Christian had led her to believe he was in love with her and that maybe someday they’d make it official. He’d met her family and got along with all of them. Their relationship had all the trappings of forever and yet, the entire time he was never truly with her. She was convenient. She completed his story. She deserved better.
“Kat,” he breathed, “I wish…”
“I think it’s time you stop wishing and decide what’s really important to you. I can’t even begin to imagine why you would subject yourself to an existence that satisfies only a single aspect of what you want in life.” She sniffed and swiped at the tears on her face with her fingers in that way that made his own eyes hurt.
“You say you don’t have feelings for this Kevin guy anymore, but that’s just another lie. If you didn’t care, if you were really happy knowing you’re gay and pretending you’re not because it affects your bottom line, you wouldn’t carry Kevin’s number around in your pocket. And meeting men like this Mark, who call you on your bullshit, wouldn’t matter.”
Christian’s jaw tightened and he could only manage a nod as he hoped the “gay” word wasn’t winging its way through the complex after it left her lips. Hearing him out one time a few hours ago didn’t make Kat an expert on what this was like for him. Christian could admit that his day-to-day wasn’t really steeped in self-exploration and revelation. Having Kat know his asinine secret wasn’t at all liberating like people might think. It was his business. He liked it that way. Breaking off their relationship because it was going nowhere was a foregone conclusion. Telling her why it had stalled out was never the plan. Her way of dealing with this was too much of a let’s-take-a-moment-to-discover-ourselves thing. He didn’t dwell there. He wanted away from it. Immediately, if possible.
“I should get going…” Christian said. “If you ever need anything, you can always call me. I mean that.”
Kat looked more than doubtful but eventually nodded. He was about to shut his door when she called his name. Oh hell, what else?
“I’m not going to talk to anybody about our business—your business—especially Kyle and Trina. Kyle would tear your life apart. You know that don’t you?”
He nodded as the tension he hadn’t realized was balled up in his chest abruptly eased. Christian hadn’t asked her to keep quiet—he hoped she would—but figured he didn’t have the right to ask anything of her. Whispering his thanks, he started his engine and backed out of his spot. Driving away was strange; daunting even. Maybe because the feeling reminded him he could do anything now. Maybe because it reminded him of freedom.
***
The white noise buzzing from Mark’s speakers drifted into his consciousness and he opened his eyes to find he’d never made it to bed but crashed out on the couch instead. His iPod was still sitting in its dock and beyond the fizzling speakers, he couldn’t hear anything. Mark glanced at the clock and rubbed at his eyes, waking up all the way when he remembered what happened the day before. It was barely five in the morning.
Christian was coming into town later today and Mark hadn’t talked to Zane about it or losing his job. It would look really bad if he didn’t say something soon, like he was trying to hide things.
If Zane only knew, though. Every time Mark spoke to Christian, he missed Zane twice as much. He wasn’t trying to be mysterious and he wasn’t trying to make it look like he couldn’t confide in Zane, either. It was simply a case of Christian managing to call at the right time to hear about his day and then dropping his own breakup story on Mark’s lap.
What was Mark supposed to do? Tell the guy thanks for listening and to work his shit out on his own? Real nice. Besides, Christian had been a support of sorts to Mark through this tabloid whirlwind; it was only right that he return the favor when Christian was on the brink of making some life-changing decisions.
Mark would’ve questioned the timing for a visit, but there had been a lot of commercials and talk on the radio about some regional college cheer competition coming up and the company Christian worked for, based in Phoenix, was running the whole thing. Christian was actually coming into town to meet with the reps from ESPN to talk filming and other crap that Mark couldn’t recall right now, mostly because it was so boring it made his eyes roll back in his head. Some of his skepticism had died down, but there was no way he was offering up his guest room to the tall blond.
Mark had learned a lot about Zane during their phone conversations and through his recent cyber stalking of all things Whitlow. Even though Mark was still figuring him out, he was fairly certain his new guy wouldn’t look kindly on Christian staying a hop, skip, and a jump down the hall. No. His house was off limits. No stopping by for a drink. Definitely no quiet dinners with romantic lighting! If he and Christian were going to eat together, it was going to be under fucking Klieg lights. He didn’t want to do something to lose Zane by throwing himself on the doorstep of temptation.
Christian was smart enough not to ask, too, which was a shocker considering the way he refused to take it easy with the innuendos. The younger man would be thoughtful and attentive one minute, and the next he’d come on strong. It was a math equation where flirting was a function of who he was and it was probably how he’d roped a girlfriend into staying with him for two years. The critical factor in seeing Christian tonight was making sure all that concentrated attention didn’t turn Mark’s head.
Mark had seen it plenty in the past with men who adored their partners but some smooth talking, stubbornly persistent man would come along and wear them down; prod at the weak areas until it almost felt right to cheat. The only person who left those situations happy was the guy who got his piece of ass and disappeared, caring little about the demise of any pre-existing relationship he was shredding.
Mark could think of two—no, three—couples that had something like this happen to them. That reminder meant more to Mark now because he was so into Zane and he couldn’t risk allowing the youthful powerhouse that was Christian to distract him from that. Sex with the guy would be wild, and hot, and utterly destructive. It would be best for Mark to wrap the guy in mental caution tape. That’s why he wasn’t picking Christian up at the airport or meeting him in his hotel room. If they were going to try to be friends, then that friendship would be under the white flag and in neutral territory.
And he had to tell Zane. About everything.
Mark’s cell was almost dead, so he grabbed his home phone off the end table and tapped in Zane’s number from memory. It was a little later than when they’d spoken the day before, but he was pretty sure he’d catch Zane out and about.
The gnawing sensation in Mark’ gut as he waited for Zane to pick up was an awful lot like guilt. He knew he should’ve called Zane sooner and he didn’t want to delve into why he’d felt almost triumphant when Christian called before Mark could dial Zane last night.
Had he sunk to a new low? Here he’d pretty much figured he was scraping the bottom of that barrel.
The phone rang through to voicemail and when Zane’s voice told him to leave a message and that he’d get back to him right away, Mark shivered. That low timbre vibrated right through him. Here I am, he thought, just leaving a message on Zane Whitlow’s voicemail again.
Weird.
Mark’s voice was quietly overwhelmed as he left his message, telling Zane he missed him and had a few things he really needed to talk to him about. If he could call back when he got a chance…?
It was only after he showered and was out in the back yard chatting with his neighbor over the fence that he heard his home phone ring. He might’ve yelled something like a goodbye to the nice old lady, but he wouldn’t put money on it. He hurdled an Adirondack chair and scrambled up the back steps and caught the phone on the last ring. Breathing a hello into the receiver, he smiled.
“Hey… Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, no. Not at all,” Mark tried to catch his breath. “I was in the back yard talking with my neighbor. Sorry.”
“I did
n’t expect to hear from you until later in the day. How was work?” Zane sounded all warm and happy and Mark was about to ruin that. Again.
In with both feet!
“Well. If you want to compare it to most of my work days, it was extra eventful, but seeing as how it was my last day, I guess it sort of sucked.”
There was a long pause and Mark knew that eyebrow of Zane’s was probably lifted toward the ceiling. “Come again?”
“I’ve been let go. I mean, I figured shit was gonna hit the fan any time now, but I wasn’t really expecting it quite so soon.” Lame execution, Mark thought.
Zane was clearly shocked and it took another minute for him to formulate more than a few grunted sounds of disbelief. “What—are you—how? What happened?”
Mark told him all the dirty details, trying to be careful about the parts that Zane might try to take responsibility for. He did not want Zane taking blame, so he spent plenty of time on how he was unhappy with Marty as his supervisor and wanted to advance elsewhere within the department, but even after all that fancy song and dance, Zane wasn’t taking the bait.
“Mark, baby, I am so sorry. I-I can’t think of how to fix this—I’m so…” Zane trailed off, sounding like he’d been struck temporarily dumb.
Mark was too stunned by the “baby” endearment to focus on what Zane had said right away. The tender word was so sweet and protective that he sort of started smiling and sinking down lower in the couch until he was a man-shaped cushion. The job loss, the fight with Marty, the embarrassment of leaving work the way he had, it all went misty for a second or two as he basked in the light of that tiny little word.
Color me homo, he thought.
“Leaving this job was bound to happen sooner or later,” Mark finally answered when the brain-fog cleared. “Marty and I didn’t get along that great in the best of times. He thought I was a pushy upstart. I thought, and still think, he’s a dick. I know he’s making up the bullshit about my work going to hell, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the folks there used it as an opportunity to vote me out.” Mark pictured a particularly judgmental dispatcher who shared the love by scowling and whispering behind his back. She was such a sweet little witch. “Yeah, there are definitely some who are thrilled by this I’m sure,” he added.
“What can I do to help?” Zane ignored Mark’s light tone. “The photographers and the tabloid stuff—that’s all because you’re seeing me. I hate that our dating is causing you so much hell— ”
“Zane, hear me out,” Mark interrupted. “I’ll cop to being worried and speechless last night. I’ll even go so far as to say I was scared for a little while there, but this morning, I’m not feeling too bad about it. I have money saved to cover the last two months on this lease and Reid lets me know about job opportunities out in Bakersfield all the time. My family has been wanting to get me back to California since I left, so all in all, the world isn’t crumbling down around me. Maybe I’ll move back…maybe not, but I’m looking at this as a way to find something that fits me even better than watch supervisor.” Mark smiled to himself at how adult and non-whiny he sounded. How very calm and collected of him.
Zane hummed worriedly. “This is my fault; I can pay off your lease… I owe you that at least.” He sounded overcome with remorse—needlessly.
Sure, Mark wouldn’t necessarily have been leaving this job so quickly without the ammunition that a highly public relationship with Zane created, but under conditions like Mark was enduring with Marty, his leaving was an eventuality. Zane’s offer humbled Mark and hearing it brought home how a lot, if not all, of the guys that Zane had dated would have pounced on that money as a perk of the relationship. It was one of several reasons that Mark could never accept the handout.
“Absolutely not, Zane. You don’t owe me anything. This is just a bump in the road. Having you, well, it makes it worth it.” Mark blushed and cleared his throat.
“Mark.” The sound of his name on Zane’s lips was moving. “You know that you could ask me for help if you really needed it, right?”
Mark knew it alright, but he’d be damned if he ever made a monetary request from this man. Zane’s money meant nothing to him and he didn’t want it getting between them and hanging over their heads. “I know,” Mark murmured.
“If you need me there, I can figure out a way to reset my shooting schedule, maybe. Or, I-I could fly you out here?”
The first offer to pay his lease had been easy to turn down. This offer was much more difficult to refuse. Zane couldn’t leave without creating problems on set and Mark couldn’t drop everything on his end. All this shit he had to figure out would be waiting to pounce when he got home no matter how long he delayed it.
Mark dropped his head unhappily. “The thought of seeing you is totally amazing, but now’s just—”
“Not the time.”
“Yeah.”
Zane made a noise that seemed understanding, but Mark could tell he was incredibly upset. He really hoped what he had to say next didn’t make it worse.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” Mikey snapped in confusion, his anger like a thousand biting exclamation points over the phone. “Mark has dinner with another guy in Bora Bora and doesn’t mention it—still hasn’t mentioned it—and you don’t call him on it. Instead, you’ve met his family and basically committed yourself to a long-distance relationship. He’s lost his job leaving him all kinds of time on his hands, and now he’s not jumping on a plane to see you, he’s meeting this guy—this Christian—when he comes into town. Oh—and he finally mentions that he’s been talking to him on the phone since he left Bora Bora. Am I understanding this correctly?”
Zane didn’t respond, he was too furious; the kind of angry that he had to swallow down while he was on the phone earlier with Mark because they were still in fledgling status. Add a dash of good-looking man-eater in the shape of Christian and Zane wanted to crush something. Mark may have been all about the innocent stuff on the phone, but Zane had witnessed Christian’s prowess firsthand. Whether or not Mark wanted to admit it, the younger man got under his skin.
“Why are you putting yourself through this?” Mikey questioned him. “Seriously, I know you like him but it honestly seems like he’s messing with your head.”
“You heard the story about Christian. If Mark says they’re just friends and Christian is only in town on business, I have to believe him,” Zane repeated dejectedly.
“You sure as hell do not have to. Why do you think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe because I’m trying to build a relationship based on trust?”
Mikey snorted. “Yeah, and you’re the one forced to do all the trusting. It’s sketchy. He’s acting sketchy.”
“You have to give him points for calling me and telling me about it,” Zane protested. “He could’ve kept his mouth shut and never mentioned it at all. I think that says something.”
“It absolutely says something. It says, ‘Oh, shit! I have photographers following me around and they could take pictures of me and this guy together. Better think of something so Zane doesn’t freak the hell out!’ That’s what it says.”
Zane wanted so badly to believe that Mark was only trying to be up front with him—to keep the “No Games” rule alive. It was fucking hard. Zane was across the ocean from a man he wanted to be with more than anything and yet, his circumstances were keeping him chained. It’s not like he could demand that Mark come to his side and ignore Christian forever. Mark was an adult and whether Zane liked it or not, he’d made this decision to see Christian and was letting him know he was going to do so. Chances were that Zane would regret believing him later, but for now, he was compelled to.
“I may not have known Mark a long time, but I’ve been around him alone and with his family. We’ve talked a lot and shared a lot with each other. He is not trying to manipulate me. I know he cares about me. I know it.”
Mikey’s frustration came through
loud and clear over their connection. “I really hope you’re right, Zane. In fact, I’d love it if you were right, ‘cause from my point of view, I don’t think it’s as clear as you say it is. He cares about you?—or he cares about what you can do for him?”
“Listen,” Zane said, more than a little ice in his voice. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me. I’m glad you’d run the risk of making me mad at you to tell me what you’re hearing about in L.A. Leslie and Jenny are saying the same things…but I’m choosing to believe what he tells me on this. If I’m right, then we go on and get stronger from here. If I’m wrong…then…it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
“You can’t be as calm about this as you’re acting.”
“I’m not.”
“Well then—”
“I have to decide one way or the other and I’m deciding he was being honest with me and trying to protect our relationship. He can have friends. He can spend time with other people. I’m not going to control him.”
“Even though this ‘friend’ clearly wants to fuck him?”
The question was like a bucket of water in Zane’s face. The same thought had been lurking in the back of his mind, eating away at his conviction and making him want to lash out exactly the way Mikey was attempting to persuade him to.
“…Even then…”
It was Mikey’s turn for silence—a dismayed, disappointed silence. The moment stretched between them and neither of them moved to fill the space. Just as it was getting really uncomfortable, Mikey grunted and let out a heavy breath.
“Alright, man. I guess you’ve gotta do what you think is best. But…well…just be careful, please. Okay?”
“Yeah. I-I will.”
Mikey ended the call and Zane slowly let his hand fall to his lap. He needed to be confident that there was more out there for Mark and him and they just had the challenge of digging to it. Zane believed it, but this situation had him wondering if Mark agreed.
Question Mark Page 17