by Piper Denna
David shot, blasted the balls apart, sunk the two and six in the far corners.
Griffin bent over, laughing. “So that’s how it is, huh? Damn.” He shook his head while David kept shooting until he’d cleared all the evens.
“Over there.” David indicated a side pocket, then sunk the eight.
“Well, fuck. If I’m gonna keep watching you bust it out like that, I’m gonna need some more tequila. Whattaya say?”
“Loser buys,” David answered, racking the balls.
“Fuck that!” Griffin laughed on his way to the bar.
David didn’t care how many eight-dollar shots he had to buy, so long as tomorrow, he couldn’t remember a damn thing about today. Maybe he could drink enough to forget the whole damn week.
* * * *
His cell was vibrating, and his head hurt like a motherfucker. What the hell time was it, anyway? He had to stop the noise somehow. Screen said Dan.
“H’lo?” he croaked.
“Now you’re a fag?” Dan cackled into the phone.
“What?”
“It’s all over the net and headlines on that E! channel. Video of you with some guy out at a bar. I had no idea, brother.” More laughter.
“Fuck.”
“I especially like how you flipped ’em off, though. They had to blur your hand and stuff, and you kept moving it around. Must’ve taken ’em all night to get it edited for TV. On the net, they just show you giving ’em the bird.”
In the other bed, Griffin groaned and pulled his pillow over his face.
“Fuck.”
“Is that all you got to say? How’d you end up gay on that cruise? Not enough chicks to go ’round?” Dan’s laughter had to be the most annoying sound on the planet.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Don’t worry, bro. Once you get out here tomorrow, we’ll tie a few on, and hit some sweet babes. Everybody’ll know it was a bullshit story.”
“I gotta go hurl now. Later.” He pressed End and moaned. Hurling would have to wait. He hurt too much to get up and puke.
“So we’re lovers now.” The pillow muffled Griffin’s voice, and his chuckle.
“Don’t even fuckin’ say that. And it’s not funny.” The whole gay thing… Jesus. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be, not if he wanted to keep his sponsors.
“Christ, man. Lighten up.” Griffin flung his pillow at him. “I gotta face the guys at the station. They’ll never let this go.”
True enough. Griffin probably would get razzed at work just like he had from Dan. He shouldn’t, but… “Yeah, well. I can see how it’d be harder for you. After all, you enjoyed getting BJs from dudes.”
“Whatevs, man. I can guess how it was with you and Mr. Grant. Uh-huh.” Griffin sat up and stuck his tongue in his cheek, mimicking a blow job.
Christ. “Keep fantasizing.”
“No, dude. Seriously.” Griffin cradled his forehead with one palm, but his eyes met David’s. “You wouldn’t, like…tell stories about stuff from the cruise to anybody, right?” He hunched forward, holding his belly. “Cause, really, I’m not into that. I never expected to see you again when I told you that shit.”
Whew. Griffin had his own shame, so they were in this thing together. “It’s cool, man. We’ll put all those stories in the vault, right?”
“Deal.” Griffin stood, reached for the world’s fastest handshake, and beat it to the bathroom.
David rolled over and buried his face against the bed. The story would be all over, everywhere he went today. Well, what the fuck did he care if a bunch of strangers believed some bullshit story?
For that matter, what the fuck did he care if the story they read was the truth? In a few days, they’d move on to the next hot-n-happenin’ headline. Probably.
Maybe Vic and Britt had figured that out, and that was why their perspective seemed so screwed.
Griffin came back out, his feet shuffling along the carpet in the semidark. “Bathroom’s all yours.” His voice was rough and he sounded miserable. “If you wanta shower, do me a favor and leave the door unlocked, case I’ve gotta ralph again, huh?”
“Aren’t ya glad we drank all that shit to feel better?”
Griffin’s bed creaked. “Fuckin’ Peyton.”
Yep. Fucking Vic too. And Britt.
His shorts were all crusty, which meant he’d been dealing with both of them sometime in the night. Goddamn it. Just remembering the dream…coming, having them both again…got him hard, even hungover.
How could he feel like he needed to fuck this second, when he knew he’d never want to fuck again?
* * * *
They’d completely missed check-out time. Slept hard, until some Hispanic chick from housekeeping beat on the door and announced herself in two languages.
“Shit.” David knuckled his eyes. He’d had a ticket on a noon flight out of San Diego. So much for making that flight. “Feel any better?”
The maid quit knocking and moved down the hall to the next room.
“Some,” Griffin muttered. “We slept ’til one, dude. Wanna get somethin’ to eat?”
“Maybe downstairs. And then what? Check out, or stay another night?”
“Fuck.” Griffin turned on the lamp between the beds. “I better see if I can change my flight. Since it’s in like two hours. But first, food. I’ll dick around with flight times on my phone while we eat.”
The hotel restaurant had only a few more patrons than the bar had the night before. Each corner had a TV playing some different daytime program, with subtitles running along the bottom of the screen.
They ordered and both went to work on their phones, silent except for the occasional long drink from their sodas.
“Fuck my life. Looks like it’ll be tomorrow afternoon before I can get on a flight,” Griffin said. “Whatever. I better just get the reservation changed.” He pulled out his wallet. “Hey. Look who’s on TV.”
Christ, it was probably that scene with them, from outside the bar. David looked over at the TV Griffin indicated. Suckerpunch. A close-up of Vic, Britt right beside her. Must’ve been from their press conference after the ship unloaded. She looked good, too damn good. Hard to believe he’d been with her not long ago. And Britt–he always seemed to have her back. They were perfect together: she the light, beckoning all to realize their dreams, he the sturdy anchor to reality.
David closed his eyes, then opened them to watch the scene on TV. Just where would he have fit in with them?
“Yo. Bro. Food’s here.” Griffin snapped his fingers.
Leaning back so the server could put their plates down, David kept staring at the screen. Vic. Damn it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She didn’t look at all wrecked, like he’d felt all yesterday. Hadn’t she told him she loved him? Begged him to stay? Seemed like she’d gotten over his heart-wrenching departure pretty damn fast.
“Power,” Griffin said past a mouthful of burger. “You can just about smell it coming off her, like little waves. An aura. I can see why you wanted her. One smokin’ hot piece of ass–”
“Don’t.” David growled, glared at Griffin, and looked back at the TV in time to see a commercial coming on.
“But I can’t see her ever getting into it. Ya know? Like, didn’t you wonder if she was a hundred percent with you? Or was she thinking about the Next Big Sexy Thing, the whole time you were getting it on? Strikes me as a control freak. And in my experience, control freaks don’t make such hot lovers.”
Wrong on that count, Griff. “Might depend on what she’s controlling at the time, I guess.”
“Ohhh, I get it. A little S and M action, eh?” Griffin nodded and rubbed his stubbly chin. “I can see that. Still…I dunno. An overnighter, a weekend romp maybe. But you did the right thing breaking ties there, bro. Babes like that don’t let themselves get attached where they don’t want to. They control the situation. Their actions, their emotions and their men–puppets on strings, I tell ya.”
Wrong again, but he wasn
’t about to set him straight. Maybe Griffin would get tired of rambling on and drop the subject.
“Their guys are supposed to be all nurturing and romantic, then let the women go run the world. So here’s something to think about.” Griffin stabbed a fry in David’s direction. “How many times do you think old Brett has seen his wife cry?”
At least one. Fuck. Griffin had it so wrong.
“Bro. You look like you’re gonna barf.”
Felt like it, too. “Look. Let’s just drop it.” Fuck, he’d walked away from them. What more did Griffin want?
Griffin sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. Totally ignoring the food he’d been dying for. “She cried when you left?”
He’d never see another set of green eyes without thinking about hers overflowing, the tears running through her fresh makeup. Fuck. He’d managed to hurt the unhurtable, the all-controlling, cool, calm, and collected Victoria West-Grant.
And yet, that press conference was visual proof she’d recovered almost immediately after he was out of sight. Or had she? Was she that good at keeping her cool, covering her personal life for the sake of her professional one?
One thing he knew for sure: Her tears had been real. She didn’t have a fake bone in her body. So he’d definitely hurt her. And whether she’d recovered, or merely covered up, he owed her and Britt an apology.
“I need to see her.” He grabbed his phone and opened the browser.
“Whoa, whoa.” Griffin put his hand over the phone’s screen. “You can’t just call her up.” His phone chimed, and he glanced at it, then glared. “Goddamn. Bitch. Shit.”
“What?” David picked his favorite airline from his saved bookmarks.
“Trish. Meddling bitch. She went over to the apartment to pick up the rest of her shit this morning–coincidence that I’d said I’d be back by now? Not–and found something with my travel itinerary. She knows I went on the sex cruise.” His phone chimed again. “Apparently so does my very appalled mom. Fuck my life.”
“Won’t be long ’til they see you on TV with me, and decide you’ve gone homo.” Two tickets, to…where? Salt Lake City. “When’re you due back at work?”
“Um.” Griff rubbed his eyes. “Like…Sunday.”
“Perfect.” They could be on a flight leaving by five that night. “Maybe it’s time for you to explore other career options.”
“Such as?” Griff sighed and picked up his burger.
“We’re going to Fantasy Mountain. Sounds to me like the Grants like you and would pay you good money to go work for them.” Taking Griffin along would be good cover. It’d allow him to see if Vic and Britt really were fine without him, or if they were a mess like he was.
“That’ll look even cuter on the tabloid show. ‘David Roman and his boytoy, off for a fantasy retreat at Fantasy Mountain.’ How’ll that go over?”
“Screw the tabloids.” Not that he thought they’d find out, but if they did, well, he had bigger fish to fry right now. “I’m not spending the rest of my swimming career hiding out from cameras and those no-life-having losers who run them. Anyway, what makes you the boytoy? I’m the barely-legal one here.”
“Nah, man. I really can’t. Better get home and try to clean up the mess.” The words were right, but didn’t sound like Griffin’s heart was in them.
“I’m buying two tickets to Salt Lake City. If you choose to go home instead, then I guess on your way, you can think about the wasted ticket. And the wasted opportunity you never checked out.”
Chapter 26
Where was she going to get sixty-five Harley Davidsons for a weekend? Victoria stared at her laptop screen. Her head hurt. She’d organized a Harder On Harley weekend last year as well, but it had grown in popularity. By leaps and bounds. Britt would scowl so hard his face would stick that way, if she suggested they invest and buy the bikes. But not many Harley owners were willing to rent out their hogs for amateurs to ride–let alone do all the other wild things that had happened last year on them.
Her Skype window popped open. Carmyn had sent her a link.
Because she’d been getting little else done, she’d allow the interruption. The link took her to a “news” story. Gold Medalist Out on the Town, the headline read. And Also Out of the Closet? A grainy photo showed David and–was that Griffin the bartender-slash-fireman?–going into a hotel. Good grief. He’d gotten nabbed by the paps anyway.
Her phone chimed. Britt had texted. Maybe he was done with his walk-through over at Fantasy Spacestation. Probably wanted to tell her what it felt like being weightless.
Did Carmyn send you the link?
Before she could reply, he sent her another message:
Poor chap, David. He can’t seem to escape the media.
Whatever. Sooner or later, the poor chap would need to figure out life under the magnifying glass. She replied:
He better get used to it, or else get a real job.
Carmyn, meanwhile, sent her a new IM:
Damn he’s a hottie, huh? I kinda like thinking of him as bi.
Of course David wasn’t bi. He’d gone out partying with Griffin. Sure hadn’t been licking his wounds. Or had he? He had seemed genuinely guilt-ridden when he’d left the suite yesterday.
Her phone chimed.
Bitter much?
Not really, no. She’d expected to be hurt, sad…maybe bitter. But no. Pretty much she was just…
Fuck him, she replied. He doesn’t want us to care about him or worry.
He’s just a kid, Vic.
A kid? Well, for a kid, he’d done a damn good job of naming off good, adult reasons for breaking it off with them. And then he’d gotten in some mighty mean jabs, acted like they’d meant nothing, just a good time to him. He’d deliberately hurt them. Might’ve felt bad about it later, but it was definitely on purpose. For that, he deserved to writhe under the magnifying glass a little.
So maybe she was pissed.
Carmyn sent her a new IM.
Are you OK? Put the camera on so I can see you. You seemed so…down yesterday when we split.
She didn’t feel like turning the webcam on, but Carmyn would pester her all day until she’d satisfied her worries.
“Hey, Car,” she said once the camera was linked, Carmyn’s pool glinting in the background. “See? I’m fine. Just busy as hell.”
Carmyn squinted at the screen. “How clean is your apartment?”
“God.” Truth was, she’d gotten up at four to clean the kitchen and living room from top to bottom. In one word, her home was sparkly. In two words? Anally clean. Carmyn had her pegged, but she didn’t have to admit it. “We got in late last night, and I’ve been up working since early this morning.” All true–she’d just left out the part about what type of work she’d been doing. And seriously, their place had been a mess. With all the travel getting ready for the FCS launch, the place had gotten disastrously dirty.
“Oh-kaay.” Carmyn didn’t look entirely convinced. “It just seemed like you all were getting pretty close.”
“Well, like Britt says, David’s just a kid. Probably won’t know what he wants for at least another ten years. And since he’s a guy, he’ll change his mind ten years after that.”
Carmyn laughed. “Surely you don’t think that about all guys?”
Not Mark–he seemed like he’d always known what he wanted. And not Britt. He’d made up his mind and waited a long-ass time for it. “Britt and Mark are quite a bit older. Time makes all the difference.” Time and integrity–which she honestly believed David had in spades. He just had other priorities. “Anyway, I’m just bitchy today because of all the work we’ve gotta catch up on.” And she couldn’t seem to focus on any of it. “Guess I’ve got a little vacation hangover. Now I know what it’s like for clients to go home after coming here. The trip back to reality is rough.”
Carmyn’s eyebrows bounced. “The sex is great though, huh? We’re always hot as hell for a while when we get back to just each other.”
Ho
t as hell? Well, it had been good…and comforting, last night. Someplace safe to fall back. Maybe it was always hot between her and Britt, though, and she just took it for granted.
“Tori?”
“Hmm?”
Carmyn pointed at her camera.
Victoria looked over her shoulder to find Britt standing there, listening. God, had she said anything less than flattering? She hoped not.
“Hullo, Car.” Britt put his chin on Victoria’s shoulder. “Don’t expect Vic to be forthcoming, but we’re a bit of a trike missing its third wheel just now. She’s been cleaning like a madwoman again, and thinks she can work herself numb. As usual, yeah?”
Victoria shrugged her shoulder away from him. “Forgive Britt. He enjoys sensationalizing. Before he moved here, he used to work at the Law Offices of Mountain from a Molehill.” Maybe Britt had fallen for David more than she had. Maybe not. Either way, she didn’t want him thinking she was all broken up over David, and getting some complex about it. “I think we’re gonna go now. It’s almost lunchtime, which means we need to have some hot as hell sex.”
“All right,” Carmyn sighed. “Guess I’d better get back to lounging by the pool all alone. Nanny took the kids to Art class. You guys still planning on a visit next weekend, to come take Joey to Disneyland again?”
“Yep. We’ll be down Friday. His dad’s supposed to have him at your place that afternoon.”
Carmyn smiled, waved, and then her camera disconnected.
“All done with your walk-through?” Victoria rubbed her palm along Britt’s cheek as he nuzzled her neck.
“I cut it a bit short. Thought I’d better come make sure you weren’t alerting the press about David’s cruise transgressions, to teach him a lesson.”
“Just because I’m irritable doesn’t mean I’m vindictive. Jeez.”
Britt slid his hands inside her blouse. “Maybe we should take a vacation. I’m not feeling the work vibe much.”
“How about we take a long lunch?” She turned and took his lips with hers. She’d make sure Britt didn’t feel bad if he’d overheard anything he shouldn’t have.