Chapter 14
14
“D ude. Zeke. Are you home?”
Was he? Probably, but he didn’t feel like answering the door today.
He had been writing and playing, answering the phone when Wesley called, and eating a lot of granola bars.
He didn’t feel like going outside.
He didn’t want to have supper or his Cape Cod or see folks.
He was busy hiding. Dammit.
“Zeke! I know you’re in there. I have a key, man. If you don’t show me some sign of life or something, I’m coming in.”
He rolled his eyes at Jamie and went to the door, scowling and wincing at the sunlight. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve got a beard!”
“I just haven’t shaved. Shoo.”
“Hey. Can I come in? Please?” Jamie stood there looking chilly with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, breath visible on the air.
“You can. Why aren’t you bundled up?” He couldn’t let Jamie stand out there and freeze. “Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?”
“I kind of ran out here on a whim. Plus, you’re too nice not to let someone in when they’re cold.” Jamie stepped inside. “Tea would be great. Thank you.”
“Sure. Have a seat.” Zeke waved toward the sofa, which was strewn with papers and guitars and boxes of tissues. “I’ll make tea.”
He put the kettle on, then made himself another cup of coffee. “Black tea? Green? Herbal?”
“Herbal, please. And then—well, honestly, dude, you need a shower.”
“Shut up.” He was busy and tired, and it was cold. He didn’t feel like it, dammit. “I’m having a cup of coffee and dealing with you.”
“Did you and Master Wesley break up?”
“No. No, I’ve just been working a lot. He’s been working his butt off.” Zeke just had been too. He’d written a dozen songs, started another twenty.
Jamie stepped closer to him. “Then what’s wrong? Zeke, you look like hell. You haven’t eaten anything real in a week.”
“I’ve eaten.” Pop-Tarts and granola bars, sure, but he’d eaten.
“Not real food. And not one Cape Cod either. No one has seen you, Zeke. Caleb is going to call Master Wesley and tell him.”
“He’d better not. I’m a paying guest. You know that. He doesn’t have the right!” He talked to Master Wesley every night. Every fucking night. And he hadn’t lied once, so fuck Caleb.
“You’re a sub and you’re Master Wesley’s, I guess.” Jamie shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
“I’ll talk to him.” He didn’t need this shit. The kettle started whistling, and he poured Jamie’s tea. “Sugar? Lemon? Milk?”
“No, thank you.” Jamie picked it up, wrapping his fingers around it. “Warm. Thank you. I’m sorry he’s not here. That must be hard.”
“Yeah, I miss him, but he’s doing good work—charity events. I only had him for a week here, so we’ve been together on the phone longer. I can’t believe it’s already been two weeks since he was gone.”
“Are you making plans? Like, to see him? Or for him to come back here?” Jamie sipped his tea. “Mm. Nice.”
“He’s traveling a lot.” And he was a little scared. He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk his little cabin. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out Wesley was perfectly happy without him. And he wanted to prove to Wesley that he was capable and strong and shit.
That he could do this.
“Is he traveling… here?” Jamie shrugged up his shoulders. “Soon?”
“I don’t know. He’s busy, and New York is a long way away and four hours ahead. That’s tough.”
And a twelve hour-ish flight for Wesley too. Now Zeke understood how hard that was.
“I just want to know you’re okay, man. And you don’t look it. That’s all. I’ve never seen you with a beard, never felt like you’d gone too long without a shower. I’ve never worried about you.”
Jamie was his closest friend, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure what that meant. “I’ve just been working my ass off. I’ve been a writing fool, you know?”
“Okay. If you’re telling me that’s all it is, I will believe you.” Jamie reached over and touched his shoulder. “But if you need help, or to talk or whatever, I’m here.”
“I appreciate that.” And he thought Jamie meant it. “Come on, sit and drink your tea. I’ll sit across the room. Unless it’s your day off…”
He didn’t even know what day it was.
“It is my day off. It’s Monday. Did you know it was Monday?” Jamie grinned at him. “You’re a mess.”
“I didn’t. So sit. I’ll jump in the shower, and then we can sit and talk, fair?”
“Sounds great. I will just enjoy my tea and maybe steal a PopTart.” Jamie laughed. “I know you have them.”
“I do. Next to the fridge.” He headed upstairs and stripped down, starting the water in the shower. He brushed his teeth as it warmed up, and he glanced at his beard in the mirror.
He liked it.
Wesley hadn’t mentioned it.
It was fine.
Jamie put on music downstairs, and it floated up to the loft. He and Jamie had that in common—they both loved music.
He didn’t linger in the shower, but he did wash himself, nice and thoroughly, before bundling up and heading back downstairs. “Ta-da! I smell like roses!”
Jamie laughed from his couch where he looked very comfy under a big blanket, sipping his tea. “You look clean too, but you still have a growth on your chin.”
“Yep. I think I’ll keep it.” He grabbed his coffee and curled up in another blanket, sitting close. “I can be a mountain man! Rawr!”
“Hey, it’s a look. I’ll get used to it. But you would make a terrible mountain man. They don’t have processed breakfast pastries in the mountains.”
“They don’t?” He started chuckling, tickled as all get-out. “Are you sure? Honey Pop-Tarts? Berry? Salmon?”
God, that sounded awful.
“Did you say salmon? Oh my god.” Jamie shook his head. “Gross. Stick to writing songs. Your jokes suck.”
“You’re just jealous because I’m so charming.” He stuck his tongue out at Jamie, winking.
“I mean… I’m sure Master Wesley sees something in you but…” Jamie stuck his tongue out.
“Absolutely. He likes the brush of beard on his balls…”
They stared at each other, then they cracked up.
“You’re the worst.” Jamie took a breath, sat up, and put his empty mug down. “So, have you sold anything this week? Who will be playing your next song?”
“I sent out a couple of demos, and there are some big names out there nibbling at a few of them.” It was so much faster these days. Electronically, this shit moved like lightning—writing to demo to recording to release.
“I still think that is so cool. You have this whole professional life, and you can do it all right from your cabin here, or anywhere you want to be.”
“Yeah. I need a decent place to record, and a computer. That’s it.” He liked to mix the demos a little bit before he sent it on. He was a decent singer, absolutely, but he wasn’t a front man.
He loved writing the music.
Zeke’s phone played his tone for Wesley, and he picked it up to look at it.
Wesley
Just got out of a meeting. Headed back to my place.
Zeke
How’s your day going?
Do you want to talk? Are you okay?
Wesley
My day went well, but it’s not ending the way I’d like because I’m not with you.
He sent a heart. Then another one and another one.
“It is him?” Jamie asked, and he nodded.
“He just got out of a meeting.”
“I can go. I should go, right?” Jamie got up. “Thank you for the tea.”
Wesley
Call me?
“Any time. Thank you for caring. Honest. I appreciate you.” He stood and gave Jamie a hard hug.
Jamie hugged him back without rushing it, then let him go. “I miss you. Come have a Cape Cod tomorrow. I’ll let myself out.”
“Bye!” He curled up with his phone as soon as the door closed and called Wesley.
“Hey, you. Thanks for calling.” Wesley sounded tired.
“Of course. How’s it going? Long day?” I miss you. So much.
“Long week. The fundraiser is tomorrow night, so I’ll sleep for a few hours, but I’ll be up before the sun to start the wheels moving. It’s going to be great. Here look.” Another couple of texts came in with pictures of a stage and a dance floor, and one of tables all decorated for the dinner party. Everything was silver and rainbows.
“It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to see you in your tux. Is everyone happy with the decor?” Are you eating? Taking care of yourself?
“Oh yeah, everyone’s excited. We all left knowing we’d be back in a few hours, but we left feeling like we’re ready.” Wesley yawned. “Excuse me.”
“No worries. You should get some soup or something on your way home. Something amazing.”
He thought Wesley liked soup…
“Hm. Maybe I’ll order something in while we’re talking. Hopefully, I can stay awake long enough to eat it. How are you? Tell me about your day.”
“I took a shower. Jamie came over. It was fine.” Fine fine fine.
“Is Jamie looking after you? I’m glad someone is.” Wesley sighed. “I miss you a lot today. Maybe that’s not very Dom-like. I guess I’m supposed to be more independent, but I want you to know.”
“I miss you too. I’m sorry you’re so tired.” He missed Wesley every day. Every damn minute. It was ridiculous.
“Oh, this is good tired. It’s the kind of tired that comes from doing good work. I’ll sleep the day after tomorrow for like two days. Maybe three.”
“Oh, that sounds perfect.” He wasn’t sleeping upstairs anymore. He was napping in his chair down here. “You can snuggle in and hibernate like a bear.”
“I can. I don’t guess you’d want to come hibernate with me? We could maybe meet halfway somewhere we can both find a direct flight. I know New York is a trek. I flew back to New York through Denver this time…”
It was an amazing idea, except that Wesley was exhausted, flights would be a challenge to get, and Wesley was scared of flying. He wasn’t going to make the sweet man fly tired. “I’d love to, but you need sleep, not an exhausted flight to Denver.”
“Mm.” Wesley sighed. “Another time then.” There was a pause and then Wesley cleared his throat. “I got Grubhub to deliver a cheeseburger. It should be there about the same time I get to my place if my driver’s GPS is to be believed.”
“There you go. What are you having on it?” Had they ever had a burger together? He didn’t know.
“Cheddar and bacon. A little mayo. Lots of pickles. And I got these big steak fries.”
“Ooh. Yum.” He wrapped the blanket around him, comforting himself. “Are you a ranch dipper? Mayo? Ketchup?”
Wesley snorted. “Ketchup all the way, boy. Ranch is for veggies and mayo goes on my sandwich.”
“I’ll remember, Sir.” He was a ranch on his fries guy. On fries. Pizza. Veg. Bread sticks.
“I know you will. Hang on.” He heard Wesley talking, a car door opening and closing, then street noise—traffic, people, a car honking at a distance. “Hey. I’m home. Just heading inside.”
“Do you need to go?” Can you stay and talk? Maybe until you fall asleep?
God, he was needy, in his own head.
Zeke blinked and grabbed a pen, scribbling that hook down.
“No, just wanted you to know what all the noise was. I’m headed into my building now so it should be quieter. Ah. Dinner is waiting for me in the lobby.” He heard the crinkle of a paper bag.
“Perfect timing! Bacon cheeseburger for the win.”
Wesley chuckled. “You made me order food. And it smells so good I might even eat it. Happy?”
He shook his head, but he found a smile. “Yes, Sir. You need to take care of yourself.”
“I do. I tend to let it slip a little this close to an event, but I get back on the wagon when things calm down. Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker.” There was some banging around that sounded like kitchen stuff—a plate, a glass of water maybe. “What are you going to have for dinner?”
“Oh, I don’t know yet. It’s still early here.” Coffee. Possibly a protein drink. He didn’t know. “So are you crazy excited for tomorrow?”
“I am. I really do think it’s going to be successful. Tickets sold out early, our sponsors are generous, the entertainment should be a lot of fun.”
“Yeah? What are you doing? A band? Comedians? Dancers?”
“A band. A drag band that does all kinds of covers. They’re amazing. And we have a comedian MC.”
“Too cool!” He wondered if they covered any of the songs he’d written. Maybe. He didn’t spread it around, but he didn’t just write country music.
“It will be. Ugh. I want you to be here. We could dance. I even got a make-your-own sundae bar. I don’t know if you’d love it, but I’d love having you.” There was lots of paper crinkling on Wesley’s end of the line, probably unwrapping the cheeseburger.
“Ice cream is proof there’s a god and they love us.” No question. “That and Pop-Tarts.”
“Are you eating anything else?” Wesley chuckled.
“I am!” He was eating a ton of granola bars. Crunch crunch crunch.
“Okay, boy. I think I should go. I’m going to eat my burger and crash. Big day tomorrow. If I can’t call, we’ll talk the next day, I promise.”
“Yes, Sir. Take care of yourself, huh? I’ll talk to you soon.” I love you. “Get some sleep.”
“The next time we talk I want you to tell me what you had for dinner tonight. For real. I’ll know if you’re lying to me.” That was Wesley’s stern tone, but then it softened. “I miss you. Be good and take care of yourself for me too. Sleep tight, boy.”
“You too.” He had work to do. He had songs to write. “I hope tomorrow is amazing. I’ll be thinking about you.”
He hung up and then grabbed his guitar and his notebook.
Please stay and talk to me,
Until I fall asleep.
Voice making promises,
My soul to keep
My heart’s damn near broken,
As I lay down in bed.
God help me, I’m needing.
Inside my own head.
Yeah, he might could work with that.