Chapter 22
Ezra
“It’s starting.”
At Grayson’s words, I drop the dish I’d been rinsing in the sink and round the island, drying my hands on my pants as I go. “Let me see.”
He shifts his phone screen in my direction. In bold letters is a headline from an online rag.
“Could Ezra Gold and Grayson Fox’s bromance be a romance?”
“Oh, good grief,” I mutter. “So unoriginal.”
Grayson starts to read, paying me no mind. “‘Movie star Grayson Fox has been spotted arriving at Gold’s home at all hours of the day and staying through the night.’”
“Ooh la la,” I intone, waggling my eyebrows. Grayson shoves my face away without even looking, and I laugh.
“‘Although the stars’ agent is currently unavailable for comment, the two have been reported not to be actively working together on roles now that filming for A Worthy Deception has wrapped. Which begs the question: what are they doing all hours of the night at Gold’s home? Surely not sleeping.’”
My phone pings. Most likely a message from Shawn.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Grayson. He’s my first priority. Always.
He sighs, scrolling down to see a picture of himself in his car right outside the front gate. It’s slightly blurry but clearly him. “People are so fixated on sex.”
“They are,” I agree.
“They can’t imagine it being anything else.”
I place a kiss on Grayson’s temple, and his shoulders lose some of their tension. “If they can’t fathom love without sex, it’s their loss.”
He sets his phone on the counter, face down. “They don’t know it’s love. They just think we’re boning. That’s not even why I’m upset.”
“Why are you upset?” I ask, sitting on the stool next to him.
Grayson’s chest rises and then falls with his swooping breath.
“It’s like…everyone assumes the most important relationship they’ll have in their life is a romantic one.
They want the one . They want the person they’ll share passion with and go on dates with.
They want to settle down and maybe have a family.
They want romance, and as soon as they have that, it eclipses everything else. ”
The light catches Grayson’s eyes as he turns my way, the blue so light it’s nearly clear. There’s an urgency in his gaze, the same present in his voice.
“What about friendship? What about family? Why can’t a person feel fulfilled if they never marry? Why can’t the absolute love of my life be my best friend?”
The last question is asked so forcefully, I’m nearly brought to my knees, never mind the stool I’m sitting on.
“It can be,” I say softly.
He flicks his hand toward his phone. “Yet they think it’s about sex. As if there couldn’t be a better reason.”
I let out a slow breath. “I have an idea. What would you say to getting out of here for a couple days?”
Grayson looks intrigued. “Where would we go?”
My lips quirk. “Somewhere…quiet.”
Grayson and I pack a bag each before getting in my Escalade and hitting the road.
I’ve been wanting to bring him to this planetarium for years, knowing his love of the stars and all things cosmic.
But there never seemed to be a good time where we both had breaks in our schedules or where life in general wasn’t pressing against us from all sides.
Well, fuck that. We’re making time.
Not only is the planetarium out of dodge, but it runs shows on the weekends. I bought tickets for tomorrow night before we left, which gives us a good day to fill in the meantime.
Not that we’ll have a problem finding something to do.
Grayson glances over at me when I finally take the turn onto our exit several hours from home. “Just a break or are we stopping?”
“We’re stopping,” I confirm.
He’s quiet, which means he’s likely figured it out. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. This venue is fairly notorious for its spectacular visual presentations .
Grayson and I drop our bags at our hotel first, and I take a few minutes to search my phone for a distraction.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter, finding the perfect thing.
Grayson eyes me. “Do I want to know?”
“If Shawn calls, we were very, very good on our trip.”
My friend tips his face toward the ceiling. “Christ. Someone save me from Ezra Gold.”
I laugh, and Grayson shoots me a small smile.
Before heading out the door, we don our baseball caps, doing what we can to hide who we are.
More often than not, it’s a losing battle, but it’s also fun, seeing how long we can blend in and be inconspicuous.
Like real-life versions of the undercover agents we sometimes play.
The dunes are only a twenty minute drive from our hotel. Grayson gives me a look once I park.
“It’s safe,” I assure him, tacking on a quiet, “ ish .”
He heaves out a breath, but he’s the first to exit the vehicle. I follow quickly behind, loping to catch up to my long-legged friend.
The dune buggies are rentable by the hour.
The attendant gives us an extended glance, probably wondering if the two guys who look like movie stars from some of the most popular action flicks of the day are, in fact, the real deal.
But he doesn’t ask, just hands over keys and gives us a spiel about safety as we sign the necessary waivers.
Once we’re heading toward our buggy, I hear a curse. I’m guessing the attendant finally saw our signatures.
“He’s onto us,” I hiss.
Grayson’s eyes are filled with amusement as he looks my way. “You know what that means.”
“Go, go, go!” I shout, breaking into a sprint.
Grayson laughs as he chases after me. I catapult into the driver’s seat of our buggy, going through the open window feet-first, ignoring the door altogether.
Grayson opens his, but he’s quick to rush inside.
I turn the ignition, glance back one last time at the attendant who’s gaping at us, and then I floor it.
Grayson’s laughter is nearly as loud as the engine, and I can’t help but grin in response.
He needs this. Fun. An escape every once in a while.
It’s not that Grayson is a glum person, but he takes his responsibilities seriously.
Being a dad. His career. Even the persona he shares with the world, a carefully controlled shell of who he really is.
And I understand that. You can’t give the public all the pieces of yourself. They’d chew them up and spit them right back out. Some things are too important to let outside of your chest. They’re safer there, tucked away and kept close.
But I also know this lifestyle weighs on Grayson more than it does me. He doesn’t love being an actor in the same way I do. He enjoys it, sure. And he’s good at it. But sometimes I wonder why he got into acting in the first place. Why he wasn’t an astronomer or, perhaps, a librarian.
I chuckle at the visual of Grayson surrounded by books. Piles of them. Towers. A giant shield between him and the world.
The limelight… It’s not for him.
Sand kicks up behind the buggy as I press on the gas.
Grayson is holding on to the roll bar, a wide grin on his face as we bounce along, the sun beating down on us from overhead.
It only takes a couple minutes before the attendant’s station is out of sight, rolling hills of sand surrounding us on all sides.
It feels as if we’re in our own desert oasis .
Reaching the bottom of a hill, I do a few donuts, the back end of the buggy skidding in a way that has Grayson letting loose a few choice swear words.
His voice carries above the noise of the engine. “You’re not a stuntman.”
“Semantics.”
He braces a hand on the dash.
After a good twenty minutes, I pull the buggy to a stop, grinning at my friend. “So?”
“You’re a menace.”
Yeah, well, he doesn’t sound too upset about that fact.
Grayson slaps my shoulder. “My turn, hotshot.”
I unclip my seat belt, and the two of us trade places, an awkward feat in the confines of the small caged cab. Once Grayson is seated behind the wheel, he belts himself in and looks over at me, the brim of his ballcap shielding his face from the sun. The glimmer in his eye catches me off guard.
“What?” I ask slowly.
His lips pull into a smirk. “I think you forgot I once trained to play a racecar driver.”
Oh, shit. I did.
With a sly grin that’s entirely unbefitting my friend, Grayson straightens the brim of his cap, faces forward, and guns it.
I laugh wildly as we fishtail, the wind rushing past us once the wheels gain traction against the sand.
Grayson drives like a bat out of hell, taking turns at a far higher speed than I dared, zigging and zagging and racing over hills quick enough for us to go airborne for a second or two before landing and continuing onward.
Shawn would never believe me if I told him Grayson is the daredevil he should have been worried about all along. Not that our agent will hear a word about this .
As our hour draws to a close, Grayson drives us back in the direction of the attendant.
He barely slows, only slamming on the brakes in the last couple seconds, turning the wheel harshly such that we spin twice in a controlled slide before coming to a perfectly parked position beside the other vehicles.
“Good God,” I say to Grayson, more than a little impressed. “If we ever need a getaway driver, you’re up.”
He chuckles, straightening his cap once more before unclipping himself. The attendant’s eyes are big as we walk his way. Grayson slaps the keys onto the counter in front of him. “Thanks. That was fun.”
The guy’s eyes stay on my friend as he walks off. “Is that…?”
“Yep,” I answer.
His gaze pings my way next. “And you?”
I give him a wink. “Sure am.”
I chuckle to myself as I follow Grayson through the nearly empty parking lot. We slip into my vehicle, Grayson smiling almost serenely as he gazes out the window.
“Hungry?” I ask, fairly sure I know the answer.
“As a horse.”
We decide on takeout, bringing it back to the hotel so we can eat in privacy. Grayson wolfs down his burger at the tiny table inside our room, finishing it in four bites. I eat a little slower, my heels on the end of the bed, our drapes open to let in some light.
“We should do this more often,” I tell him.
“What? Disregard the no reckless behavior part of our contracts?”
I huff a laugh. “No. Just…get out. Go somewhere. Madison is in college now, you’re divorced, we can just…go.”
“When we’re not filming?”
I shrug. “Or film less. ”
Grayson looks at me carefully, chewing his fries before speaking. “You want to take a step back?”
“Maybe,” I admit. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Shit’s about to change for us anyway. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to…slow down a little. It might be nice, actually.”
Grayson considers that for a long moment. “What would we do?”
I lean toward him, my grin huge. “We could see all the places we’ve wanted to visit but haven’t had a chance to. Go skydiving. Read more. Find the most obscure antiques shops in the tiniest towns across the world. Finally learn how to make meringue.”
He looks amused. “That’s quite the varied list.”
“We could do whatever we want, Gray,” I say more seriously. “We could even sit at home and do nothing at all. We could be so boring the world forgets about us.”
Grayson’s smile is rueful. “Somehow, I doubt that’s possible.”
“Then we ignore them.” I drop my feet to the floor, my heart hammering.
I’m not sure how to explain this frantic edge I’m feeling.
Even so, I try my best. “In a few years, we’ll be fifty.
Fifty . We’re not young anymore. Our lives could easily be half over, and I just…
I want to make the most of what I have left. With you.”
Grayson swallows heavily, his lips pressing together for a moment as if he’s doing his best to stow his emotions.
Pushing away from the table, he stands and motions for me to do the same.
The second I’m out of my seat, Grayson’s arms come around me tight.
He’s safe and warm, and my breath stutters with it.
My friend speaks softly. “We have time. What is it you said to me the other day? It’s just now hitting you? ”
I nod, my throat tight.
“I know what this is, Ez. I knew the moment you asked me to move in what you were really asking. I said yes, and I mean it. It’s you and me. For the rest of our lives. Unless you get sick of me.”
“Impossible,” I croak.
He squeezes me a little tighter. “Then I’m not going anywhere. We have time. You have me , okay? You won’t lose me.”
I exhale in a swift whoosh, wondering how it’s possible for one person to understand me so completely. “I’d leave it all behind for you.”
His breath puffs out. “I know. But I don’t need you to.”
God .
“I love you,” I tell him, needing to say the words. “I love you madly. I know you know that, but I do, Gray. No matter what happens, no matter what they say, don’t doubt that for a second. We were made for this. To be together. I’m sure of it.”
Grayson turns his face, his lips pressing to the side of my head. “I have never in my life doubted you. I’m not about to start now.”