Chapter 10 #2
The question was right up there with “How’s the weather?” in terms of conversation starters between the two of them. Drew launched right into his recap of the day’s events, good, tedious, and funny.
The conversation kept them going until the chefs brought out their meals to explain and serve them themselves. Both of the young men gaped when they saw who would be eating their food.
“Drew Oberlin,” one of them said, starry-eyed and flushed. “I love your work. Like, I love it so much. Cooked was everything to me.”
“Cooked was amazing,” the other one agreed. “I can’t believe you’re actually about to eat my food.”
“It looks amazing,” Drew said, turning on all his charm. “You guys are awesome. I learned a lot about the restaurant business filming the show, and chefs like you are the real superstars.”
The man was just so damn personable when people approached him. It made Lee’s heart swell with pride in his boyfriend.
Even if Drew wasn’t really his boyfriend.
Though it sure as fuck felt like it.
“Can we get a picture with you?” the first chef asked, even though the instructor looked on in disapproval. “With the food, of course,” he added.
“Sure. Come around so we can all squeeze in,” Drew answered.
The next few minutes were spent not only taking selfies, but with Drew posing with the food and drawing Lee into the fun.
By the time the instructor pulled the chefs away from the table and marched them back into the kitchen, the two guys had more juicy pics of Drew than they would probably know what to do with.
Although within half an hour, it seemed like they knew exactly what to do.
Just as Drew was in the middle of saying, “I seriously need to learn how to cook for real. That was one thing I didn’t get a chance to do on the set of Cooked,” as they finished up their puddings, Lee began to notice more and more sets of eyes peering around the corner to where they were sitting.
“I had to learn to cook out of necessity,” he said, idly chatting, but with increasing awareness that they were very much being watched. “I’ve never really liked ready-made meals or things you just toss in the cooker or the microwave, so that means I’ve had to learn how to cook.”
“And you’re very good at it,” Drew said, saluting him with the last of his wine before drinking it and setting his glass down. “I always enjoy what you give me to eat.”
Lee nearly choked on his tiramisu. If that wasn’t a big, fat, gay euphemism, he didn’t know what was. But coming from Drew?
“I aim to please,” Lee grinned, sliding his hand across the table to where Drew’s fingers still rested against the bottom of his glass.
Drew’s gaze dropped to where their fingers touched, then rose slowly to meet Lee’s eyes. The heat there was palpable, but it was also restrained. Restrained in a way like it was dying to break free.
“Drew, you know you can tell me if—”
The vulnerable question was interrupted by a flash off to their side. They both turned to find a young man with spiky red hair holding up his cell phone at them.
“Whoops,” the guy said, looking genuinely shocked. “I didn’t realize the flash was on. I’m really sorry.
“It’s okay,” Drew said, though Lee could tell he didn’t really mean it. To Lee he said, “We should probably get going.”
That was an understatement, but by the time they called one of the wait staff over, paid their bill, and stood, it was already too late. A throng of paparazzi was waiting for them just outside the restaurant door.
“Drew, is it true you and Lee are engaged?” one of them shouted.
“Turn this way, Drew!” another called out.
“This is all just fake, isn’t it,” a third accused them, stepping forward with their cell phone at the ready.
“Hey, Lee and I are just trying to have a nice dinner out. Could we do this some other time?” Drew addressed them all, irritated.
“Are you using Drew to get a book deal?” the first reporter called out to Lee as Drew took his hand with one hand and pulled out his cell phone to make a quick call, probably to his driver with the other.
“What? No!” Lee scowled at the reporter.
“Then what are the two of you doing together?” one of the other reporters called out as the whole group followed him and Drew down the street. “Is the sex any good?”
“What the hell?” Lee snapped.
“Don’t answer,” Drew said, picking up his pace once he’d finished the call. “They get paid more money if they get a picture of you acting out or losing your temper.”
It was vile, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. Drew had had the right idea when he’d called for a car. Lee was relieved beyond measure when it pulled up from a side street and the driver leapt out to open the back door for them.
They were safe inside the car and moving on in no time.
“That was creepy as hell,” Lee said, slightly breathless, as they drove on.
“I wish I could say I wasn’t used to it, but things have been like this now and then since the show came out.”
Lee hated that for Drew. He was just a normal person. No one should have to be chased by reporters and photographers just for succeeding at what they’d always wanted to do.
It wasn’t just the restaurant. As the driver pulled up to the gate of the apartment complex where Drew was staying, they spotted a whole other gang of paparazzi.
“Shit,” Drew grumbled, slinking down in his seat a little.
Lee spoke before thinking, “Do you want to come over to my place?” he asked. “I don’t think they’ve figured out where I live yet.”
Drew looked up at him from where he’d slumped. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Lee said with a smile.
“Let’s do that, then,” Drew said, relieved.
Lee gave the driver directions, and within twenty minutes, they’d left the paparazzi behind and pulled onto the quiet square where Lee lived.
“I haven’t been to this part of London yet,” Drew said once they were out of the car and had said goodbye to the driver. “It’s nice, kind of quaint.”
Drew laughed as he walked up the steps to the door of the old Victorian terraced house containing his flat.
“I’ve seen pictures of when this square was first built in the eighteen-eighties,” he said, unlocking the outer door and letting them inside, then heading to the staircase that would take them up to his second-floor apartment.
“It looks exactly the same now as it did back then. Exactly.”
“This is what I love about London,” Drew said, his shoulders unbunching and his expression relaxing now that they were sheltered from the greedy world outside. “The continuity between now and an earlier age is in everything.”
“It’s home,” Lee said with a shrug as they reached his front door.
He didn’t think his apartment was much to look at, but Drew glanced around in wonder as soon as they entered. “This is great,” he said, moving straight into the center of the main room and brushing his hand along the back of Lee’s small sofa. “Definitely a writer’s apartment.”
“What makes you say that?” Lee laughed, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the old-fashioned coat stand he’d bought at a charity shop years ago.
Drew shrugged as he turned a circle, looking around. “It’s got character. I love the way you’ve decorated it.”
The decorations were a mish-mash of charity-shop finds and a few prints of his earlier book covers that he’d had made toward the beginning of his career.
Nothing really matched, but the furnishings were all comfortable and his desk sat in the window that looked out over the garden in the center of the square.
Drew finished turning his circle and stood facing Lee. Something in his eyes was darker and deeper than Lee was expecting. And he definitely didn’t expect Drew to say, “It’s got you in it.”
Lee smiled, a fluttery feeling taking over his insides. “I’m just me,” he said, glancing down for a second like he needed a break from eye contact to remind himself this was all pretend.
“You’re perfect,” Drew said quietly and a little awkwardly. He seemed to catch himself immediately and stumbled to say, “I mean, you’re a great guy.”
“Thanks.”
The moment was way too intense for just having walked into the apartment. Lee hadn’t even had a chance to take off his shoes or offer Drew a drink yet. He hadn’t even stopped to wrap his head around the fact that Drew Oberlin was in his apartment, making eyes at him.
“Do you want to watch telly or something?” Lee offered too fast, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I can get you something to drink, tea maybe, if you’d like.” He bolted for the kitchen.
“I don’t really need anything,” Drew said watching him as he fumbled his way around the kitchen, fighting the powerful pull to put the moves on Drew and invite him to check out the bedroom. “But TV sounds nice. Or telly, as you Brits say.”
Lee laughed. It was a nervous release of energy.
He moved back into the main part of the apartment.
Drew walked around the far end of the couch and he walked around his end.
The two of them met in the middle and just stared at each other, grinning and filling the room with charged energy, before sitting.
Sitting close and snuggled together.