Chapter 21
Jesse
When Cal’s car pulled up in front of Hilliard’s home on Wednesday morning, Jesse already knew it was going to be the best day.
Monty was carrying an armful of rolled up towels toward Hilliard’s two-tone blue Cadillac that Jesse was secretly a little excited to ride in.
Cal’s car was nice, of course, but the Cadillac was a convertible.
Monty gave them a head toss of a greeting before he bent over to put the towels in the trunk.
Jesse couldn’t help but notice the swimsuit Hilliard had mentioned before.
It was rather small and tight, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Yoo-hoo! Happy Independence Day!” Hilliard called as he emerged from the house, waving with one hand and carrying a basket with the other.
He was wearing a long-sleeve shirt with thin red and white horizontal stripes, white shorts, and a navy ascot tied at the perfect angle.
His white espadrille sandals had strings that wrapped around his ankles and secured with a bow.
“Anything to take a break from work,” Cal muttered sardonically as he joined Jesse on the driveway.
Despite the sarcasm, Cal wore an easy smile to match his own outfit: a powdery blue polo shirt with the top two buttons undone, light tan wide-legged trousers, and sunglasses. If he was trying to avoid looking like a movie star, he was failing miserably.
Jesse looked down at his own choice of clothes with a slight frown. He’d put on what had become his standard dance rehearsal outfit. The sleeveless white shirt and cutoff shorts with a belt were the closest thing he had to a real bathing suit. Monty called him out on it immediately.
“Have you got your trunks on under that?” he asked.
“No, this is it,” Jesse told him. “We’d always swim in our clothes when I was growing up.” He paused to chuckle. “Or we’d go without.”
Monty hummed like he’d just taken a bite of cake. “Well, as much as I’m sure we’d all love to see that, let’s not have you become a stereotype and get arrested for indecent exposure on a federal holiday.”
“What you’ve got on is perfectly fine, doll,” Hilliard said, subtly elbowing Monty while he said it. Monty gave him a grumpy frown in return. “But enough of this standing around. Let’s go before all the umbrellas are gone.”
Jesse gave a cursory glance around the yard.
“Where’s Henrietta?”
Upon hearing her name, the little dog popped up in the front seat of the Cadillac and gave two sharp yaps. Jesse smiled and approached her, giving her head a good scratch.
“I’ll give you your treat at the beach,” he promised. The bone-shaped biscuit—a whole one—was in his right pocket. “I think if we get crumbs in Hilliard’s car, I’ll get left behind.”
* * *
The drive to Santa Monica took less time than Jesse expected.
He hadn’t realized just how close they were to the ocean.
Riding in a car with the top down felt as exciting as he’d imagined, the wind tousling even Cal’s carefully styled hair as Hilliard drove at a steady clip down the highway.
There was so much to look at, but Jesse found that his attention kept returning to the man beside him.
They were separated by the basket Hilliard had been carrying, which he learned was full of food to make a picnic lunch later in the day.
On the other side of it, Cal was relaxed, one arm propped on the sill and long legs spread, though that was mostly due to the seat in front of him.
Despite the dark sunglasses, Jesse could see from the side that his eyes were closed.
He was struck by the way his co-star seemed to settle more and more the farther they got from the epicenter of fame.
Recalling what he’d said about always feeling the pressure to look and behave a certain way sent a deep pang through Jesse.
Everyone deserved to feel like themselves more often than not.
No career or expectation should determine how someone lived their life, especially on their own time, so long as they weren’t hurting anyone.
But Cal had reached a certain level of success that made it nearly impossible.
The world had its eyes on Cal Campbell. But so did Jesse Morgan. He was freshly determined to make sure that his co-star had one day of being wholly himself.
When the car stopped, the unyielding breeze did not.
The air had a weight to it; a certain heaviness that reminded Jesse of the sweaty rehearsal room he and Cal spent so much time in together.
He filled his lungs with the balmy, salty blow coming from the water and braced himself for what he was about to see.
He stood up in the back of the car and marveled at the scene stretched out before him.
The water was blue and endless, capped only by the horizon and a stretch of hazy, rolling mountains to the north.
Dozens of people had already claimed spots along the beach, marked with a whimsical display of color-blocked umbrellas, chairs, and towels spread out on the sand.
“What do you think?” Cal asked. He was standing beside the car now, somehow capable of looking at Jesse rather than the view.
Jesse beamed down at him, taller for once. “It’s wonderful!”
Cal’s smile was bright, too.
“Come on, then,” he said, offering his hand. Jesse took it with ease. “Let’s go and see it up close.”
The five of them settled beneath two neighboring umbrellas not too far from the pier. No sooner had Monty stripped off his shirt did Hilliard wrangle him onto a chair so he could apply a thick white paste to Monty’s exposed shoulders.
“I read that this is the latest innovation in sun protection,” Hilliard implored as Monty slapped at his approaching hands.
“I don’t want any damned experiments slathered all over me,” Monty protested. “I’ve done just fine using olive oil all these years.”
“You didn’t bring any olive oil,” Hilliard said.
“Because I’m not working on my tan,” Monty explained gruffly. He escaped his captor and picked up Henrietta’s leash. The pair raced full-speed toward the water, kicking up sand in their wake.
Hilliard sighed and looked at his hands still coated with the sunblock.
“I could probably use that,” Jesse offered, pulling his shirt up and off. “I burn pretty easily.”
Hilliard’s expression turned grateful. Jesse sat in front of him obediently and watched the waves crashing up against everyone in the water, eliciting cries of surprise and joy.
Hilliard patted his hands along Jesse’s shoulders and arms before rubbing the substance in.
It took more effort than Jesse expected.
In the end, it was more like a massage, which Jesse’s tired muscles appreciated all the same.
“Do you want some, Cal?” Hilliard asked when he was finished.
Jesse turned to look at the man in question and nearly fell out of his chair.
Cal had removed his outer layers, exchanging his shirt and long pants for a pair of dark green swim trunks that fit him well.
Muscles that Jesse had felt under his clothes during their dances but never seen for himself flexed as Cal folded his trousers in half over his arm twice and set them aside with his shirt and shoes.
“No, thank you,” Cal said, his eyes flicking over Jesse’s chalky arms and pale torso. “I think I’ll let Jesse be the test subject this time.”
Even mixed with a subtle jab at Hilliard, hearing his name tumble from the lips of a man that beautiful had Jesse suddenly desperate to confirm that the ocean water was cold. His skin erupted in goosebumps, made worse by the constant breeze. He couldn’t stop the small shiver that ran through him.
“Suit yourself,” Hilliard said casually. “Come and find me whenever you’re ready for a sandwich.”
Jesse stood, tugging at the rolled hems of his shorts. “You’re not going to swim with us?”
“I prefer to read.” Hilliard was already claiming Jesse’s chair with a stack of magazines in hand.
Unlike Monty, Jesse and Cal picked their way across the sand.
More people had already filled the open spots that existed not five minutes earlier.
Jesse watched his feet the whole way, amused at how the sand moved differently as it changed from dry to wet.
The first wave that rolled over his toes made him gasp.
Cal was there to catch his look of delight.
Before long, Henrietta came bounding over with Monty in tow, shaking herself and splattering water across their shins.
Jesse pulled the treat from his pocket and knelt to give it to her.
She grabbed it and darted away, just in time for a wave to take Jesse by surprise and push him down.
He laughed at himself, struggling to his feet now that his shorts were drenched, and waded after Cal.
They remained in the water until the sun was slightly past high, their stomachs were rippling with hunger pains, and Jesse had finally washed the last of the ridiculous paste from his skin.
Hilliard served them sandwiches in the shade, as promised, along with wedges of juicy cantaloupe and a bag of potato chips to share. To Jesse’s surprise, there was nothing sweet.
Cal caught him peering into the empty basket. “Still hungry?” He said this with so much concern that Jesse immediately felt guilty.
“No,” he promised. “Everything was swell.”
“That’s the look of a man with a sweet tooth,” Hilliard said with a grin. “I decided to leave that part up to the kind folks on the pier.”
Jesse looked over Monty’s shoulder at the pier stretched out into the water.
Cal said, “Shall we go have a look?”
After brushing dried sand off themselves and one another, they put their clothes back on and trekked to the car, depositing the towels and picnic basket.
Monty checked his reflection in the chrome detail wrapped around the hood, brushing his hair into place with his fingertips.
Cal teased him for it, and Monty only rolled his eyes with a grin.