31. Will
WILL
The night of the rehearsal dinner, James strode from the bathroom of our luxury suite wearing a steel-gray jacket over a thin gray sweater.
“How do I look?” he asked, twisting from side to side so the fabric pulled taut against his lean frame.
“It’s a good fit,” I said, trying not to imagine the contrast between the cashmere and the hard muscles hidden just beneath. James was just a friend, and the sooner I accepted that, the better off I’d be. Friends were great. I needed more friends.
“Are you kidding? I look better than I did when I was your age.”
“Don’t pull that daddy shit on me. You’re nine years older. In gay years, that’s nothing. NASA lands lunar rovers with bigger margins of error than that.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t call me Daddy.” He brushed a lock of hair from my face, his finger surprisingly cool on my skin.
“Should I come back in five minutes?” Theo asked from the doorway of our adjoining suites.
James cocked an eyebrow. “Is that enough time for you, or should we make it fifteen?”
I rolled my eyes and let out a little “humph” before turning away. Unfortunately, I turned to face the bed, the bed everyone assumed I’d be sharing with James.
“How do you guys want to handle the bed situation?” I asked, aiming for a casual tone. Maybe James intended to crash with Theo.
“Well, I’m certainly not sharing with him,” Theo said, hooking a thumb toward his father. “He snores.”
“Only when I drink too much.”
Theo plopped onto the sofa. “Is Miles here yet? And are we taking a limo or walking?”
That didn’t answer my question. “We’re definitely not walking.”
This was going to be a disaster. Parading a fake boyfriend around a closed movie set was easy.
Everyone there had signed NDAs, and the cameras faced away from us.
Tonight, we’d be on full display. And thanks to some undercover paparazzo, my hard-earned anonymity was gone.
I couldn’t even sing karaoke at a hole-in-the-wall pub in Vermont without being secretly recorded. A million views and counting.
Derek saw the video and suggested I consider a Vegas residency.
My parents were less charitable. Dad said I’d never be taken seriously as an actor if I insisted on playing amateur games like some Kardashian, and Mom accused me of trying to “upstage” my brother.
“You already ruined his bachelor party. Can’t you just let him have this? ”
I slipped on my loafers and stood. “Uh-oh,” I said, taking in Theo for the first time. “You better keep your eye on Ryan tonight.”
In his burnt-orange suit and charcoal shirt, the kid could have passed for twenty-five.
Theo grinned. “What happens in Canada stays in Canada.”
Nandi was far from your typical bridezilla.
She’d been totally on board with the last-minute venue change.
She only asked that there be swans in the lagoon for the photo shoot and that the rehearsal dinner be held in a real city so they could all go clubbing afterward.
Montreal, sitting just forty minutes north of the Vermont border, was the obvious choice.
At least Miles was coming to make sure I didn’t get drunk and kill someone.
There was a knock at the door. “Room service.”
I glared at James. “We’re going to dinner in, like, twenty minutes.”
“Don’t look at me. I didn’t order anything.”
I opened the door, and the entire wedding party—Enrique, Andy, Ryan, Nandi, and three gorgeous models—charged into the room.
“We come bearing edibles,” Enrique announced, tossing me a white paper bag.
“And this.” He produced a bottle of booze from behind his back.
“This bad boy is one of only two hundred and fifty bottles ever made, and we’re not leaving this room until it’s empty.
” He spotted James standing by the bed and headed straight for him. “You must be James. I’m Enrique.”
“Nice to meet you.” James appeared unfazed by the sudden influx of movie stars and runway models, unlike Theo, who’d gone completely still.
Enrique thrust the bottle at James. “Have you heard of this vodka? It’s made from an ancient Russian czar’s recipe. It’s distilled through solid gold pipes and infused with diamonds.”
Two thoughts popped into my head: What the hell are they all doing in my room? And why would anyone want to drink diamonds?
Andy and Ryan started rounding up glasses while I stood there with my hand still on the doorknob.
Nandi stopped beside me and kissed my cheek.
“Will, you’re looking handsome. Is this your boyfriend?
” She strode over and kissed James on the cheek, too, leaving a smear of maroon lipstick.
“I’m so happy to meet you. Will has told me absolutely nothing about you, so we have a lot to catch up on. ”
“Theo, is this your room over here?” Ryan disappeared into the adjoining suite before Theo could answer.
“James,” Enrique said, taking the bag of edibles from me, “mind if I manhandle Will for a sec?”
James didn’t look up from the bottle of diamond-infused vodka. “By all means.”
“He doesn’t get to give you permis—”
Enrique lifted me off the ground in a giant bear hug. “Andy, come feel how hard your brother’s body is. He’s like a little marble statue.”
I wriggled free and smoothed my rumpled shirt. “I’m five fucking ten. I’m not little.”
“You’re five eight, don’t lie.” Andy wrapped his long, freckled arm around my shoulder. “Nandi, take a picture of us.”
Nandi took a hundred pictures, not stopping until I gave her a “proper” smile.
“This should be enough,” Ryan said, returning with an armload of glasses.
“Awesome. There’s no way we’re surviving tonight sober.” Andy pinched the back of my neck as he released me. “I don’t know how you’ve lasted a whole month with Mom and Dad in the same state, let alone on the same movie set. Remember that time they filmed that Super Bowl ad together?”
I was surprised Andy remembered. He was only four at the time, though it had been a bloodbath of marital discord.
Mom only had one line, “It’s the breast,” which she delivered in a yellow bikini while holding a chicken leg, but Dad was livid because she said it ironically, not sincerely, which he insisted “neutered” the joke.
“Who’s the stud?” Enrique made his way toward Theo, who stood in the glass-encased living room, too stunned to move, his eyes darting about the suite like some haunted medieval painting.
“Hands off, Enrique,” Ryan said. “He’s only eighteen. And you do realize that’s his dad right there, don’t you?”
Enrique looked from Theo to James and back again. “No, shit? Fuck yeah, Will, landed yourself a legit daddy.”
“Wait, that’s Mom’s new grandson?” Rather than walk around the bed, Andy opted to roll across it. “So nice to meet you. I’m your Uncle Andy.”
Standing in Times Square on New Year’s Eve in the middle of a bomb threat would’ve been less chaotic than this. “What are you all doing here? Get out.”
“Slow your roll, Will.” Enrique reclaimed the bottle. “We’re not leaving until this bad boy is empty.”
Andy glared at me. “You have no right to make demands. I’m pissed at you.
I get you not telling Mom and Dad about James, but you could’ve told me.
” He offered his hand to James. “I’m Will’s brother, Andy.
We used to be close, but now we’re just mild acquaintances who can’t even be bothered to mention our new boyfriends. ”
“I know who you are. I’m a huge fan.” James shook his hand. Of course he was a fan. My dating history fell into three categories: guys into my mom, guys into my dad, and guys into my brother. Although I wasn’t actually dating James, so whatever.
“Tell me, James,” Nandi grabbed his hand and led him into the living room, “what’s Will like in bed? Is he a biter like Andy?”
This was too much sensory input. “Enrique, hurry up and open that fucking bottle already.”
“Diamonds, Will,” Enrique said reverently. “It’s infused with diamonds. We need to give toasts and shit.”
The model in the champagne dress flitted over.
“Ohhh, I’m great at toasts. Hi, William.
I’m Monika. I loved you in The Beautiful.
How come you don’t act anymore? Did you really quit to become a kindergarten teacher?
” She didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s so amazing.
You must be, like, a Zen master. Oh, Andy showed us your video.
You’re, like, the best singer I’ve ever met, and I’ve met every Jonas Brother. ”
Ryan thrust a glass into my hand. “I didn’t get a chance to say anything yesterday, but damn, Will, that was amazing.
I think that’s going to be the best scene in the whole movie.
I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.
Like, there just wasn’t any of me left. It was all Jimmy. That’s never happened to me before.”
“I know the feeling,” Monika said. “I once slept with this chubby guy from the Peace Corps, and at first I thought I peed myself, but no, I squirted. That’d never happened to me before either.”
Jesus Christ, is this really happening? I tried to catch James’s eye, but Nandi had him in her clutches, touching his mustache—my mustache. Well, not mine. But still.
Enrique leaned in. “What’s the teenage hottie’s name again? Can he have some, too?”
“No,” I said.
Theo finally found his voice. “I’m Theo, and I love vodka.” He sounded like he was at his first AA meeting. “Plus, the legal drinking age in Montreal is eighteen.”
Enrique plucked a red hair from my shirt. “Should I ask his papi first?”
“In my country, we let the kids drink.” The tall French model in the yellow V-neck dress joined Theo. “I’m Noel. We should be photographed together tonight. We will look amazing.”
She had a point. Even in heels that put her well over six feet, she looked dainty next to Theo.
“Daddy”—Enrique made a pouty face at James—“can my future husband have some vodka? It’s infused with diamonds.”
“Just one glass because it’s a special occasion.”
Like James didn’t let Theo drink whenever the fuck he wanted.
“All right,” Enrique announced. “I’m going to open it.”