Brewer mutters something under his breath before uncapping the water bottle and drinking half of it before starting on the banana. “You happy now?”
Tank leans in and kisses him. “Get used to it.”
I watch in stunned silence as Tank walks back out of the room, Brewer staring after him like a lovesick fool.
Pixie giggles. “And that’s why Brewer now loves having a boyfriend.”
I shake my head, not sure what to say. It does seem nice, what the two of them have. If only.
22
Jackson
I’m not doing well this morning at the shoot. I’m fumbling my lines, missing cues, and creating a whole reel of bloopers and mistakes. Patrick, the director, is growing more and more frustrated.
“I’m not sure what crawled up your ass this morning, but you damn well better get your head screwed on right, Jackson,” he snaps at me right before the lunch break.
“I’m sorry,” I say, biting my tongue to hold back the sir he hates so much. “I’ll do better.”
He gives me a curt nod, then stalks off.
“Trouble in paradise?” Ethan asks as I take my usual spot across from him.
I chose a salad for lunch, but it’s a sad affair, really, with browning lettuce drowned in too much dressing. “I don’t rightly know,” I say, feeling miserable.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I had the impression I was interrupting something last night.”
“Can we not talk about this?” I try.
Ethan grins. “Oh my dear boy, that dog won’t hunt, as Rick would say. You can’t clam up on me now. Come on, tell me what’s wrong.”
I let out another one of those deep sighs that seem to originate in my very soul. Man, I’ve got it bad. “Cameron may have been close to kissin’ me,” I admit.
Ethan raises an eyebrow. “And why would you feel mopey about that?”
I push back the salad. My stomach isn’t interested in food right now. “Because he’s makin’ me so confused. He’s not hot and cold, exactly, but he’s giving off all these mixed signals, and I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Ethan covers my hand with his in a sweet gesture. “Jackson, he’s giving off mixed signals because he is confused. He has to be. If he’s doing gay porn while thinking he’s straight, that’s gotta mess with his head. And then with you in the mix and the obvious attraction he feels for you, he’s gotta be in knots inside.”
There’s nothing but warmth in his eyes, and it settles me. “You think he’s attracted to me?”
Ethan removes his hand and sends me a big smile. “Kid, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’s smitten, he just doesn’t know it yet.”
The hope that I had before roars back up inside me. “So what do I do?”
“Wait. He’s gotta be ready, so all you can do is wait, and be there for him when that lightbulb comes on.”
Wait. I can do that, I think. Especially now that Ethan says he sees it too, the chemistry between us. I feel lighter now, my faith restored, and after lunch, I nail the most difficult scene of this episode in a single take.
When I come home, Cameron is spread out on the couch, looking ten kinds of exhausted. He helped Brewer move today, so we both didn’t get much sleep.
“Hey,” I say, a little cautious.
We managed to pretend the whole almost-kiss didn’t happen this morning when we stumbled into the kitchen in search of coffee, both barely awake, but I’m not sure if that’s how he wants to play it.
“How did shooting go today?” he asks. Okay then, pretending it is.
“Started off a little crappy but things improved after lunch.”
“Oh, good. Sorry, I didn’t go grocery shopping. I stopped by my mom’s real quick and I was too tired after.”
I shrug. “It’s fine. We can grab something if you want? Or order in?”
“I’m in the mood for a burger,” he says, and my mouth instantly waters.
I haven’t had a burger in forever, too cautious with what I eat. But now that he mentions it, I’m craving one. “I’m in. What’s a good place to get a burger here?”
He looks at me as if I’m mad. “In-N-Out, of course,” he says.
“Okay, never been to one. And they have good burgers?” I double-check. Hey, I’m Texan. I take burgers seriously. Well, all meat, really.
“Dude, there’s nothing like it.”
After high praise like that, my expectations are high, so color me surprised when it’s a regular chain-restaurant, not looking all that different from a McDonald’s. Cameron’s face is glowing though, so I keep my mouth shut as he orders something off the secret menu, as he calls it. I have no earthly idea why a restaurant would wanna keep a menu secret, but what do I know? It’s California, people. And they say Texans are weird.
“What are we eating again?” I ask as I look at my food, a thick burger with what looks like grilled onions on it, as well a massive load of cheese, and fries smothered in even more cheese and with a weird, pinkish sauce on top.
“Animal style burger and animal style fries with their secret sauce. There’s about ten thousand calories in there, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s so good.”
The look on Cameron’s face as he bites into his burger is pure bliss, much like he looked in that video with Pixie, but nope, I’m not going there. Gotta keep my eyes on the ball.
I try a few fries, and I have to admit that sauce is amazing, though combined with the cheese it’s a bit heavy.
“Oh my god, this is seriously the best burger ever,” Cameron says with his mouth full, so I take a bite out of mine as well.
It’s rich, the cheese, and I like the combination with the onions, but the burger itself is nothing more than okay. Honestly, I’ll take a bacon-and-cheese Whataburger over this any day, but I’m smart enough not to spoil his fun.
He even ordered us a milkshake, and I gotta admit, that is fantastic. I’m gonna have to spend an extra half hour in the gym tomorrow to train this off, but it’s worth it to see Cameron this happy.
He finishes off his food to the very last fry. “Man, is that amazing or what?”
I’m not big on lying, but I can’t spoil this for him. “Best burger I’ve had in months,” I say, which is technically true.
Just before we get into the car, he reaches for my hand. “Jackson, are we good?”
There’s so much insecurity in his look that it hits me deep. Ethan was right. He is confused, and it’s gotta be messing with his head. I can’t push him and make it worse. And so I grab his hand and squeeze it.
“We’re good, Cam. Better than ever. Let’s go home.”
23
Campy
“Hey, Campy, you want to go out and grab a drink?” Pixie asks as I’m pulling my pants on after a shoot with one of the not-so-regular guys, Otter.
“Oh, hey, I didn’t even know you were around today,” I say as I fasten the button on my jeans. “Are you scheduled to film this afternoon?”
“No, I had to swing by and talk to Bear. But he’s in a meeting with some dude, who is hot as fuck by the way.”
“Some dude?” I ask, cocking my head before pulling my shirt on. “A new hire, you think? I know Bear and Rebel have been interviewing.”
“I don’t think so. He’s older and I overheard them talking business. It sounded like he might be starting his own studio or something? I don’t know. All I know is he’s a silver fox, and he apparently goes by the name Daddy, which so fits him.” Pixie’s eyes glaze over a little and I’d bet money he’s enjoying a little fantasy about whoever this Daddy man is.
“Do you need a minute alone?” I tease, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“No,” he replies, rolling his eyes at me. “So, drink?”
I bite my lip, trying to decide how to answer. It’s rare for me to hang out one-on-one with any of the guys but any time I do, I seem to have trouble keeping myself from spilling my secrets. And lately I’ve been so desperate for someone to talk to, I’m n
ot sure I can trust myself if Pixie were to push like Heart did a few weeks ago.
“Come on, I don’t bite,” he prompts.
“I had a sore nipple last week that said otherwise.”
Pixie lets out an adorable little giggle that breaks down my defenses like no one else can ever seem to.
“All right, fine,” I agree reluctantly.
“Want to go to Bottoms Up or somewhere more low-key?”
“Wherever.” I shrug, not much caring either way. Pixie opts for chips and margaritas at a Mexican place down the street from Ballsy Boys studios.
“So, why the sudden desire to hang out with me?” I ask with forced lightness.
“Is it a crime to want to hang out with a coworker?” he counters.
“No, I’m just not used to being the one anyone asks to hang out with.”
“Only because you give off a serious back off vibe. None of us are ever sure if you want us to leave you alone or what.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling like a bit of a dick for how I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length.
“You’ve seemed kinda distracted lately, maybe a little down? We’ve all been worried about you,” he confesses.
“Great.” I groan in embarrassment. “You guys have been sitting around talking about what a wounded little bird I must be?”
“Not at all,” he assures me. “I just thought maybe you’d like someone to talk to. But even if you don’t, at least we can both get drunk on margaritas and eat a bunch of tacos.”
I chuckle. “I like the way you think.”
We reach the restaurant and I hold the door open for Pixie. When we get a table, we waste no time ordering drinks, along with chips and salsa.
“So, let’s start with the good stuff,” Pixie suggests once the server walks away. “You were totally lying about Jackson being straight, right? How’s your cowboy in bed?”
I choke on a sip of water I just took and have to cough into a napkin to clear it from my lungs.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh please.” Pixie rolls his eyes again. “You two were throwing serious vibes at each other. And we both know he damn well flirted with me, and that he’s not straight. Are you really telling me you haven’t fucked? Ooo, is this one of those really steamy slow-burn-type things?” he asks excitedly.
“My life is not a romance novel, Pix.” I laugh and shake my head. “Jackson’s a good guy, but I’m not—” I bite my tongue to cut myself off and Pixie eyes me curiously.
“You’re not what? Not into him? Not looking for a boyfriend? Not sure he’d be okay dating someone in porn?” he lists off a number of possible concerns, and it would be easy to pick any one and let the conversation end with that. But for some reason, I really want to tell him the truth.
“I’m not gay,” I blurt out.
It’s clear by the way Pixie’s eyes get huge and his mouth falls open that out of any possible excuse in the world, that was the last one he expected to hear. But after he recovers from his surprise, he starts to laugh. Not his normal little giggle, and not an awkward laugh one might expect when faced with such news. No, it’s a full-on clutching-his-stomach, red-in-the-face, guffaw.
“Oh my god, that was too funny. You’re not usually that funny,” he says, wiping away tears and trying to catch his breath.
“I’m not joking, Pix.”
“Okay, fine. So you’re bi, how is that a reason not to date Jackson?”
“Listen to me. I. Don’t. Like. Guys.” I say each word slowly so he’ll understand what I’m getting at.
“Um, yeah, you do,” he responds confidently. “Sweetie, you’re the best actor out of all of us, but no one is that good of an actor.”
“The sex we have on set is a job, nothing more. I don’t feel anything for any of you guys.”
He shrugs, taking his drink when the server approaches and sets them down in front of us, not a moment too soon either. I’m going to need all the tequila this side of Mexico to get through this conversation.
“I don’t feel anything for any of you guys either. But that sure as shit doesn’t make me straight.”
“I’ve never had feelings for a man though. Fine, I find some guys hot on occasion, but that’s just because I’m secure enough in myself to appreciate how men look sometimes.”
“That’s all well and good, but you do have feelings for your roommate, and as far as I can tell, he’s a man.”
“He is,” I agree. “And I like Jackson a lot. But, I’m not gay. I think if I was, I would’ve realized it before now. I like women.”
Pixie rolls his eyes at me. “Bi erasure much?”
“What?” I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion.
“There are options other than gay and straight,” he says. “There’s pansexual and bisexual too, not to mention a lot of other things that probably don’t really apply here so I won’t get into them.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “I know there are pansexual and bisexual people.”
“So then you know that liking women doesn’t necessarily mean you’re straight.”
I roll the information over in my head for a few seconds. For all my condescension, it hadn’t occurred to me before that maybe I’m not entirely straight, but that might not mean I’m gay. Sure, I’ve had a lot of sex with men, but that’s all been professional. I don’t want Tank, Brewer, Pixie, Rebel, or Heart. I don’t mind fucking them or getting fucked by them, but at the end of the day, it’s nothing more than a paycheck. Then Jackson came along and completely fucked up my head. Not that it’s his fault, but damn is it inconvenient.
“I can see the wheels turning, so I’m going to leave you to sort that out,” Pixie says with a cheeky smile. “If you have any questions or need someone to talk to after you think through everything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Pix.”
“Anytime,” he assures me, giving me a kiss on the cheek before changing the subject to idle gossip and small talk.
Pixie’s words sit heavy on my mind the rest of the night and follow me all the way home. Bi erasure. I’m not even sure I know what that is. For as much contact as I have with gay men day in and day out, I don’t know much about a lot of the issues in the LGBT community.
Feeling annoyed by how much Pixie’s simple sentence has fucked with my head, I grab my phone off my nightstand, rolling onto my back and holding it above my face, and type in bi erasure.
It turns out it’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like, the tendency in both the straight and gay communities to ignore the existence of bisexuality. I bristle at the implication. I know being bisexual is a thing. Okay, so maybe I’ve always sort of figured you’re either more one way or the other, rather than being completely fifty-fifty with liking both, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
An article titled “Myths About Bisexuality” catches my eye in the search results, so I click it.
Myth 1: To be bisexual you must like both men and women EQUALLY
Reality: Even if you’re only attracted to the same sex on occasion and otherwise see yourself as straight (or vice versa), that doesn’t mean you aren’t bisexual.
I grumble a little at how quickly that damn article undermined my entire view of bisexuality. I take a second to think about it. I like women, that has never been in dispute. But is it possible there’s something to the fact that I was so willing to go into gay porn? How quickly I got comfortable having sex with men, and, if I’m being honest with myself, started to enjoy it? And then there’s this whole thing with Jackson. It’s obvious I have some kind of feelings for him, but does that mean I’m bi? Maybe I like Jackson as a good friend and my brain is confused because of all the men I have sex with?
I groan and toss my phone aside. I don’t care if I am bi, but I hate feeling so confused. Confused about my feelings for Jackson, overwhelmed by my life, completely fucking drowning at this moment.
I sit up with a gasp, trying to catch my breath as my lungs seem to squeeze more tightly.
/> There’s a rap at my door and I drag in a breath.
“Yeah?” I rasp. The door swings open and Jackson looks at me with concern before rushing over to kneel beside me.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle. “Deep breaths, Cameron, come on now.” His large hand rubs slow circles on my back and I manage to pull in a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out.
“Sorry,” I mutter once I have my breathing under control.
“It’s okay, I’m glad I came in here to check if you were hungry. What happened?”
“Panic attack, I think?”
“I figured that, I meant what caused it?”
I manage to lift my gaze, meeting his for the first time since he rushed to my rescue. His eyes are soft and full of concern, his normally crooked smile fixed into a frown instead. There’s a worry line between his eyebrows that I reach out and smooth before I can think better of it.
“I don’t think I’m straight,” I confess, barely above a whisper, and just like that, the crooked grin is back.
“I kinda figured that too, Cam.”
I’m not sure what possesses me to do it, but before I know it, I’m leaning forward and pressing our lips together. Jackson gasps against my mouth, tensing and then melting into the kiss, his lips molding to mine as his hand moves from my back to my neck, gently holding me in place. The stubble on his chin rubs my skin a little raw, and the spicy scent of his soap lingers on him, making my mouth water. Our lips move together, testing, exploring, answering questions I was too afraid to ask until now.
Unlike kissing Pixie, or any of the guys I work with, a fizzy, hot feeling bubbles in my stomach as Jackson’s tongue sweeps over my bottom lip and I part them to let him in. The hot, wet invasion into the depths of my mouth makes my cock hard faster than I’ve ever experienced in my life.
I twist my fingers around the front of Jackson’s shirt, tugging him closer, needing to feel more of him. He takes the hint, getting off his knees without breaking the kiss, and pushing me backward on my bed so he can crawl on top of me. The feeling of his large, solid body covering mine sends more sparks crackling along my skin.
Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4) Page 16