Chapter 17
seventeen
. . .
Sometimes fans weren’t all bad. In fact, the group of young women and their gay bestie who approached him at the little park near his hotel ended up being fantastic.
“I’ve been listening to all the demos you’ve put up on YouTube,” Christopher, the guy, gushed, eyes worshipfully alight, but keeping his distance and not touching Nikky without permission. “I almost think your talent is wasted on acting and you should just be a singer.”
“Oh, thanks,” Nikky replied, beaming, his heart full for no reason at all.
But there was a reason. Being liked, let alone being adored, wasn’t something he was used to.
At least not until Cooked changed his world.
Fans could be way too much for his brain to process, but the small group of friends who had recognized him and with whom he’d had an actual conversation felt more like people who could be his friends, too, under other circumstances.
“I love music,” he told them, glancing back over his shoulder to where Harry was pacing on the other side of the bench, phone to his ear, having what looked like an incredibly intense conversation with someone.
That was concerning, but he owed it to the friends to focus on them.
“Figuring out how to balance music with acting has been a real challenge.”
“You’re not going to stop acting, are you?” one of the young women who’d said her name was Olivia asked, looking genuinely worried.
“Not anytime soon,” Nikky laughed. “I’ve got several jobs lined up, but I can’t talk about them.”
“I would never dream of asking,” Olivia said, smiling.
Her answer warmed Nikky in a way he hadn’t expected. For a change, he actually offered to sign things for them, and then to pose for selfies. Harry finished with his call, and although he remained grim-faced, he volunteered to take group shots of them all.
“I guess the rumors that you’re dating Harry Bayonne are true,” Christopher whispered to him as the friends were getting ready to go about their business.
Nikky blushed and stole a glance at Harry, who was taking a few selfies with the girls. “It’s early days,” he confessed with a bashful grin, “but yeah.”
“You go, girl,” Christopher said, shoulder-bumping him. “I don’t care how old he is, he’s hot.”
Nikky laughed. He laughed freely, like he was part of the friends group.
He hadn’t felt so accepted and included in ages, not since he and Drew had become friends on the set of Cooked. Maybe fans weren’t something to be terrified of after all.
“They were really nice,” he told Harry as the two of them walked on to the hotel and slipped inside its marbled and gilded lobby before anyone else could get ideas and delay him more. “They’re the kind of people I could hang out with.”
“Yeah, they seemed nice,” Harry said, clearly distracted and on edge.
Nikky’s smile faltered as they got into the elevator. They were alone as the mirrored box swooped up, making his stomach feel like it had been left behind. Or maybe that was the sudden change in Harry’s entire demeanor.
“Is everything okay?” he asked as the doors opened on the fifteenth floor and they stepped out. “Who was the phone call from?”
“It was nothing,” Harry said way too quickly, scanning the hallway, his shoulders bunched. “Just a work thing.”
Nikky wasn’t always the best judge of character, but growing up with crippling uncertainty that required him to know when the situation he was in was about to turn sour had left him with a radar for when people were lying.
Unfortunately for him, another skill he’d learned growing up was to keep his mouth shut when things were wrong so the impact of whatever was about to fall apart didn’t smash what little security he had to pieces.
They reached his room and he fished the key card from his pocket to unlock the door.
“It shouldn’t take me long to pack up my things,” he said as he led Harry into the opulent suite Albion’s company was paying for.
“Maybe it’s not very starlike, but I try to travel light.
People think I dress fashionably when I’m out in public, but really, that’s my stylist picking out clothes for me.
I left Kevin behind in L.A. for this trip because I don’t have any public appearances planned. ”
He was babbling, but only because Harry wasn’t saying a thing. Harry wasn’t even looking at him. He stalked into the room, looking around as if he was CIA searching for cameras or bugs. His behavior set Nikky’s teeth on edge.
“Are you really sure everything is okay?” he asked, well aware of how weak his voice suddenly sounded as he headed into the suite’s bedroom.
Harry seemed to realize he was acting strangely. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead like he was chasing off a headache. “I’m just…worried about a few things.”
Nikky looked back at him as he went to the wardrobe in the bedroom to begin pulling his things out.
“Anything I can help with?” He cursed the way his voice wavered slightly, but for him to actively seek to get involved in something upsetting, even though it affected someone he cared about, went against his nature to a degree that was terrifying.
Harry seemed to understand the effort. His tense look softened into a smile. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” he said, moving to the wardrobe and squeezing Nikky’s shoulder.
But then he looked into the wardrobe with an expression Nikky couldn’t read, and what felt like out of nowhere said, “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.”
Nikky froze in the middle of lifting his empty suitcase from the bottom of the wardrobe to put on the bed. “Wait, what?”
Harry’s face pinched, and he rubbed a hand over it, as if he were physically trying to dispel whatever he was thinking. “Maybe it’s best if you stay here after all,” he said. “At least until you’re finished recording your album.”
An electric haze of fear washed over Nikky as he stood still, staring at his lover.
It was the phone call. It had to be the phone call. Someone had said something that had spooked Harry somehow.
“Who—” Before the word could form itself into a question, old fear tangled Nikky’s tongue. What if Harry didn’t want him asking questions? What if he was offended by someone meddling in his business? What if pushing things meant Harry pushed him away and broke up with him?
And what if he lay down and rolled over, like he had time and time again throughout his life? What if his inability to stand up for himself meant he lost the best thing that had happened in his life, better even than Cooked?
With more courage than anyone could imagine, except maybe Harry himself, he asked, “Who called you out there?”
Harry tensed, his jaw clenching hard. He stared at Nikky like he was debating whether to answer. Then he blew out a breath, took a step back, and said, “It’s not important.”
The flickering flame of courage in Nikky’s gut threatened to go out. He couldn’t let it. Not over something this important. “I think it is important,” he said, gaining strength as he went. “Whoever it was, they said something that changed your mind about, well, about me.”
“Nobody could ever change my mind about you, princess.” Harry tried to smile and reached out to rest a hand on Nikky’s cheek.
Surprising himself, Nikky pulled away. “But it was someone,” he said. “Someone who said something that made you second-guess me moving in with you.” He heard how those words sounded and quickly added, “Temporarily,” looking down.
“It’s not that,” Harry said, exasperated. “It’s—” He stopped, rippling with frustration.
“Who called you?” Nikky asked again. The more he stood up for himself, the easier it was.
Harry growled quietly, like he was fighting some sort of internal battle, and rubbed the back of his neck. “It really doesn’t matter,” he said. “Let’s just finish packing up your things.”
Instead of going back to doing exactly that, Nikky gaped at Harry. “Three seconds ago, you thought I should stay here, and now we’re packing my things again?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” Harry sighed and reached for the suitcase where Nikky had dropped it, put it on the bed, and unzipped the lid.
Nikky didn’t know what to think or do. “It is a big deal if it has you acting like this a split-second after everything was so good between us.”
He’d felt on top of the world just fifteen minutes before, and now he felt like the weight of that world might crush him again. Harry would never do that to him on his own, and there were a limited number of people who could do that to begin with.
“It was Holberg, wasn’t it,” he said, staring as Harry packed his things.
“No, it wasn’t,” Harry said, seemingly annoyed. Harry was talented in so many ways, but not at acting.
“Who else could it have been?” he asked, then huffed out a breath and moved restlessly to dispel the frantic energy building within him. “Why aren’t you telling me anything?”
“Because I care about you, okay?” Harry snapped, standing straight. “I love you.”
The words knocked the air out of Nikky’s lungs and made him dizzy.
“Shit.” Harry lowered his head and dropped his shoulders. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.” He still looked down.
“Did you mean it to come out at all?” Nikky asked, feeling like he might shatter.
Harry glanced up at him. “Yes,” he said, face completely serious. “I did. But not in the middle of an argument.”
Nikky had no idea what to say. Knowing Harry loved him should have made him feel as golden as everyone believed he was, but the admission that they were having their first fight withered something inside him.
The only thing he could think to do in the moment was to concentrate on packing.
He took a few things out of the wardrobe and put them in the suitcase as Harry did the same, then he headed into the bathroom to collect his toiletries, all without saying a word or continuing the conversation, or rather, the argument.
They finished packing up all his things, then Harry carried the suitcase as they left the room and headed out of the suite.