“Duly noted.” Ben sat back. “Go contact his manager to set up an appointment. This one’s going in the print edition as well, so I need you not to screw it up.”
Eliot snorted. “But no pressure, right?”
“No pressure. Just get it right.”
“Thanks, boss,” Eliot said as he turned to walk away. Ben didn’t try to stop him, so he accepted that the conversation was over.
It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could do it. It was just that it wouldn’t have been his first choice of semi-serious assignment, if he’d been given one.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though. And Ben was right—his current position was fairly safe, but he wasn’t going anywhere while he was stuck in it.
There had to be more to life than trying to convince adult men that it was okay to pluck their eyebrows if they wanted.
Eliot sat down at his desk and wrote down the number the assignment brief had given for Harper’s manager. If interviewing a hockey player was his ticket to something bigger, then this was going to be the best damn interview ever published.
Pick up Cocky here to keep reading!
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