Chapter 28
MATTHEW
Bringing Louis down to the studio turned out to be a gross miscalculation, but the thought of sending him back to his apartment had me making the suggestion on impulse.
Every encounter, every moment spent with him left me more and more reluctant to let him go.
And with the knowledge that the end of our time together was rapidly approaching, I was greedy for every additional second that I could get.
The studio space wasn’t very big, so after taking a few minutes to show him my equipment, I’d sat him down in the recliner in the corner and gotten to work.
I’d been self-conscious at first, wasting several takes as a result of the distraction.
Then, just as I’d finally begun to settle into a groove, I’d arrived at a shower sex scene, which had gotten me so turned on I’d had to pause recording while Louis and I jerked each other off.
As we cleaned each other up, Louis thanked me for bringing him down here but offered to go upstairs, citing the fact that he was an obvious distraction. And while that was definitely true, the thought of letting him out of my sight had me feeling panicky in ways I didn’t dare examine closely.
“Please stay,” I’d said, kissing his nose and gently nudging him back into the chair. “We got it out of our system. I’ll be much more focused now.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
I’d been a liar.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. I had been more focused for the first bit, finding that in some ways it was actually easier to perform the scenes with an audience.
He did his best to stay quiet while I recorded, but his face was nearly as loud as his mouth, and became a good gauge of whether the words I read landed as I’d intended them to.
But then I arrived at chapter forty-two. I knew this scene was coming, had prepped it just a couple of hours ago upstairs. But there was something about reading it aloud that had me realizing just how much the emotions playing out on the page mirrored the way I was feeling in real time.
There was a part of me that wanted to put a halt to this, to send Louis upstairs and let him know I’d be up in another hour or so.
But there was another part of me—the part that liked to torture myself, apparently—that wanted to see his reaction as I read it.
I wanted to know if any of the feelings being expressed by these characters mirrored any of his own. They certainly mirrored some of mine.
“So, that’s it, then? You’re heading back to the city, just like that?”
“It’s time. Past time. You knew my coming back here was only temporary.”
I swept my Stetson off, angrily raking my fingers through my hair as I stared at the man I’d loved nearly my whole life. “Were you even going to say goodbye? Or do I mean so little to you?”
“Jesus, Philip,” Sam exploded, eyes glittering in the dim light of the sun, just beginning to rise. “Don’t you know by now that you’re everything to me?”
I took a step forward, crowding into his space. “You’ve got a strange way of showing it.”
I dared a glance at Louis, wondering what he made of this scene. Hands clasped in front of him, sitting on the edge of the chair, eyes locked on mine, he was riveted.
I turned my eyes back to the words in front of me.
His lips slammed into mine, causing me to drop my hat in the dirt and cling to him with both hands.
I kissed him with everything I had. All the love I’d buried for years, never thinking he’d be available to receive it.
The anger I’d felt when I’d caught him sneaking into the garage this morning, packed bag in his hands.
The hurt at the realization that he could so easily toss me aside after all this time.
That one stung the most. He’d just said I was his everything, but how could that be if he was so eager to leave without a goodbye?
I shoved him away from me, the flames of anger burning hot in my veins. “No, goddammit. You don’t have the right to kiss me like that. Not if you’re too chickenshit to say goodbye.”
“I couldn’t.” His voice wobbled and he turned away from me. “Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Then don’t.”
I looked at Louis as I said the next line, no longer sure whether I was speaking for the character or for myself.
“Don’t go.”