The 17-Year-Old Itch

by M. J. O'Shea

  “HEY, HON. Did you have a good day on set today?” Blair was in his tiny adorable kitchen chopping vegetables for a salad.

  Back on the abs diet for all of us….

  Tony shrugged. “It was cool working with Flynn alone. I missed my sidekick, though.” He fake pouted. Well, sort of fake. He’d had so many of his scenes with Blair the previous season that it felt like they were conjoined twins. He liked Flynn a lot, but he’d needed the comfort of his bro behind him. Even if he still hadn’t told Blair what had happened with him and Casey beyond what Blair had already guessed. Tony felt a pit in his belly.

  Blair slung an arm over his shoulders. “I know. It was weird to be here all alone today twiddling my thumbs. I guess most of my scenes are being filmed tomorrow. I’m supposedly MIA for the first little bit of the episode.”

  “Ryder’s always gotta be dramatic.”

  Blair smirked. “I’m so good at it too.” He looked more at Tony. “Seriously. There’s something wrong. Are you going to tell me what it is, or am I going to have to, like, torture it out of you?”

  “Like? Are you sure I’m the one who spent the summer in California?”

  “Are you sure you can really change the subject that easily? Talk.” Blair gave him a long look. It was a little intimidating, seeing he had a huge Ginsu knife in his hand.

  “I will, okay, man? Just not tonight. It’s a little fresh, and I’m not ready to pour the lemon juice and salt on it yet.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yeah. That bad.”

  Chapter Three

  JOEY SLID his backpack over his shoulders and made sure to lock the door to his new Audi—Christmas, care of his father, who’d rather buy his love than actually do anything with his only son. The car was nice, though. Joey wasn’t going to complain. Car or not, he wasn’t likely to get a big dose of fatherly love any time soon, so he might as well have it.

  “Look at you,” a voice called over the noise. Joey zipped up his hoodie. It was freezing—well, freezing for them at least. Under seventy. He wasn’t going to get any surfing in that day.

  “Hey, Ryder. How was Christmas?” Joey bumped shoulders with him. “Nice job on the fashionably late entrance.” School had been back in for four days. Ryder had strolled in that morning.

  “Gotta stay fabulous.” Ryder shrugged. “Paris, then skiing at Courcheval and Zermatt? Can’t complain.” He looked as designer as usual. And about as happy as usual too, which was not really. Joey felt bad for Ryder. He knew firsthand that money couldn’t buy love. Or happiness. He also knew Ryder had probably spent a lot of time wandering around Paris alone while his father romanced his new thirty-year-old girlfriend. It couldn’t have been fun, no matter how much he swung his new Chanel tote around and acted like everything was perfect.

  “Ready for more fun times?” Joey asked. He was a year younger than the others, but he’d been put in a few of their classes. Everyone had been surprised. People tended to underestimate him. “You didn’t miss much the first couple of days. Same old crap.”

  “Yay.” Ryder rolled his eyes.

  They saw Mack walking in, eyes to the ground. Kelly wasn’t with him, which was weird in itself. Or at least it had been. Nobody had seen Mack without Kelly for months, and then all of a sudden, they came back from break all silent and moody. They stayed at least fifty feet from each other. Joey elbowed Ryder. He figured he’d know what was going on. “What’s that all about?”

  Ryder simply shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t turn on international service while I was gone. I didn’t want to deal with anyone over the holidays.”

  Joey was surprised. Things must’ve gotten weird for Ryder for him to break off all communication. Joey’d figured Ryder had constant tabs on everyone all break like he usually did. It was hard to imagine him letting all that control just float away. Maybe he had something to do with whatever went down between Mack and Kelly and he felt guilty about it. Joey wouldn’t be shocked. He schooled his face into a smile.

  “I bet that was relaxing.”

  Ryder shrugged again. Something was up with him. Joey just didn’t quite know what it was. He figured he had the rest of the day, if not the rest of the school year, to figure it out….

  “HEY, B, do you want me to chop the fruit for the fruit salad?” Tony called from Blair’s quaint kitchen. It seemed like one of them was always in there, prepping the never-ending array of vegetables and fruits that filled their diet during the filming season.

  Tony was happy to be in board shorts and a tank top. All day he’d been sweltering in wardrobe suited for mild-weathered January, which was where season two of the show picked up. But of course, the reality of August in the Keys was a very different story weatherwise. He’d been about ready to rip every last expensive thread off his body by the time he’d gotten to wardrobe. He’d taken the secure exit off the lot. He loved their fans, but they were thick at the entrance already, and he’d been wound up and exhausted. He promised himself he’d stop for autographs later in the week.

  “Yeah, that would be cool. Can you finish the balsamic dressing too?”

  Tony chuckled. “Giving me too many responsibilities. You know I can’t cook.”

  “Don’t put anything in it!” Blair called. He sounded a little panicked. “I did everything. You just have to shake it and put it on the salad.”

  “Don’t worry. I only added a couple ingredients. You’ll like it.” Tony smiled to himself. Not ten seconds later, Blair jogged into the kitchen. “You’re so easy,” Tony said.

  “Dickhead.” Blair chuckled.

  Tony couldn’t imagine Blair from a year ago calling anyone a dickhead, joking or not. Tony figured he’d done good work.

  “Hey, big T. Wanna help me with the hotdogs?” Sander asked through the window. Blair’s boyfriend was big and blond and super hot. Tony would never, though. Even if Sander was his type. Little too young for Tony’s taste. Even before….

  “Do you like your eyebrows?” he called back.

  Sander snorted.

  THE CAST barbecue was fun. He was tired from being up at fuck even knows what time, but it was awesome to see all his friends back in one place, other than sitting around a conference table doing read-throughs with giant coffees in their hands and bags under their eyes.

  “Tonyyyy!” A tiny body catapulted herself onto his back.

  Tony chuckled. “Hey, Lizard. Are you drunk already?”

  Lizzie giggled and slid down his back. Her red curls were already huge in the Key West humidity. She bitched and moaned most days about how long it took Eugenia to tame it. On her off days, she usually didn’t give a shit unless they were being photographed somewhere “casually.” Tony hoped like hell those random fake-casual outings didn’t multiply along with the popularity of the show. He didn’t want to become a character in his own real life.

  “I only had one hurricane and two mojitos.” Lizzie smacked a kiss on his cheek. It was sweet, if a little sloppy.

  “And how much dinner did you have?” Tony chuckled, a little wearily. He loved Lizzie to death, but he, Blair, and Jenna had pulled her out of the Pirate’s Booty more than once when she got a little too boisterous.

  “Ummm, a handful of chips?”

  Tony wrapped his arm around her waist. “Let’s go get you some bread.”

  “I’m allergic to gluten,” Lizzie said. She resisted when Tony steered her toward the buffet table that was in the corner of Blair’s tiny beachside backyard.

  “Since when?” Tony asked.

  Lizzie pouted. “Since my wardrobe from last season was too tight. I have to drop ten pounds.”

  “Starting tomorrow, okay? Right now, you need to soak up some of that alcohol.”

  They made their way over to the table.

  “Is Lushy Lizzie drunk already?” Howie sneered.

  Fuck that. Tony got to be exasperated when she drank too much. He was her friend, and friends were allowed to be a tiny bit annoyed. Howie wasn’t Lizzie’s friend. H
e could fuck the fuck off.

  “Back away, Morasco,” Tony growled. “Lizzie’s tired, and she doesn’t need your nasty negative energy. None of us do.”

  He was surprised when, instead of Howie’s usual snark, his eyes went a little sad. For a moment at least. Then he just rolled them and walked away. Tony was confused but decided to count it as a win.

  “Look at you. You brought down the wicked witschh.” Lizzie slumped against Tony’s side, giggling softly to herself. “Witsch… wish. Witchy wish.” She hummed.

  Tony sat her on one of Blair’s garden chairs and put together a sandwich and some chips and guacamole. He grabbed a bottle of water to be safe.

  “C’mere, babe. We need to get this in you before you puke.”

  “I don’t like pickles,” she muttered.

  “There aren’t any pickles on your sandwich. It’s just cheese and tomatoes.”

  “I’m a vegan.”

  No, you’re borderline anorexic. Tony didn’t say anything. Diet obsession was kind of part of the business for a lot of the girls, and guys too, if they wanted to be the hot-stuff lead and not the pudgy sidekick. It really wasn’t his business what she did—at least it wasn’t unless her food issue got to the point where he’d have to make it his business. He still put the sandwich in her hand.

  “Take a bite. You really need to if you don’t want to feel like death in the morning.”

  “’Kay.”

  Tony watched Lizzie down the sandwich and her chips and guacamole before he guided her into his room and put her on her side on his bed. He put his wastebasket next to her, just to be safe.

  Guess I’m on the sofa tonight.

  Tony was in the middle of closing his door as silently as possible when he ran into a wall of very-familiar-scented man. Again. They’d had another awkward run-in on set earlier. Twice in one day couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Tony’s pulse sped and his palms got all sweaty. He hated himself for reacting. He just wanted to be over it. He put his hands against Casey’s chest, ready to push. An electric thrill raced up and down his spine, the same shiver-inducing thrill that hit him every time he and Casey touched. It fucked him up. Tony tried to pull away. The last thing he needed was another humiliating encounter fueled by the lust he couldn’t seem to shake.

  “Are you okay?” Casey asked. Tony wished he didn’t sound quite so worried.

  “’M fine.” Tony didn’t want to answer him, get into a conversation, anything that might mean they’d make eye contact and everything that had gone down before he’d taken off last spring would come flying to the surface.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Lizzie got a little excited with the punch. I put her in my bed to sleep it off.” Tony finally looked up, and fuck damn. There it was. There he was. His skin was still that sexy weathered tan, dusted with freckles, creased with a few tiny laugh lines. His hair was curly and bleached by the sun or Eugenia’s masterful hands—the effect was still the same. He looked like he’d just gotten off a safari or his tour with the surf masters. Whatever. It fucking sucked how much Tony wanted to rip his clothes off and taste for hours.

  “Hey, you need a place to stay since Lizzie took your bed? You can come over to my house.”

  At least that was enough to remind him, to take all that confusing lust and turn it into blasting humiliated scorn.

  “You sure about that, Casey? Someone could take it the wrong way. They might think you’re fucking me. Oh, wait….”

  Tony made a face and pushed past Casey in the hallway. He was barely cool enough not to look back.

  He wasn’t cool enough to return to the party right away. Instead, he slipped out the front door and took a long, slow walk up and down the block trying to forget the way Casey tasted. Trying to remind himself that no matter how good they felt, it didn’t end well and it couldn’t start again.

  TONY WAS just about to pass out when he heard a quiet knock on the door of his hotel room. He thought most of the cast had gone to the Pirate’s Booty to celebrate the episode airing to good reviews the night before, but Tony hadn’t been in the mood. He had a big headache and was hot and really just wanted a night to chill out and not be in a crowd.

  He got up and dragged himself to the door. He figured it was Lizzie. She wasn’t amazing at taking no for an answer. Tony turned the handle and pulled his door open, ready to protest.

  “Liz—” It wasn’t Lizzie. It was Casey. “Um, hello?” Tony and Casey had had a few pleasant but light encounters since the day of “the touch.” He figured it was in the past and in his head and he should just forget about it. Too bad that was a lot harder than it should be.

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “Just chilling.” Tony tried to sound relaxed. He was anything but. “I figured you went to the bar with the rest of the cast.”

  “Not really in the mood. It isn’t my scene anyway, I’d rather just sit on the beach and have some quiet.”

  Tony chuckled. “The beach? Almost forgot there was one here. Haven’t had a chance to go see it.”

  “Would the pool be close enough? It’s deserted. I have a sixer. Guy at the shop said it was good.”

  All thoughts of a nap disappeared. “I can stick my feet in,” Tony said. “And I could definitely use a drink.”

  Casey stepped aside and made room for Tony to pass. “Let’s go before the rest of them come back.”

  THE POOL was refreshing, and refreshingly quiet after the day he’d had. It should’ve been relaxing to hang out in the palms. It would’ve been if he wasn’t sitting on the side of the pool with his arm so close to Casey’s he could feel the heat from Casey’s skin. Sometimes Tony wondered if he was just like the high school kid he was playing all day.

  “So how’s life as Coconut Cove’s newest dad?” Tony asked.

  Casey chuckled. “Preppy.”

  Tony had seen him around the set in khaki shorts and button-down madras. It was definitely preppy.

  “You getting into the character?”

  Casey nodded. “So far it’s mostly dad jokes and witty repartee with Flynn. It’s just nice to be working.”

  “What’d you do before this?”

  “A few stints on soaps, some theater. Nothing notable. I think my agent was about to drop me.”

  “Not anymore, right?”

  Casey shrugged. “We’ll see how this goes. It’s always pretty precarious, though.”

  Tony sighed. “This is my last-ditch effort. If it doesn’t work, I’m moving to Montana, working for my grandpa. I haven’t really told anyone that. Don’t want them to smell fear.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  THEY SAT for a while in quiet silence, sipped beers that were decent if not amazing, and kicked at the water. Tony tried not to notice how close he was to Casey, or how the tiny bit of distance seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.

  Casey nudged Tony with his shoulder. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  Tony thought it might be easier to show than tell. He leaned over slowly, slowly and brushed his lips across Casey’s. Casey didn’t jump up or run away; he leaned in as well, deepened the kiss. Tony reached up and ran his fingers through Casey’s short hair. He missed the curls, missed being able to touch them since he never got the opportunity. It didn’t matter. His belly melted, and he shivered at the thought that it was Casey.

  Casey pulled away slowly. He smiled and wiped Tony’s lip gently with his thumb. “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured.

  “Why? I’ve wanted to kiss you since the second I saw you.” Tony realized he probably shouldn’t have admitted that. Not exactly the way to play it cool.

  Casey thumbed across his lip again, though, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. “Then I guess we’re even. It’s just work, and….”

  “I get it.”

  They were all still only a few weeks into this job, and the show had literally aired one episode. It probably wasn’t the time for romance. It was quiet for a while
. The seconds stretched out awkwardly. Tony kicked at the water. All he really wanted was another kiss. He leaned over and nudged Casey’s shoulder with his own.

  “You wish you’d gone to the bar now?” Tony asked.

  Casey gave him one of those looks, the ones that made Tony feel melty and about fifteen years old at the same time. “Of course not,” he said. “I want to be right here.”

  “YOU OKAY?” It was the second time in minutes someone had asked him that. Instead of Casey, it was Jenna, a much more welcome face. He’d slipped back into the yard after his quick cool down and was ready to face humans again. Just not that one if at all possible.

  “Yeah, I’m cool. I needed a breather for a second. I deposited our little redheaded friend in my room to pass out. She’ll be fine in the morning.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “I hope she doesn’t have an early morning call. Do you?”

  Tony chuckled. “No. If I had, she’d be in Blair’s room right now. I’m okay on the sofa. I don’t film tomorrow.”

  “Well, I’m boyfriend free for a few weeks, so you can always crash in my guest bedroom if you want.”

  “That’s sweet, babe, but all my stuff’s here. Easier to crash in the living room. Where’s Brad?”

  “With his mom in Europe. Must be tough.”

  Jenna had met this guy the year before at one of their publicity events. He’d turned out to be some society prince and heir to a mountain of money. Tony wasn’t even a tiny bit jealous. Of course, he was actually a really sweet guy, and Jenna deserved that. Tony thought he did too. Maybe someday when he got over a certain pain in the ass who already seemed to be over him.

  Speak of the devil.

  Casey came from inside the house. He had a huge scowl on his face. He stopped and said something quietly to Blair, then left without another word through the gate on the side of the house.