His eyes went wide and he sat up. The duvet dropped down and he moved both hands to place them on my arms. They were warm from being under the covers and that touch sent a shiver right through me. I tried not to show it. “Thank you. Wow, I sort of blanked out at some point and then just remembered being dragged around.”
I wanted to lean in and hug him and kiss him, but I couldn’t do that without opening a huge can of worms. Apart from the fact, I’d just gotten him back as a friend, was I really going to risk everything? Did I even want to? I still had the text from Hercules in New York, a hot blond twink who was no Greek hero like his name perhaps implied, but rather just a good fuck. The lengthiest conversation we’d ever had consisted of him telling me in full detail how he “enhanced”—his words, not mine—his chest hair as well as the hair on his head to make people believe he was a true blond. Seemed like a lot of work to me.
I jumped up suddenly. “I have a great idea.”
“Oh yeah?” Jamie raised his eyebrows, obviously thinking the word “great” was dubious in nature.
“Remember we used to say we were doing homework and we’d …”
He licked his lips, almost in anticipation.
I took a risk and leaned into him. Putting one hand on the side of his face, I kissed him. Closing my eyes, I took in the moment and just let myself feel. And for a moment it seemed as if he was enjoying it.
And just as quickly, he pushed me away. “No, um, do you want to play cards? I can still beat you at Fish, I’m sure.”
I pushed my hands through my hair. Fuck, I had been stupid. But it felt so good. I brushed my thumb across my lips. I could hold on to the memory. Time elapsed in awkward silence, then I crawled up to get under the covers with him. He didn’t run off, so I thought it was okay. “How we used to spend hours throwing cards and seeing who could get it closest to something.” I got up again and moved the Coke can I’d been drinking from onto the desk that sat a little away from the end of his bed. Then I grabbed the pack of cards and went to sit with him again.
“I’m youngest, so I go first,” he piped up, just like it was ten years ago again.
I smiled a huge grin and handed him a card. Like times before, we could go back and forth at this for hours. When the full pack was done, I got up and collected them all again. It was thirty-one to twenty-one for him.
I leaned back on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. The room felt stuffy or something, so I pulled off my sweatshirt. “Mind if I open the window?” I asked.
“Be my guest. But you know that won’t distract me from my game.” He blinked and then sniffled a bit. Damn, he was beating me and even when he was exhausted.
I crawled back up the bed. “Oh, I know.” I nudged him. “Even that time I tickled you, you still beat me.”
“Those were the days.” We both laughed together.
I heard the buzzer go. “I’ll get it,” I said as he moved slowly like a turtle.
“No, it’s fine. It’s my place after all.”
Then there was a small knock and the bedroom door opened slightly. “Jamieson, it’s me, Stuart.”
“Come in. Come in,” he said, obviously not bothered about all the conclusions people could jump to with me in his bedroom.
He bounded over and hugged Jamieson as I stood on the periphery. Jamie looked as if he could hardly breathe.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. Why didn’t you call me?” Then he turned from looking charmingly at Jamie to glaring at me.
I held my hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t know where you guys ended up and I just … all I could think of was to get him somewhere to rest, so I rushed with him back here, making sure he was okay.” My phone rang then, and I checked the number. I didn’t really need to answer it but I wanted out. “I better take this, so I’ll leave you two to chat for awhile.”
I went outside the flat and took the call.
13
JAMIESON
“I’m going to start calling you Damien if you don’t stop this,” I scolded.
Stuart continued to fluff my pillows, bring magazines over to me, and brush non-existent dust off the nightstand, all while talking nonstop. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here much. You know I practically live at Marshall’s now. But I worry about you here, all alone. I feel like I abandoned you. But I can come home more often.” He drew an X over his heart and it almost melted my own.
When he came close enough, I held both his wrists. “Calm down. You will not do anything different with Marshall. I am completely fine.” I took a deep breath. “But … can you stay a little while? I can send Carter on his way.”
Speak of the devil, Carter peeked his head inside. “Doing okay?” He regarded me with such a heartfelt look that I took a shallow gasp and it wasn’t due to being sick or exhausted.
I could only nod.
He came over to hug me and then gave Stuart some weird pat on the back. “Okay, I’m going to go then. I know you’re in good hands. You two catch up.” He waved and then left.
“Safe travels,” I yelled, hoarsely. It was more of a loud whisper. “You kick butt on that Less Is More campaign.”
“What in the world was that look all about?” Stuart said, barely a moment after the outside door closed.
I could feel my face blush and get heated. I bit my lip.
Stuart poked me in the ribs. “Okay, something is going on. And I want all the gossip.” He stood up. “I’ll get us some tea, and then spill.”
“Where’s Marshall at?” I asked him, desperate to change the subject.
“He’s out for a walk with Jess and Lola. I’ll meet them in a couple of hours.” He puttered around in the kitchen and came back in with two mugs of tea.
“Thank you.” After a few sips, I was feeling much better. In fact, I had been earlier. “Okay, fine. He tried to kiss me. Well, we did kiss. I don’t …”
“Wait, wait, from the beginning—or yesterday, anyway,” he said.
“Fine. But don’t go reading too much into it, okay? We’re friends. That’s it.”
Stuart rolled his eyes, probably thinking I’d miss it. “Ooookay, then.” The way he elongated the first word, made me think he didn’t believe a word I said.
“I don’t remember much about at the club. Well, I drank too much and I was dehydrated. Carter filled in some blank spaces. He made sure I got home okay. Then he insisted on looking after me. At one point we were talking about the good old days and he leaned in to kiss me.” I glanced up at Stuart to see his reaction. He was studying me intently as he listened. Marshall always said Stuart was the best listener.
I continued, “I let it happen for a moment. It wasn’t bad, it was wonderful actually, but I stopped it.” I bit my lip not sure what else to say.
Stuart got more comfortable, climbing over me and crossing his legs. Jeez, I’d never had so many men in my bed in such a short space of time. He didn’t speak for the longest time. “And don’t you want that? You don’t want to be with him? You don’t need to answer, but think about it.”
I thought maybe I did. He left it open-ended for me to respond or not. “It’s just … yes, we have a history, and we’ve cleared the air, and I know I’m not innocent in this either, so you’ve told me, but Marshall’s told me how he has men lining up at every fashion destination.”
“And? If you decide to be more, that would cease to exist. Vice versa. If you found someone, would you keep bringing back any guy who moved?” He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, sorry.” Ah, yes, another Stuart trait. Saying anything he was thinking.
I mock slapped him. “Hey. Not anything that moves. He has to have a good personality. And be smart.” I bent over and laughed. It felt so good to laugh.
Stuart just rolled his eyes. “Sure, those guys you bring back in the dead of night show real promise of joining the Mensa society.”
I took a deep breath. I spoke quietly now. “I-I found him again a few years ago and it triggered some sort of breaking point within
me. That’s when I, ah, started sleeping with anyone. I’m not ashamed or anything. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but it was more of a way to forget. To move on. So …” I dropped off talking and took some water.
Stuart rubbed my leg. “I’m glad you’re talking to me. And I’m always here for you. I know you like to be the life of the party. Me too.” He shook his hands around as if he was an orchestra director. “And to be the jokester, but it’s good to see this side too. So, you wouldn’t go for something with him?” He made a motion of zipping his lips. “Between us.”
I twisted the covers and rubbed my eyes. “I do want it. It’s just that I don’t want to be another notch on his belt, you know. He’d have to want it too.”
Stuart grabbed me and gave me a hug, rubbing my back. “Look, what’s meant to happen will happen. And I’m always here for you.”
“Thanks. I know.”
His phone beeped and he pulled back to check it, and then looked at me. “Oh, it’s Marshall and the dogs. Okay, if they come by?”
I nodded and started to get up. “I’ll get freshened up. I probably smell like the club floor. Of course, they should come.”
I quickly got in the shower and started to feel much better. Not just from washing up, but for telling Stuart my true feelings. I did still love Carter. I knew it deep inside. But I wouldn’t be just another guy to him. I’d already lost him once and wouldn’t risk it again. He’d have to want it too. And we weren’t on the same page at all just now. Barely in the same chapter of this story from what I could tell.
By the time I’d got out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed, I could hear voices in the living room. I went out and Jess ran up to me. “Hey, Jess.”
“Jamieson. Glad you’re better,” Marshall said, putting his arm around Stuart’s waist. “Stu told me you weren’t feeling well.”
“Thanks, man. You guys want a drink or food?”
Marshall pointed to the counter. “I brought us all some real food.”
“So rude. Picking that over my cooking,” Stuart piped up.
“Ha-ha, smells delicious. Thanks, man.”
Stuart pouted while we walked over to the food.
“I do feel so much better. Thanks.”
We munched on the pizza in companionable silence. Jess dropped down at Marshall’s feet while Lola sniffed, doing the perimeter check.
“Listen, guys while I have you both here.” I paused. “I am glad that you busybodies interfered and we’re on good terms again—I mean, between Carter and me.” I punched Marshall jokingly. “Not you and me, Marshall.”
He chuckled. “Ha-ha, very funny.” He cleared his throat and had some nonverbal communication with Stuart through their eyes.
“Oh right,” Stu said. “Well, it’s our first, ah”—Marshall stepped on his toe, seemingly really hard, while slapping his palm over Stuart’s mouth—“smmmthing-versuhry soon.” Marshall released his hand and Stuart looked at him with such a mix of love and lust in his eyes, I could hardly watch them. Of course I was happy for them, but it was hurting me more than ever now. I’d never have that.
Stuart continued, “So, we want to go away. To New York City. And we were wondering if you were home, could you look after the dogs? Here or at Marshall’s. Jess loves you and Lola does, too. And most of all, we trust you. So …” The look of pleading in Stuart’s eyes was like Jess with her puppy dog eyes, eyeing up a treat.
“Oh god, I thought you were going to say something bad. Of course.” I reached down to rub Jess’s head. “I’ll look at my schedule and you guys can go soon.” I reached over to hug them both. “So happy for you.”
After they left, I sat on the couch playing with my phone. Absently, I wondered what Carter was doing. Surely, he’d be in New York by now—the big city across the world. Away for a month. It’d made me think of when he’d left years before, and how I was sure I’d never see him again. I’d never begrudged him of that; he was simply following his hopes and dreams—just as I had hopes and dreams of my own.
I sat in class at the Westingline Academy. It was the first week of in-class courses for becoming an air steward. I really tried to focus, but it wasn’t the same. There was no Carter to go home to. This wasn’t the dream. Instead, I had found a flat with some guy named Axel, who had really questionable body odour issues.
I knew Carter was happy over in America. When he’d called the night before, he told me about the food, the handsome men he admired from afar, and training. I specifically told him to have fun. I did want him to, but I also knew our dream of being roommates and going to school close together was over.
Doodling on my notebook, I almost missed the question from the instructor. I couldn’t wait for the hands-on training. I diligently answered and the day dragged on.
Life became routine: school, gym, home. I eventually graduated, and while school became a thing of the past, so did communication with Carter. We both had our own lives now. I’d made fast friends with some of the people in my class, and when they asked me to go out for drinks, I’d comply.
One particular night I was drunk and needed to feel someone’s touch. Something. Anything. I threw back who knows how many shots and danced the night away. Then I drunk-dialled Carter, not paying any attention to the time or what he’d be doing. It was 4:00 a.m. or something.
“Baby,” I slurred, “I need to touch … you. I need you. I’ll come over.” I bumped something and my phone almost left my hand. There was a commotion in the background on his end. “Who’s that? What’s going on?”
The next day, he called to gently remind me that he was across the world and probably wouldn’t be home for awhile. The calls became more infrequent after that. I was too scared to ask him to come home. I wouldn’t beg. He had to come back on his own terms. To have hanging over my head that I’d dashed his hopes and dreams was unfair and selfish.
After I became an air steward, my whole life changed. A whole new world opened to me. I loved the passengers and coworkers, and travelling and exploring. And when Mateus, the very fine Greek air steward, asked me back to his flat in Athens for our two-day break, who was I to resist. It wasn’t love—it wasn’t anything but hot fucking. Very hot. Our conversations didn’t last long. I think we both had a longing, a need for touch. But there was no connection outside the bedroom.
I must have dozed off because why else would I be thinking of Mateus? My eyes flipped open when my phone suddenly buzzed in my hand and I jumped up as if someone had yelled “boo” to scare me. Staring down at the phone, I didn’t recognize the number, but something called to me to answer. “Hello?”
Silence … and then a throat clearing. “Ah, it’s me, Carter.”
14
CARTER
Leaving Jamieson had been harder than I imagined. I didn’t want to go and I had no idea why. In fact, if I could miss this photoshoot, I would. It was so scary to see him collapse at the club. And watching Stuart look after him and hug him right before I’d walked out the door left me with a ball in the pit of my stomach and a pang in my heart.
Landing in New York, I felt alone, lonely, even with thousands of people bustling around me. I reached the hotel, checked in, and walked over to the bank of elevators. I really need to get these feelings out of my system. As soon as I got settled in my room, I had a shower to wash the hours of airplane grime off of me and got dressed in the suit that had been left in the room for me when I arrived.
I wore the cologne I was commissioned to and was ready for the day. At the fancy mansion where the photoshoot was being held, I listened to the plan and stripped down to change into the tiny underwear they gave me while I stood in a tent near a pool. The spray tanning began and I kept my eyes closed and my arms spread out. I turned on cue, then smiled and thanked the girl when she was done.
Walking to the dressing room near the pool, I changed into the boy shorts that had the clothing company’s logo emblazoned on them. I hugged my co-model who was wearing a swimsuit with the matching pa
ttern to mine.
We posed together, and when I got to dip my feet in the pool, it was heaven. As soon as there was a break, I went and grabbed my phone. There was a text from Trent—one of my hookups here—who obviously knew I was in the city. Why was I even second-guessing this?
On impulse I phoned Marshall. “Hey, how are you?”
“Good, how’s everyone there? Tiring?”
“Ah, I forgot you’ve worked with this brand too. Yeah, not so bad. The time flies by.”
“For sure. Here too. The new pup is settling in okay. We’ll probably go to the
countryside again soon.”
“So strange hearing you talk of breaks and country air.” I laughed.
“Ain’t that true. And I couldn’t be happier.” The joy could be heard over the phone line.
“And Jamieson, did you hear if he’s okay?”
He let out a strange sound between a chuckle and a grunt. “You could call him for yourself?” He was quiet when I said nothing. “Damn, Lola is chewing the TV remote! I have to go.”
“Oh, me too. Shit, I need to get back to the photoshoot.”
They made us pose more times than I could count, and where I usually had no qualms about it, today it was annoying. I accidentally let out a sigh after one more change and then quickly apologized.
For the next three weeks of photoshoots and ad work, I was determined to stay focused and show them I was the man for the job. I never gave less than one hundred and ten percent, so at least this was a one-off situation and I could rectify it. There was no way I was going to let anything ruin the best job I’d ever had.
At the next photoshoot, the photographer praised me, and I heard him tell Brenna that he loved working with me and that I was exceptional in front of the camera. Even if I had to force myself and repeat a mantra of “No Jamie” numerous times, I would do it.
A couple of weeks later, near the end of the job, I was getting dressed at the end of the day when the photographer asked me if I wanted to go to dinner. I politely declined and went to the hotel lobby and ordered a meal.
Carter (Mayfair Model Series Book 2) Page 10