Chapter 17
seventeen
. . .
Drew had a hell of a lot to think about over the next few days. First and foremost was the fact that Lee had been right about the two of them not jumping into bed at the end of a day that had been weird at best and blazingly uncomfortable at worst.
Then again, maybe fucking it out would have made them both feel better.
His ego still stung a little bit at being turned down.
He hated to be that guy, but he hadn’t had anyone say no to sex with him for ages, if ever.
Not only had the rejection smarted, he also felt guilty for sulking on top of that.
New relationships were a fucking minefield.
Even if Lee had been a woman, things would have been challenging.
His career was not conducive to dating, no matter how much time he tried to set aside for Lee over the next week.
The production was entering a period of night shooting, which meant his schedule, his body, and his free time were totally messed up.
And he wasn’t entirely certain Lee had forgiven him for their sort of fight the other night.
“Are you sure you want me here while you’re working?” he asked Lee three days after that night, as he reclined on Lee’s sofa, reading and resting up for his mid-afternoon call.
“Yeah, it’s great having you here,” Lee mumbled, distracted, as he stared at his computer screen. He’d told Drew earlier he was editing that week, which, as far as Drew could tell, meant him staring at the computer as he scrolled through an endless document, occasionally changing something.
“Can I get you a tea or something?” Drew asked, moving like he would get up.
“No, I’m good,” Lee said, his voice as distant as if he were in the Andes.
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
He sat back down again, picked up his book, and frowned at the page, reading the same paragraph three times before he could make sense of it.
Something was wrong between the two of them, but he had no idea what it could be.
Unless it was the obvious. Unless Lee was somehow still bent out of shape about the other night.
Or his reaction to breaking up with Jessica.
Or something having to do with his mom and his brother.
Fuck, it could be anything.
At least they’d managed a lively make-out session when Lee took a break for lunch.
It wasn’t enough, though. It wasn’t just that Drew was horny and excited about all the new sexual doors that had opened in his life.
He missed Lee. He genuinely liked the man, had fun with him, liked being around him.
He dreaded the day when he finished filming Sleuth and had to go back to the States.
So much that he didn’t even want to think about it.
Maybe that was what had Lee so silent and withdrawn at the moment. Maybe he, too, knew a time was coming and coming fast when they’d have to have a serious talk about what they meant to each other and how they would manage a long-distance relationship.
That day was not today. Today wasn’t going to be about anything.
Today was him sitting on Lee’s couch, his spinning, worried thoughts zipping along in near silence as Lee worked and he rethought about a dozen life decisions.
Was it even worth being a mega-celebrity if he couldn’t make and maintain connections with the people he cared about?
And why was Lee suddenly so guarded anyhow? Drew thought they’d worked things out and come to a good place. He thought he’d been able to explain himself clearly and that he was being as physically and emotionally available for Lee as he could be.
He didn’t understand what was going on, and confusion had never been a good look for him.
Filming at night was grueling, and by the time they hit the weekend again, Drew couldn’t remember ever feeling so drained.
“It’ll get better for the last two weeks,” Sawyer reassured him as they left the set of their location shoot in London for the trailers that had been set up as dressing rooms. “Casper hates it when I’m out all night. We’ll both be glad to be on the same sleep schedule again.”
“I’m just looking forward to sleeping again, period,” Drew sighed as they neared the trailer.
“Just sleeping?” Sawyer asked, a look of mock innocence in his eyes.
Sawyer was one of the few people on set Drew had confided in about his tricky love life.
The two of them had spent a lot of time filming together and had become friends, and since Sawyer was gay and had experienced the whole celebrity coming out because of a relationship thing himself, Drew felt safe with him.
“Well, other things, too,” Drew answered with a tired grin.
“Drew!” someone called out from beyond the barrier that had been set up to keep curious fans from getting too close to the set. “Drew Oberlin!”
Drew stopped and put on the smile he wore for the fans, veering over to the barrier.
It didn’t matter how many times he’d been warned not to interact too much with people who weren’t involved with the production, he liked meeting people and giving them the tiny piece of himself that they’d come so far for.
He sensed something wasn’t right when he was halfway to the barrier. Instead of wide-eyed smiles of adoration from a small crowd of people, he was met with sharper looks and a sense of challenge from a group that looked like they were limited to press and paparazzi.
“Hey,” he greeted them generously all the same. “How is everyone doing tonight? You’re out late.”
They weren’t there for a tea party, that much was certain as soon as the first reporter called out, “Do you have any response to Jessica Nightingale’s allegations that the two of you have been dating for years and your relationship with Lee Cresswell is entirely fake?”
Drew froze before he reached the barrier. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
His heart instantly started pounding and his palms went sweaty. It didn’t help that he was still in his thick, heavy Victorian costume.
“The allegations broke this evening,” another of the reporters said. “Jessica Nightingale released a video interview with Celebrity Tea sharing everything about your years-long romance.”
“I…I haven’t seen anything, no,” Drew said, feeling like the tide was rising too fast and he was about to drown.
“She’s been everywhere on social media talking about the two of you,” the first reporter said, fishing in her jacket pocket and coming out with her phone.
“She’s posted pictures, old video, even a copy of an old lease that lists the two of you as co-renters.
She says the accusations of queerbaiting are all true and that you’re only pretending to be gay to advance your career. ”
Drew went with his first reaction, which was to laugh as if he were brushing the whole thing off. “I’m sure it’s just some kind of misunderstanding. Lee Cresswell and I are definitely together.” He winked at the reporter in an attempt to emphasize the point.
“What about Rent-A-Boyfriend?” a third reporter asked, elbowing his way between the other two to get closer to Drew. “Is it true that you hired Lee Cresswell to impersonate your boyfriend via a company called Rent-A-Boyfriend?"
“I don’t…I’m not sure…that’s not really—” He had no idea what to say or how to address the rumors. In all the time that he and Lee had known each other, they’d never once talked about what they would do if the whole truth got out. That seemed incredibly stupid and shortsighted now.
“Lee Cresswell has worked with Rent-A-Boyfriend in the past,” the reporter went on. “We’ve tracked down two other men who he’s been with, posing as their boyfriend. Is he a professional escort?”
The question hit Drew all wrong. It suggested something seedy, and Lee was anything but seedy.
He was kind and curious and smarter than almost everyone Drew had ever met.
He was an amazing kisser and had an incredible imagination.
To hear anyone even hint at the idea Lee might be some sort of plant or serial boyfriend impersonator hurt.
“Lee and I are together,” he said as firmly as he could manage. “That’s all you need to know, and that’s all I’m going to say tonight.”
He turned to go, but was followed by, “How do you respond to Jessica’s allegations, then? You haven’t made any secret of the fact that the two of you have been friends, at the very least, for years. How does this betrayal make you feel?”
He didn’t bother to answer or even to turn around. He knew how he felt, though, and betrayal was too nice a word for it.
As he stepped up into the trailer, everyone already inside dropped what they were doing and turned to stare at him.
Their expressions ranged from sympathetic to suspicious.
Even more alarming, when Drew fetched his phone from the locker where he’d stored it during the action-packed scenes they’d been filming that night, it had more or less exploded with calls and text messages.
“You okay?” Sawyer asked, coming over to the lockers to join him.
Drew glanced up from scrolling through the first few messages, which contained more or less the same outpourings of shock and expressions of concern. “You heard the accusations?” he asked.
“We’ve all heard,” Sawyer said. “The crew was all poring over their phones as soon as I stepped into the trailer. Jessica really isn’t happy.”
That wasn’t even close to what was going on.
“So…so is it true?” one of the young wardrobe assistants asked in a quiet voice as Drew pulled his street clothes out of the locker and moved to a curtained-off area to change.
He didn’t answer her. Let her take that however she wanted. He was too stunned by his life yet again being thrown for a loop to answer her. Even though it dawned on him that his silence would probably be taken as condemnation.
As he changed, he scrolled through his calls and messages to see if there was anything at all from Jessica. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t. There were a few texts and a missed call from Abby, though.