Chapter 9
Nine
Hayden
He looks good in my kitchen, perching himself on the table and drinking the fresh iced tea I made him.
He doesn’t once look at the chairs until his feet get tired and he needs somewhere to rest them.
I chuckle at that, walking out to the grill and checking on the burgers.
I didn’t know what he was going to request, but I sure as heck didn’t think it would be something so simple.
The fries are all done on the stove top when I come back in from plating the patties. I open the oven door and grab an oven mitt to set the pan of toasted buns beside the fries before turning the control knob to off.
“Something smells delicious.”
“Yeah? It’s all about done too. What do you like on your burger?”
“Everything.” He stretches his legs out, scrolling on his phone.
“Onions, tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, and mustard?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Everything but the mustard.”
I snort. “And that’s why I ask.”
“Thanks for doing this,” he says, turning toward me, his phone resting on his leg.
“Yeah, sure thing. I gotta eat anyway, so what’s setting a little extra on the grill?”
“You come all the way out here between working on set?”
“No. Not every day. I’m staying at the hotel across the way for convenience, and so it’s less likely I’ll stay in bed versus coming in.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to leave here either. It’s like your own personal little paradise. You’ve got the lake only a short walk away, your own private pool, and a huge library of books in your living room. What more do you need?”
Nothing now that you’re here. We could have all this together, and he won’t have to go anywhere ever again. “The money I get from working.”
He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I guess there’s that. I’ve been saving my money, though, and if everything keeps going the way it has been, I should be able to retire in about ten years or less.”
“I’m sure it will. You’re a great actor, and as of now I can tell everyone’s fighting to have you in their movie.” I walk to the fridge to take out the veggies, then return to the counter to pull out the cutting board from one of the lower cabinets as he sits quietly.
“Am I wrong?” I ask, looking back at him with my knife hovering over the half-sliced onion.
“Yes and no,” he says, sounding less optimistic than only minutes ago. “I mean, my manager has been getting a lot of calls, but they aren’t always for the right movies. She wants me to branch out more. Says it’ll be better for my career.”
Maybe for your career but not for you. “And how do you feel about it?”
His jaw twitches. “I don’t think I’d be happy in some rom-com or action film role.”
Because neither of those are meant to be your true calling. What he does now isn’t either, but at least it’s the perfect stepping stone. “You could always try one and see, unless you’re really opposed to the idea.”
“Yeah, I could, but even thinking about saying yes leaves me feeling miserable.”
“You gotta do what makes you happy in the long run, otherwise you’ll burn yourself out a lot quicker and start hating the person you’ve become.” I move from cutting the onions to slicing the tomatoes.
“Yeah. I think that’s what happened to my dad. My mom put so much pressure on him about bringing in more money, and shortly after landing a job he had zero interest in doing, he started working and living his life on autopilot. He didn’t only check out at the office but at home too.”
I frown, putting everything together on a plate for him before tending to my own food. “Yeah, that’s tough. I think that’s what led my dad to all that drinking.”
“That’s how he really died, isn’t it?”
Turns out I don’t have to tell him the truth. He’s slowly figuring it out on his own because he sees me for me, the same way I do him. “Yeah. It is. I often tell people it was cancer because the alternative makes for a more awkward conversation I don’t care to have.”
“Sorry you’ve had to deal with all that.”
“And I’m sorry you had to suffer through a father who was there physically but not when it counted the most.”
“Do you have as many depressing talks with other people as you do with me? I wouldn’t blame you if you’d rather eat with someone else after this.”
I let out a soft laugh. “I don’t typically have many talks with anyone at all, so either kind feels nice when they happen.
I don’t usually like all the pressure others bring with them, making me feel like I either need to carry the conversation or figure out the things they like beforehand.
But around you, everything just feels easy. ”
His lips curve up a little. “Easy is nice sometimes.”
“It is.” I set the plates on the table and he moves to one of the empty chairs, tugging one toward him.
I sit in the one closest to him, setting the pitcher of tea in the center, and when he takes the first bite of his burger, his moan echoes around the room. “That’s a good burger.”
I smile around a fry. “Happy to have your approval.”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be only mine you’d get with cooking skills like these.” He pops a fry into his mouth and makes another sound that goes straight to my cock.
“Anyone can throw patties on a grill and slice up some potatoes. It’s a basic fast-food meal.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean it’ll always taste good.
” He slams his hand on the table, stars taking over his eyes.
“This . . . man . . . this right here is probably the best basic fast-food meal I’ve ever had in my mouth.
And I’ve had lots in my mouth before.” His face hardens.
“Uh . . . that didn’t come out the way I meant it to. ”
I burst out laughing, bumping his shoulder with mine. “You’ve had lots in your mouth, huh?” I waggle my brows and his face flushes.
“Yeah, I take it back. Your cooking’s shit.”
My laughter rumbles and I sip my tea before saying, “I believed what you were saying more when you were moaning like a porn star.”
He makes a choking noise and shoots daggers at me, chasing his food down with his drink. “You’re an asshole.”
I snort, biting into my burger, and fuck, he’s right. This is good. Everything needs to be perfect when it comes to him. He’s worth the extra effort.
“You trying to kill me?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Oh, I could tell. What were you going to tell Lisa if I were to fall dead from choking from your terrible jokes, huh?”
“Don’t worry. I’d never let that happen.
” He wouldn’t be able to use the new knife I got him if I did.
Or the other gifts I plan on leaving him.
There’ll be so many more too. My boy only deserves the best props for all the movies we’re going to make together, and the only award he’ll need and will be more than happy receiving is my praise.
“I don’t know, that was a pretty close call, and it’s nice to know how familiar you are with the sounds porn stars make in the bedroom.”
“Who said anything about the bedroom?” I grin. “Nice to see where your head is.”
“I . . . you . . .” He huffs, rolling his eyes at me. “I think I’m ready to go back now,” he says, with his relaxed expression not matching his words.
“Do you really?” I cock my head, leaning more in his direction.
“No.” A laugh escapes him. “This is actually the first time I’ve felt like I could breathe in weeks.”
“Good. Glad I could help.”
“Me too.” He goes back to nibbling on his food, his body leaning toward me as if we were two magnets always meant to find each other.
We finish our food in silence, and when I offer him a tour of the house, he quickly jumps out of his chair with his empty plate in his hand.
Laughing, I pile his dirty dishes on mine and set them in the sink. He helps me wipe down the table without me asking, and then he’s right on my heels as I take him to the finished basement.
“Not sure why I’m over here following an almost stranger to their dark basement without thinking it through, but I think it’s too late for me to change my mind now.” He looks back up the stairs as we reach the bottom. I chuckle and flip on the lights, and his face brightens.
“This isn’t like any basement I’ve seen.” He marvels at the large flat screen TV on the wall and the large black leather couch that has two sides that recline. “This is incredible. You really have everything.”
With him standing in the middle of all my other possessions, I have to agree.
His attention moves to the other side where all my gym equipment is. “This setup is even better than the one at the studio.”
“That’s not hard to do,” I say flatly.
“You’re right.” His tone shifts to a higher octave, and he tries out two of my weight machines before falling back on the comfortable cushions of my couch.
I lower myself beside him and we sit here running through a bunch of random topics.
He opens up more about himself and his childhood, then talks about how he never imagined he’d be where he is now and how selfish he has to be to feel like something’s missing.
“Having all your needs met in this short life we’re given isn’t selfish at all.”
He turns his face toward me, his cheek pressing tightly to the couch. “It really does feel short sometimes, especially when time is moving faster than I am.”
“That’s why it’s important we make the best of it any way we can. If you’re not happy, then figure out why and fix it.”
He lets out a heavy breath. “I wish it were that easy.”
“It might be easier than you think.” I stroke his chin with my fingers and he vibrates against me, eyes fluttering closed. They open seconds later and he jumps forward, touching the spot I did, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Can we see your pool now?”
“What about the rest of the inside of the house?”
“I have a feeling I’ve already seen the best parts inside. Now I wanna see the best parts outside.”
Not all of them. He hasn’t seen the filming room yet that I usually disguise as the guestroom. Not that I’ve had many other guests aside from him. “Okay. If that’s what you want to do next.”
“It is,” he says, with excitement ringing in his tone, and he jumps from the couch, offering me his hand.
I take it and he smiles as I let him help pull me to my feet.
He’s so busy thinking about where I’m taking him that he doesn’t notice how long we’re holding hands for.
Not even when we’ve reached my back patio and he stares is in awe at all the decor I have surrounding the pool meant to mimic the beach.
“Now this . . . this is the best part.”
I squeeze my fingers around his, taking in his glimmering eyes and the happiness beaming in his face. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
He looks at me and then my hand, his smile growing. “You think we could go swimming?”
I look at the water and nod. “Yeah, if you think you have the time for it.”
“Lisa wants us getting proper exercise in between working, so all I’m doing is trying to abide by her rules.”
“I’ll go get us some shorts to swim in, then, and you keep standing here, thinking about being in the water.”
His hand breaks from mine and he pulls off his shirt, kicking off his slides.
“No need for that. I have the perfect swimwear right here.” He winks, shoving down his basketball shorts, and stands beside me like a beacon of light in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
And just like that, this becomes my new favorite thing, and I can’t wait to see what might replace it.