One True Thing (14 page)

gripping the steering wheel as I headed south

toward Newport Beach. Dom had rented one of the

McMansions along the coast for a weekend shoot,

and while I didn’t want to make the drive, he’d

offered me quite a bit more than my usual pay if I

came up for the day.

I drew the line at overnight stays. Wasn’t

going to happen.

My phone rang when I was about twenty

minutes out of LA. It was Archer. Archer, of

course, was the last person I wanted to talk to. I

knew he’d keep calling if I didn’t answer, though.

He always did.

“What do you need, Arch? I’m on my way to

a shoot.”

His sigh was long and lusty. “I thought you

were going to let me borrow your car today. I told

you I wanted to use it for a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date. Well, you know. I’m taking

Dusty to Manacle. I think he’ll dig it.”

The thought of Dusty, tiny, soft, gentle, at a

place like Manacle, made the hair on the back of

my neck rise. I’d only been there once, long enough

to pick Archer up when he’d needed a ride. It was

so not my scene. Bondage, restraints, lots of spikes

and leather. Even for Archer it was on the rougher

end of the spectrum.

“Arch, are you sure? That doesn’t seem like

Dusty’s kind of place.”

He scoffed. “You don’t even know Dusty.”

“Neither do you.”

Archer chuckled low. “I know he kisses like

a fucking porn star. I’m looking forward to the rest

of the show.”

The slice of pain surprised me. My brother

had to have seen my face the other night. He knew

exactly what he was doing. “You’re not going to

find out in my car. I have to work. I told you that

earlier.”

“You know what? Whatever.” Archer made a

snorting noise. “I don’t want to pick up a guy in the

shaggin’ wagon anyway. Peace.” And with that he

hung up.

The shaggin’ wagon. Seriously?
Okay, so I

drove a station wagon. It was a Volkswagen, only

a few years old, and it was nice, dammit. Plus,

there was room in the back for all my equipment.

Archer could
get
a car for once, and then his

fabulous image wouldn’t be weighed down by my

practicality anymore. I vowed to start looking at

the apartment listings as soon as I got back from

the shoot.

Dom’s weekend McVilla was lovely, if a bit

generic. Reproduction stucco and Sienna marble

on the outside, with teak floors, sea-grass

furniture, and washes of pale blues and beach-

glass greens all over the walls. It wasn’t my style.

I preferred the Art Deco of old Hollywood, but it

wouldn’t suck to live there. Especially with the

infinity pool in the backyard, complete with a

guesthouse on the other side of the yard.
Jesus.

And this place is up for rent?
It made my

apartment look like a closet.

“Hey, Asher!” The voice calling from the

other side of the pool surprised me. Josh. I’d

nearly forgotten about him with my turmoil over

Dusty, but there he was, golden and adorable,

jeans barely clinging to the round curve of his…

okay, I noticed. It was really hard not to. He

bounded around the pool to where I was, standing

in the double doors off the kitchen. Before I knew

it my arms were full of sun-warmed Josh. And I

swear, if I hadn’t turned my head into the hug, I’d

have gotten a kiss too.

“What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “Your pictures got me hired. I’m

going to make some good money this weekend.”

I couldn’t help but notice the grin hid

shakiness. “You okay?” I reached up to cup his

still downy jaw. Every protective instinct I had

wanted to help this kid. He rubbed his face into my

palm, like he hadn’t been touched in a long time.

“Just had a few shitty years.” He took a deep

breath and seemed to pull himself together. “But

things are looking up, right?”

Not exactly what I would call it.

“Trevor Diamond, we’re ready for you in the

pool house.”

His tension came back immediately. “I guess

I’m up,” he said. “See you in there.”

Slight shakiness had turned to outright

trembling by the time the clothes were off. Josh

tried to hide it, but he wasn’t into the scene. They

had to keep stopping and taking breaks, talking

about body placement and angles, but he was

clearly having a really hard time. The poor girl he

was filming with was trying to be patient, but

annoyance flashed over her face every time they

had to stop and have another pep talk with Josh. I

tried to stay unobtrusive. Another body on an

already awkward set only added to the difficulties.

Finally, though, I went closer. Josh seemed to

connect to me; he’d really
gotten
it when we were

alone in my studio. I’d thought he was a natural.

“Hey,” he muttered. It couldn’t have been

easy, failing so miserably when he probably didn’t

have too many other options.

“What’s going on?” I kicked at the side of the

bed.

Josh turned red. “It’s just… well.”

I turned to look at Dom. “Give us a minute,

okay?”

Dom grunted. “This kid is wasting money,

Ash. I need my scene.”

“Jesus. Give us a minute.”

I gave Josh a long look when the room was

cleared. “So how bisexual are you?” I asked. I

was pretty sure I knew the answer.

“Not very.” His answer was so quiet I could

barely hear it.

“And by not very you mean…?”

“Not at all. Shit, what am I going to do? I

need this fucking job.”

“Is there something else going on?” I didn’t

want to prod too much, but if there were problems,

then someone needed to know.

Josh stood up. “I told you. I just had a shitty

couple of years. I’ll be ready to do the scene in a

minute. Tell Dom to set back up.” He started to

walk toward the bathroom in the corner.

“Hey, Josh?”

He paused and turned to look at me. “Yeah?”

“Listen, I know this isn’t your deal. I’m not

sure why you’re doing it, but try to look at me. You

did really well the other day when we were

working together.”

Josh gave me a sheepish half smile. “That’s

’cause I think you’re hot.”

I chuckled softly and shook my head. “Just,

well… you know.”

WE WERE cleaning up from the scene, which had

been tooth-yankingly painful but was thankfully

done, when Josh sidled up to me.

“Hey, thanks for your help today. I don’t want

to be a diva, but….”

“But you don’t want to be straight either?”

His smile was jaded. “For most of my life,

I’d have given just about anything to be straight.

But I’m not, and I guess I can’t even pretend

convincingly.”

“So why the het porn? You’d make more

money if you just did gay.”

He shuddered. That shudder looked like

issues I wasn’t equipped to touch. “Just not ready

for that, I guess. So, um, would you want to go to

dinner? Traffic is still going to suck this early for

you, and I have another scene tomorrow—that is if

Dom doesn’t can my ass.”

“Listen, kid….”

“I’m twenty. Not a kid. And I’m not looking

for someone to take care of me. I can do that

myself. I just want dinner, you know? Some nice

conversation.”

It was a bad idea. Bad. He could get attached.

He could get hurt. “Sure, why not?” That wasn’t

the answer I’d planned, but it came out of my

mouth anyway.

“Cool. I’ll go get my jacket and shoes.”

“And a shirt?” I chuckled. He was still

shirtless, jeans pulled on after filming, but nothing

else.

“Yes. A shirt too.”

JOSH smiled hopefully at me from across the table,

all smooth skin and big eyes. I knew that look in

his eyes, not like I was one of those let ’em down

easy assholes who strung kids along and then put

them aside for the fun of it. But I’d had more than

my share of clients see me as the nice guy in a

business of assholes trying to get something for

nothing. It must’ve had its appeal. The date was

something new. Josh was my first actual gay client

—at least of the male variety.

“So where are you from, Josh?”

He squirmed uncomfortably. Apparently

home wasn’t a good topic. “Marysville. A shit

town up north. You’ve never heard of it.”

“What did you do there?”
And why did you

leave? You had to have some other option.

He shrugged, his narrow shoulders pushing up

through the fabric of his T-shirt. “I went to high

school. Then I worked at Arby’s. Nothing

special.”

When he talked about home, that cute

sparkliness disappeared. So did the smile and that

feeling like he wanted to keep talking to me

forever.

“Sorry, hon. Bad question. Have you made

any friends here?”

After that, things went better. Josh and I

chatted and ate ravioli. I even bought him a glass

of Chianti to go with dinner. I probably shouldn’t

have, but he seemed nervous. I felt wrong, sitting

across the table from his sweet smile and those

hopeful eyes. The kid really liked me, or at least

what he knew of me. But he didn’t have a chance.

’Cause when I closed my eyes for a second, the

only person I wanted sitting across the table from

me was probably getting ready at that exact

moment for a date with my brother. I hated that he

was with Archer and not me. It should’ve been

Dusty
who was sitting with me at dinner, talking

about hometowns and beach days with friends.

Archer wasn’t right for him. I knew it.

I realized Josh had been asking me a question.

While I was sitting there daydreaming about Dusty,

who was on a date with my brother. Yeah, I realize

how shitty that sounds. I felt bad.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really tired. What did you

say?”

“Oh, I have to be back at the house in an hour

or so, but do you want to drive down to the beach

for a little while?”

I knew what “going to the beach” was code

for. I knew it was a bad idea. But I still felt like a

dumbass for liking Dusty so much, and, well, I was

already at dinner with the kid. Might as well make

another bad choice.

“Uh, sure. Do you know how to get there?”

Josh laughed. “Follow the setting sun. I bet it

won’t be hard.”

It wasn’t, and about ten minutes later we were

parked in a slot overlooking a bright orange

Pacific Coast sunset. It was pretty. I itched to get

my camera equipment out and take a few nature

shots. I was in the middle of trying to decide if I

had time to set my gear up before the light changed

too much, when Josh’s hand landed on my thigh

and started to make its way north to my crotch.

“Josh.”

“Just quit. Kiss me for a few minutes. I need

something to tide me over when I have my tongue

down the next chick’s throat.”

Well, who can argue with logic like that?

Probably me. I should have at least. So I let him

kiss me, more and longer than the kiss from earlier.

I can’t say that I hated it. Or that my mind

wandered off and started thinking of Dusty…

much. I just wasn’t that into it. I tried to be, though,

since Dusty wasn’t, and probably never would be,

mine. I curled my hand around his neck and

threaded my fingers into the soft, fine hair at his

nape. He shivered in pleasure, and I felt even

worse. Josh’s hand crept further up, further. If he

managed to grab my dick, well, things were really

going somewhere. I couldn’t let that happen. I

might have been a lot of things, but I tried not to be

an asshole.

I pulled away. “Hey, it’s probably time for

you to get back to the studio and for me to start

heading home. I have a bit of a drive ahead of me,

and I’m getting tired.”

Josh regarded me quietly for a few moments.

His lips were glossy from our kisses, his hair a bit

wrecked. He smiled sadly. “I’m not going to get

you, am I?”

“Well,” I sighed. I hadn’t been planning on

sharing the story, but out it came. “I’m kind of hung