And then he was on the bed next to me, on his hands and knees, reaching over me to meet me in another kiss. I tasted myself on his lips and I kissed him deep, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He pulled off and sat back on the bed, gazing at me.
“You don’t know how beautiful you are, Jamie.”
I’d probably have blushed if I wasn’t already totally flushed.
“Thank you.”
“Really,” he said, his gaze growing more serious as he leaned down closer to me on the bed. “I… God, I know this is gonna sound stupid and idiotic and I should probably just stop while I’m ahead, but….”
“Leo. It’s me,” I said, “Just talk to me.”
He bit his bottom lip, looked down, and then finally met my eyes again.
“I know it’s a bad idea for us to be… seen together, now. But maybe… maybe after the book is out, after we give it a fair shot, could we… do you think we could….”
I looked at him, a smile spreading over my face.
“Leo Stone, are you trying to ask me out?”
Now his face was the one that was red.
“Yeah, I guess I am. If you’d have me, I’d really fucking love to ask you out, Jamie. I’d really like to… to be your boyfriend.”
And it was a good thing that I was already lying on the bed because I suddenly had a singular feeling throughout my body—that started from my head and shot down all the way to my feet—that feeling like when you’re at the top of a roller coaster, and you’ve been waiting so long for the damn thing to get to the top, and then finally it’s there, you’re getting what you wanted, and you’re free.
You’re falling through the air, and it feels like flying.
Nineteen
Leo
Nothing was perfect.
Nothing would ever be perfect, and I knew I had no control over that, when it came down to it.
But the closest I’d ever come to feeling something like perfection was seeing Jamie’s reaction to me asking, like an idiotic teenager asking his first girl to prom, if he would go out with me. Because I’d been pretty sure he’d laugh at me, or worse, say that it had been fun hooking up, but that he didn’t want anything to do with a dumpster fire like me in the long-term. But instead it was pure joy.
I hadn’t even been planning to ask him anything like that, but the contrast of how incredibly good, and right, and real things felt with him after the barrage of other people at the party… it had put into sharp focus just how much I wanted Jamie. How deeply he had gotten into my head, in the best way possible.
Even I’m not a big enough idiot to not see what we had was good.
So when I asked, and then he broke out into the widest smile I’d ever seen on him, pulling me into a deep kiss, yeah, it was nearly perfect.
I held him in my arms for a few minutes afterward, just us in the small room together, listening to the faint thrum of the music and activity upstairs. Jamie nuzzled up against me.
“You are so getting paid back for that when we get back to your place, by the way,” he said, kissing slow into my neck.
“Paid back? You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“Oh no. It’s a good thing. I’m gonna pay you back for how fucking good that was. I’m gonna fucking worship your body tonight, Leo.”
I uttered a groan and felt a shiver course through me. “Or… we could… do it here?” I tried. “No one’s looking for us, probably….”
Jamie shook his head. “No. What I’m planning to do is gonna make you call out. You’re gonna be too loud here, and someone will hear. I’ve heard you when you come, Leo… you’re not exactly shy about it.”
“I hate it but I know you’re right,” I said, rutting my hard, clothed cock up against his thigh.
“A little anticipation never hurt anyone,” he said, dragging his palm against the outline of my cock.
“Fuck,” I said, “Fuck.”
He laughed devilishly. “We probably should get back out there,” he said.
“You’re right,” I said, sighing and slowly peeling myself away from the bed. Jamie stood up and started to tug the zipper of his pants back up.
“Oh… shit, Jamie,” I said, staring at the back of his blazer.
“What is it? Oh my God, oh my God, is there a scorpion on me? I know there are scorpions in California but I didn’t think they’d be in L.A., holy shit,” he said, frantic.
“No, no, no, Jamie, it’s not a damn scorpion. You’ve just got a bunch of this on your blazer,” I said, holding up an uncapped tube of lipstick that we’d missed on the bed.
Jamie tugged off his blazer and turned it around to look at the stain.
“Oh, God damn it,” he said, “This thing was like the most expensive clothing item I’ve ever bought.”
“Let me see,” I said, taking the blazer and holding it near the light. “The stain isn’t huge. But… it is definitely lipstick red.”
“Will it wash out?”
“I think we’ve got a chance if we do something with it now. I know where Chandler’s laundry room is, I’m sure he’s got a bazillion Tide pens in there from that campaign he did with them.”
Jamie looked disappointed—and even if it was just about a shirt, I couldn’t stand to see him looking like that.
“I’m gonna fix it. We’ll head upstairs and I’ll work on it. You go get more champagne and I’ll have this cleaner than you could imagine in less than 20 minutes.”
He smiled sweetly, so sweetly, and nodded.
We made sure to go upstairs separately—him a minute before me—just in case someone was nearby. He texted me to let me know the coast was clear so that I could go up holding his blazer to the laundry room, which was just before the kitchen. The kitchen was full of people laughing and chatting and drinking, but I was able to slip into the laundry room nearby without them seeing me.
I searched around the room for about two seconds before spotting an entire case of Tide pens, just like I’d guessed. I laid the blazer down on the nearest surface and got to work.
I overheard the voices of two—or maybe three—women talking in the kitchen. It sounded like they had just come in from outside, and had congregated just on the other side of the wall from the laundry room. They were speaking slightly hushed, but I could hear them clearly.
“Oh my God, yeah, did you see him? The one who just walked outside?”
“Yep. The super cute one. He came in with Leo Stone.”
“Guys, he’s like, Leo’s biographer or something. Like what a fucking joke, right?”
Laughter.
“…I mean not the kid—he’s fucking gorgeous—but the whole biography thing is so stupid. It’s clear that guy is just gonna end up Leo’s fucktoy.”
“And did you see how sad Leo looks? God, it’d make me sad if it wasn’t so funny…”
“I know, right?”
More laughter. A hiccup.
I felt like all the blood was rushing out of my face.
“…He looks like he’d rather be at home banging his hand against that Blade-Cutter-Chopper whatever the fuck thingy.”
“God, the poor biographer though. How long do you think it’ll be before he ends up in the d-list blogs getting sucked off by Leo? Remember back in the day when that happened with that Damien guy?”
“Duh. And I’m betting two weeks, max.”
“I’ll put a hundred dollars on it being before the book even comes out. Ooh! Or maybe they’ll do a publicity stunt and purposely release the pics right when the book comes out.”
“Ugh. No. Not even that would help that dude’s career. God, this champagne is fucking good.”
“I know, and I don’t have enough of it. Party’s dead inside anyway, let’s go back out.”
I heard a high pitched whining noise, almost deafening, and gripped my hands against the sink nearby. I realized that the sound was coming from my own ears. My balance was off, the room felt like it was spinning, and I lurched over the sink. I
hadn’t had a single alcoholic drink and suddenly I felt like I’d had ten.
As I leaned over the slate grey, modern sink, I was confused as I saw spots appear on the bottom of it, darkening the stone like drops of paint. I realized it was coming from my own eyes and then it was coming even faster, nearly in sobs. I reached over to the door of the room, still holding one hand against the sink for balance, and I shut the door.
It was one thing to hate myself.
To know that really, beneath it all, I was worthless, and any attempts to try were laughable at best.
But it was quite another to hear those same things escaping the lips of people at a party thrown by my friend. It wasn’t anonymous internet comments, it was people being honest about me when they didn’t know I was nearby.
Briefly I wondered if I was going to pass out, and I thought that if I slipped and hit my head on the slate sink it probably wouldn’t kill me, just horrendously hurt me. So it wasn’t the best idea. I sat down on the cold tile floor, leaning against the wall.
It hurt to breathe. In fact it felt like I couldn’t breathe at all, lungs shallow, breaths tight.
I wanted to sink into the floor, to disappear, to somehow exit the world without anyone ever knowing I’d been a part of it. They’d all be better off. Certainly Jamie would be.
Jamie. God, Jamie.
When I thought of him, a sense of clarity washed over me—no less chilling than the panic that had been there before, but at least there was a situation that I knew how to handle.
The problem was… and it was a little silly, considering I’d only just asked if he’d be my ‘boyfriend’… the problem was that I was in love with Jamie. I was in love with him, although I had no right to be in love with him, it was something that I couldn’t control, and therefore wouldn’t try.
But my God, yes, I fucking loved him, and so I would do what I had to do. I would stay the fuck away from him. He’d be disappointed at first—of course he would. But Jamie would be nothing if not resilient. He’d bounce back. Achieve success I could never dream of. And he wouldn’t have the spectre of my pathetic excuse for a career hanging over him.
The sudden feeling of clarity had dried whatever tears were left in me, and I calmly got up from the cold floor, looked back at Jamie’s blazer, and finished working out the stain.
The faintest trace of it was still there. Just makeup on a jacket. A trace of what we’d done, a trace of what we could have been. No one other than me and Jamie would ever know about it.
Some fucked-up, glutton-for-punishment corner of my brain made me lift the jacket, turn it over, and bury my face in the inside, lined with silky fabric. It smelled like him, like Jamie, the person I’d fallen in love with.
I lowered it from my face, took a deep breath, and swallowed. Made my way back through the kitchen, to the chaotic backyard, and started to search for Jamie.
Twenty
Jamie
“Wait. So you went to Branwin University, you’re a writer, and you love sci-fi? Tell me right now how you’re not the coolest person at this entire fucking party. Jamie fuckin’ Sheffield. I’m gonna remember that name.”
I was standing outside by a table where a chef was making bananas foster, flames licking high into the air. Eric and his new friend… Mark? Max? Mick?... had found me, and the guy was now somehow impressed with my interests.
I laughed a little, looking around for Leo but not seeing him. “Oh. Yeah, it’s cool I guess. But… a lot of people like sci-fi… I’m not that special.”
Mark or Max or Mick rolled his eyes in a very exaggerated way. “Oh, yeah fucking right. Everyone else here is trying to tell me about their new app that tells you how many calories is in the water you’re drinking, or their latest modeling gig or movie. You’re the coolest person I’ve met all night.”
“Oh, well, thanks, I appreciate it,” I said sheepishly, not really knowing how to respond.
“Are you dating anyone?” he said, very straightforward.
I looked to Eric for help, but he looked just as disappointed as me. He had probably assumed he’d be going home with the guy.
“Uh, actually yeah, I’m not really on the market. That’s flattering though, thank you.”
Just then Leo stepped near us, and I couldn’t believe how relieved I was to see him again.
“Jamie, I brought your blazer, you left it in the kitchen,” Leo said. His face looked very serious—almost vacant—he really was trying to fake like we weren’t a couple.
But, I realized, we were. He was my boyfriend. And the thought filled me with warmth yet again.
“Thanks, Leo,” I said, taking the blazer and throwing it back on.
“And it’s time to leave,” he said, barely meeting my gaze and then looking at Eric.
“What? Fuck no. I’m not ready to leave,” Eric said. “I was just getting to know Max here, and I want to at least talk to him a while longer.”
“Well, I’m leaving, now,” Leo said, sternly.
“Okay….” Eric said, looking at him. “I’ll get a ride from somebody else, or I’ll use the driver service. Just go ahead if you want to go home.”
“I’m ready,” I said, and Leo started back into the house. I had to quicken my pace a little to keep up with him—he was walking really fast, like he urgently needed to get out of there.
At the front of the house, the valet retrieved his car quickly, and verified extensively that he hadn’t drunk too much.
Finally, we were in the car again, and set off heading east into the night.
“Well, that was fucking amazing, Leo, thank you so much for bringing me. God, I never would have thought I’d get to attend a party like that. And honestly, everyone there was so nice. I feel like we could have… y’know… been more affectionate, and no one would have cared.”
He nodded, his mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. He stared at the road in front of us, and I watched as the speedometer ticked up and up as we raced down the hill.
“Jesus, Leo, slow down?”
He kept pushing it, though, whipping around corners.
“God—stop, Leo, you’re gonna fucking hit something.”
Finally he relented as we pulled down to the bottom of the hill. The views of the ocean were gone, and we were back with the rest of civilization—traffic lights, more cars, fewer mansions.
“What the hell happened in there in the ten minutes you were away from me? Why are you in such a bad mood?”
He stopped at a red light and stole a quick glance in my direction, then training his eyes forward again. He reached down to turn up the music and I let it slide. I figured he must have just been partied out, and needed to recharge, and I didn’t press the matter for the rest of the drive home.
When we finally pulled into his driveway, he put the car in park. I leaned over toward him and pushed my hand against his cheek.
“Leo,” I said, keeping my voice gentle. “I can guess you didn’t have the greatest time at the party. But let me make it up to you.” I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, and he backed away from my touch.
“Jamie.”
I leaned back, staring at him, my gaze hard.
“What I said earlier… I… I was mistaken. I’d just made you come, and I was lost in the moment, and I asked you to….”
“…To be my boyfriend,” I said, the word feeling silly all the sudden.
“Yeah. I don’t think we—we can’t do it, Jamie.”
I felt an immediate tightening in my chest, just beneath my ribs. I narrowed my gaze at him.
“And you’ve changed your mind about this, why?”
Finally he met my eyes, and his looked impossibly sad. “I was wrong to ask it, Jamie, and I’m sorry, but it isn’t going to happen.”
I let out a long breath of air and sat back in my seat, staring out at the beam his headlights made against the row of bushes by his house.
“So… so you want to keep it secret. Even after the book is published? I mean, Leo,
that sounds like shit, but I’ll do it, if you really want that.”
“No,” he said. “No. I can’t do this with you, Jamie. I can’t do any of it. We can finish the book, but after that we should go our separate ways.”
“What the fuck? You just—”
“It’s not negotiable, Jamie.”
Confusion raced through me and was replaced soon by anger. I tried to speak, and it came out barely more than a whisper. “If this is some kind of joke, it’s really not fucking funny, Leo.”
I turned to him and saw him shaking his head, looking right at me.
“You…” I said, my voice cracking. “You don’t want me.”
Leo squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out a breath of air. “Of course I fucking do,” he said, and I heard a waver in his voice. “But I’m not letting you ruin the rest of your life for me.”
“I’m not going to ruin my life!” I said, my voice startlingly loud in the quiet car. “For the first time ever, I feel like I’m actually living my life—with you, here in this city, working towards something that could be amazing. You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life, Leo.”
He swallowed. “You don’t want to be associated with me. As an impartial biographer, sure. People will see your writing and undoubtedly be impressed. But… being with me can only hurt you, Jamie.”
“I just don’t fucking see how that’s true,” I said, feeling frantic. I looked out the window, at the ceiling, and back at Leo. “If you would just—if you would just get over yourself, and show people who you really are, your career could turn around in a second. And you know it.”
Leo stared at me like I’d just slapped him in the face.
“Yeah. I fucking said it, and if we’re doing the brutal honesty thing here, I’ll say it again. You’re wickedly talented, Leo, and you’re letting all that talent go to waste because… because, why? Because you’re afraid you’ll fail? If you don’t try, that’s the only way to be certain you’ll fail.”
Your Fallen Star: Under the Stars Book 1 Page 17