Creative Process

by Jodi Payne

  There was a fair amount of applause, and then the microphones all went dead. Reese stood and stretched. He smiled and shook hands with a few of the authors who had also been on the panel, and then Chad was at his elbow. “All done for the day.”

  “Oh, thank God. I need a drink.”

  “Thought you might. Come on.” Chad whisked him off to the hotel bar. It was huge and crowded, but they managed to find a seat toward the back where they would be somewhat insulated from the convention attendees. Reese opened a menu, half hiding behind it while he figured out what he was hungry for.

  “Will it ruin my image if I have a big, fat bacon cheeseburger?” he asked Chad, mostly kidding.

  “The bloodier the better!” Chad replied cheerfully.

  “Oh, that was a good one.” Reese groaned and put the menu down. “That was a tough panel. I almost fell asleep.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s over.”

  Reese’s phone chirped at him, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He grinned at the picture Owen had just texted him of his banged-up toe. Missed step coming out the damn subway & this happened—miss u and ur fancy cars—and ur dick.

  Reese kept his face neutral and texted Owen back. I’m sorry I’m not there to suck on it for you. Take that any way you please.

  I’d take it from u right now if I could

  Reese snorted, and he couldn’t hide his grin this time. I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. Go ahead and fantasize.

  Maybe u should call me l8r

  Reese’s cock jumped, and his breath caught in his throat for a moment. I am definitely calling you later. God, that was not something he needed to be thinking about right now with Chad sitting right next to him. He looked up at Chad. “Sorry.” He gestured to his phone.

  “Owen?”

  Reese nodded, picking up a glass of water that a server had set down a moment ago. He took a long sip and chewed on some ice. “That obvious?”

  Chad laughed. “You’re blushing.”

  “I am not. I don’t blush.” Usually. Right now his neck and cheeks felt suspiciously warm. “Didn’t I say I needed a drink?”

  “Mmhmm. You did.” Chad waved their server over.

  “Hi, I’m Luke. I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  Chad started to say something, but Reese cut him off. “We’ll start with two shots each of tequila. Top shelf. Salt and limes, please. And then I’ll have a Stella.”

  Chad glanced at him. “Okay, I won’t argue, but I’ll follow up with a Blue Moon, and could we also have some chips or bread or something?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  Reese cut his eyes at Chad. “Chicken.”

  Chad flatly ignored the taunt. “You are not drinking without food in your stomach.”

  “You mean you are afraid that you can’t keep up with me.” Reese leaned back in his chair. Things below the belt were more under control now.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Reese’s phone chirped again, and he picked it up off the table. The picture Owen sent this time left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and Reese clicked the screen off abruptly.

  “Owen again?”

  “In the flesh.” Reese grinned.

  “Oh, nice. A lullaby for later.”

  “Now I really need that drink.” Reese gulped down the rest of his water, and a second later the shots arrived.

  Reese picked up the salt, licked the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, and coated it with salt. He waited for Chad to catch up, then picked up one of the shot glasses.

  “To….” Reese paused, not sure what to say next.

  “To cock,” Chad said helpfully.

  “Hear, hear!” Reese licked the salt from his hand, pounded back the first shot, and then stuck a lime between his front teeth and grinned at Chad. There were a lot of reasons he and Chad were friends, and their love of both tequila and men were chief among them.

  They each took a sip of their beer and set up for the second round. “So this one,” Chad suggested and raised his shot glass, “should be to finishing book four.”

  Reese shook his head. “Nope. I’m terrified of finishing four. Try something else.”

  “Really?” Chad snorted. “To us, then.”

  “To us,” Reese agreed and drank.

  They were quiet for a bit while they enjoyed the onset of the warm glow from the tequila. Chad sipped his beer and then looked at Reese. “So. You’re terrified to finish the book?”

  “Hey, can I get you guys something to eat?” Their server suddenly appeared and began cleaning up the empties. Chad ordered a buffalo chicken sandwich and Reese did, in fact, order a bacon cheeseburger, rare. But apparently all of that wasn’t enough of a distraction for Chad.

  “Why terrified?”

  Reese tapped a finger on the table. “Because.” He wasn’t entirely sure how to put it into words. “Because Harris has been talking to me for more than a decade. He’s the one with the answers. He’s the guy who figured things out when I didn’t know what to do next. He’s been the voice in my head, you know?”

  “He’s you.”

  He looked at Chad. He’d considered the idea a couple of years ago. Was Harris just a shadow of himself? Was Harris his Mary Sue? But in the end he’d decided no. Harris was a character he cared about, someone he’d spent years developing, balancing, creating. He was kind of like Reese’s ventriloquist dummy—Harris was someone he imbued with life but who didn’t have any life without him.

  “No, he’s not me. But he’s mine.”

  Chad nodded. “Okay, so you have an unhealthy codependence on an imaginary friend.”

  “Yes!” Reese said slapping the table. “Wait a minute. No.” He slouched in his chair, starting to feel the effects of the tequila. “Sort of.”

  Chad shook his head. “You really are a lightweight these days.”

  “Shut up.”

  Chad raised an eyebrow at Reese and gestured with his chin toward Reese’s phone. “Can I see his dick?”

  “No! God, you’re such a perv.”

  “S’okay. I got a quick glance the other morning.”

  Owen had told Reese about that. Poor thing had been mortified.

  “Listen, honey. I can understand being anxious about ending something you’ve poured so many years of your life into. I really can. But maybe knowing this will help.” Chad looked at Reese meaningfully. “I’m not worried.”

  Reese raised an eyebrow. “You’re not writing it.”

  “Exactly. I’m not writing it. I have no control over how you end it, or whatever project you start next. But don’t forget, honey, you’re my bread and butter. I could be very worried about my rent going forward, but I’m not because I know you. You’re a writer. If this book really is the end of this series—”

  “Not if. It is,” Reese said firmly.

  “Sorry. Since you say this book really is the end of the series—”

  “You’re doubting me?”

  “No, honey, I’m not. But I’ve told you before—I’ve learned to wait and see with you.”

  Reese sighed. “Whatever.”

  “If the series ends, you’ll write something else. Maybe you’ll take a break, travel or something. Rest. And then you’ll be called back to that keyboard. I’m not worried about you. What you do isn’t a hobby.”

  Reese nodded. Jesus, Chad knew him way too fucking well. Reese’s writing wasn’t really a choice at all; it was an imperative. He couldn’t remember a time in his life that he hadn’t been writing something. “You’re not worried about your paycheck?”

  “No, honey. I am not worried about my paycheck. I have faith in you.”

  Reese smiled. “Thanks, Chad.”

  “So, okay, how are you going to deal with this fear of ending it so you can actually do it?”

  “Same thing I always do. I’m going to sit down at my computer with my ideas about how things should go, and if I run into issues, Harris wi
ll tell me what’s next.” As if Reese could do it any other way. Either the words would come or they wouldn’t. His anxiety about it would hardly even factor in.

  “Did you tell Harris you’re finished? That this is your last one?”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Well, it only seems polite.”

  “Okay, okay, Chad. He’s not real. I know that. He’s a character. A voice. I’m not losing my mind.”

  He hoped, though he’d had his moments. When he really got lost in his writing, when his writing transitioned from inspired to imperative, sure. He could hear Harris, get caught up in Harris’s emotions. The horrors his killers created felt like more than just images in his mind.

  He sipped his beer while Chad launched into an information session on what was on his calendar for the rest of the month. He was barely listening. He’d show up and do whatever Chad told him he had to show up and do. He really didn’t like any of it, but it was a necessary evil, and he trusted Chad to take care of it.

  “So, then I figure we can run off to Fiji and elope.”

  “Okay.” Wait. Fiji?

  “Owen might object.”

  “Sorry. What about Owen?”

  “Reese! You’re not listening to anything I’m saying. I’m crushed.”

  He laughed. “No, I’m sorry. You know this PR stuff isn’t my thing, Chad.”

  “You’re hopeless. It’s lucky for you that I’m good at my job.”

  “Okay, so, we have a burger.” The server put the burger down in front of Chad, and Chad picked it up and moved it to in front of Reese. “And, oh, sorry. And a chicken sandwich. Need anything? Vinegar for the fries? Refills?”

  “I’ll take another Stella, Luke.” The server was good-looking, and Reese smiled at him. Luke smiled back. Chad looked between them.

  “Whoa, belay that order. Two ginger ales, please.” Luke nodded and moved away.

  Reese scowled at Chad. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Chad laughed. “The first rule of being an author presenting at a convention is you don’t get drunk. Second rule? You don’t smile at the waitstaff while your hot boyfriend is sexting you.”

  “Hm.” Chad had a good point. Two good points, in fact. Reese figured he needed some food in his stomach, and he took a huge bite of his burger. He made a few yummy noises and swallowed. “Oh, this is fabulous. Perfect.” It was perfect, and he was so hungry.

  Chad nodded and finished chewing. “So, tomorrow you speak right after lunch, and then you’re done.”

  Reese raised an eyebrow. “That’s it for the day?”

  “Yes. Then you can hang out and be a fan. Get in some face time.”

  Reese thought about that as he shoveled in his burger. Face time meant signing things, talking with fans, supporting some of his fellow authors. He could handle that for a few hours. Maybe even find a souvenir for Owen. “Sounds good.”

  They ate almost in silence, both of them clearly tired and a little muzzy. Reese was enjoying it, just buzzed enough to really relax. Eventually, Chad pulled out a credit card and waved to Luke. Reese recognized it as the card he’d given Chad for business expenses. “Dinner on you, huh?” he joked.

  Chad snorted. “Of course not. I’m working!”

  “How much was that sandwich?”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Luke swept by them, picking up the card. “I’ll be right back.”

  Chad looked at Reese. “No booze in your room.”

  Reese pretended to pout.

  “You’re speaking at one thirty. If I haven’t heard from you, I will track you down by noon so you can eat something first and get a shower. I have your second keycard, don’t forget.”

  Chad always carried a keycard to Reese’s hotel rooms. Reese had to admit it was reasonable, given his tendency toward writing benders. It was amazing the number of events Reese had almost missed. There was once a time when he was offended, but he’d learned better. He’d legitimately earned the mistrust.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” Luke said, bringing the check back for Chad to sign. He slipped a book in front of Reese. “I hate to ambush you, Mr. Kelsey, but do you think you could….” He held out a pen.

  Reese smiled, actually surprised that more people hadn’t interrupted their dinner. “Of course, Luke.” He slid the book closer and grinned at the cover of Don’t Drink the Water. “The first one. Nice.”

  “I have all the others too, of course, but this one is still my favorite.” Luke smiled at Reese again. He was a handsome young man, somewhere in his twenties, athletic-looking. Hot.

  “Mine too.” Reese signed the book and handed it back with a smile. “There you go.”

  “Thanks so much, Mr. Kelsey. Have a great night.”

  “Thank you, Luke.”

  Chad snorted as Luke walked away.

  “What? I hardly ever get fanboys!” Reese grinned and pushed back from the table. “So I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “You don’t need fanboys anymore.” Chad put a finger on Reese’s cell phone and pushed it toward him. “You have a good night.”

  Reese grinned and picked up his phone. “Plan to.” He winked at Chad. “Good night.”

  THE HOTEL lobby was bustling, and Reese had no hope of getting an elevator to himself, but there was no way he was walking up over thirty flights of stairs after stuffing himself with a cheeseburger either. He waited impatiently for an elevator to arrive, trying to remain just one more body in the crowd.

  One did finally arrive, and he managed to squeeze on. He couldn’t reach the buttons himself, though. Dammit. “Thirty-four please,” he said quietly to a woman who was pressed into that corner of the elevator. He was still trying to maintain a low profile. He should have known better than to open his mouth.

  “Oh, you’re Reese Kelsey!” someone behind him called out, just as the elevator doors closed in his face.

  Trapped.

  Damn.

  Nearly everyone had followed him off the elevator, and a half an hour later he was finally heading back to his room. He had signed everything from flyers to autograph books to bare shoulders. He’d answered twenty gazillion questions with as friendly a smile as he could muster, and then he’d managed to get away. Thank God for the tequila buzz or he might not have made it through. Chad would be proud of him.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket, not interested in waiting another minute to talk to Owen, and slipped his keycard into the slot to open his door. He was immediately treated to the picture Owen had sent him earlier, and he licked his lips. “Oh. You are such a bad boy,” he said to the air as his hotel room door closed behind him.

  Are you home yet? he texted Owen.

  Not yet just leaving rhrsl did u like my pic?

  “Rhrsl is a thing now too?” Reese sighed. I loved your picture. I’d like to lick it, actually.

  So come home.

  I wish. He did. Abstinence made the cock grow harder. Jesus, that picture of Owen’s beautiful appendage was plenty of foreplay; he was already so hard with the anticipation of listening to his lover come. Reese toed his shoes off and threw his phone on the bed. He tugged his shirt over his head and grabbed a bottle of water from next to the TV, only noticing after he’d opened it that the damn thing was going to cost him five bucks. “Fucking rip-off,” he muttered.

  There was a chime, and Reese picked his phone up again.

  Send me one

  Send you one what?

  A pic you idiot

  Reese held up his phone, gave the camera a big grin, and took a quick selfie.

  Cheese!

  He sent the picture to Owen already knowing the reaction he was going to get.

  Hot. U even took ur shirt off can’t wait to jack off to that one

  Reese laughed. He tossed the phone on the bed again and finished undressing, then climbed up into the sheets. Some part of Reese reminded him to be cautious, even if he did trust Owen. He had a public image to manage, after all. He picked up the phone and angled it just so, getting a decent
shot down the length of his body, his hungry erection the obvious centerpiece.

  Ohhhh nice I so want that. Hey wait a minute is that u or a twink u picked up at the bar?

  Oh, that hurt my feelings. Just for that I’m going to start without you. Reese was joking for now, but damn, if Owen didn’t hurry it up, he really might. God, he ached.

  No no don’t! be home soon! Im staying at ur place 2night shorter trip and I have to practice tmrrw

  Yeah? Hurry the fuck up. 5…4…3….

  no no hang on cab just up the block wait for me

  Better be quick! A piece of Reese that he was utterly unable to shut off noted that Owen’s texting skills had further eroded to a complete lack of punctuation and capital letters. Breaking the rules of grammar could be hot in the right hands. Mmmm. Hands. He used his free hand to roam over his chest, teasing. He pinched and twisted one of his nipples, loving how that always shot bolts of need right to his cock. Fuck, remember the night Owen figured that out? For two solid days after, every shirt he wore made them ache.

  He groaned. That train of thought was not helping him stay patient. He sat up a bit in bed and got more comfortable, waiting for his phone to ring. When it finally did, Owen was breathing hard, like he’d run all the way from the cab. “Hey. Please tell me you waited.”

  “Of course I waited. It’s been very difficult, though, and I think you should thank me.” Reese put the phone on speaker and set it on the nightstand. He heard Owen snort on the other end.

  “Oh yeah? I should be grateful that you left me all alone to sleep in this porn-set bed without you?”

  “Hey, my bed is not a porn set.”

  “Nothing says ‘tie me down and fuck me’ like a heavy mahogany four-poster, lover.”

  He honestly hadn’t ever thought about that until now. What was the matter with him? “Hm. I like that image.”

  “I’ll remind you when you get home.”

  “Do that,” Reese growled. His cock liked that image too; it was full and heavy and dark. “What are you doing right now? I’m so hard, babe.”

  “I’m almost undressed. Wait for it. There. I’m completely naked, and I’m leaning on the edge of your bed.”