Fall Apart (32 page)

“Mom’ll be pissed if all of us disappear on an adventure you planned—mostly because our chance of survival is slim to none,” Mark pointed out. “Plus, I should probably be around for my own anniversary party.”

“Well,
I’d
kind of like to finish my
birthday
speech before you two stomp all over my plan.” Reid waited for them to say something else and when they stayed quiet, he continued. “I found out through a friend of a friend of a—let’s just say I met a guy who has a solid hookup, and he told me there’s a ski cabin available.

“Some old guy and his wife reserved it for a big holiday party, but they’re getting divorced and the party’s canceled. He’s offering it to us for
half
the price he paid—mostly because he wants to piss off his old lady. I’m not kidding you guys; this place is perfect. Eight bedrooms, all the bathrooms you could shake a stick at, a den, a game room, a gourmet kitchen, and a hot tub. I looked at pictures.”

“What about—”

“I’m not done, Sean, you horse’s ass.
Birthday speech
,” he repeated loudly. “All of us will go together. Mom, dad, Zane’s mom, Zane, the three of us, and you can even bring Tallulah, Sean.”

“Her name’s Kendra.”

“Really?” Reid laughed. “’Cause she looks like a Tallulah.”

“You’ve never even seen her!”

“Well, then, she sounds like a Tallulah.”

“What’s that even mean?!”

“Boys,” Mark stepped in. “Focus. How many days do we have the cabin and how much do we owe you? I know you already said we’d take it.”

“Did I mention that we’re getting it for half off?”

“How much?”

“Lift tickets are included. It’s ski in and ski out! Hell of a deal.”

“How much?” Sean and Mark answered at the same time.

Reid took a deep breath. “The per-person cost isn’t too bad. If Zane can’t afford his share, we can figure out a way to cover him,” he joked.

Long, lean arms suddenly braced Mark on either side as Zane leaned his body over the phone. Mark didn’t know how long his husband had been listening to the conversation on speakerphone, but he’d at least heard Reid’s last sentence.

“That’s generous of you, Reid, especially on your birthday.”

“Zane, hey!” Reid and Sean exclaimed. Mark was fairly certain they liked Zane better than their own flesh and blood.

“What are the dates for the rental?” Zane asked, his voice rumbling down through his chest as he tucked Mark in closer.

“It’s a week, starting the Sunday of your anniversary week.”

Zane looked down at Mark questioningly and it was the first chance Mark had to see that his husband had shaved off his goatee. His breath hitched and he touched that smooth skin almost reverently.
Yes!

“We could just make it a small get-together instead of a big party. All of the family will still be together and we can ski or snowboard,” Zane pointed out, dropping a kiss on Mark’s palm. Mark nodded, wishing he could hang up that instant and, you know, not talk at all.

“We’re in,” Zane agreed. “They’re giving us a short break from filming that week and like you said, Mark already has the time off.”

“Whoa, wait!” Mark snapped into focus again. “How much, Reid?”

“I want to get this for everybody, babe,” Zane soothed.

“No, no, no,” Reid and Sean spoke up at once. “Absolutely not.”

“Dad and mom won’t let that fly, either,” Sean added.

“Zane, I didn’t bring this up so you would pay for everything.” Reid spoke up seriously. “It’s a reasonable price because it’s half off—I swear I saw the original paperwork. This guy really hates his wife, I guess. It’ll be about twelve hundred per person. I mean, normally it’s around three grand per!”

Sean whistled, but said he’d been setting aside money for the trip to L.A. anyway. Reid had already paid the deposit, like Mark assumed. Zane stared at the phone for a minute, knowing he had to offer a trade if he wanted to make everyone comfortable. The Newland men were a proud bunch.

“How about this,” Zane offered. “If everybody comes to our place in L.A., we’ll take care of the travel to and from Tahoe, and the rental. We’ll let everybody else take care of food and drinks while we’re there because that cabin probably isn’t stocked with food. Sean, since you’re already close to Tahoe, I can take care of your trip from San Fran.”

There was hemming and hawing, a lengthy debate about fairness and its relevance to superstardom, and finally, they came to a tentative agreement. Reid’s job was to convince Patty and Brad Newland that this was the best Christmas idea since alcohol infused eggnog, and Zane had the right to choose who the final guests would be to round out the party.

“I accept this with an additional rider to the contract,” Reid negotiated. “Not all of your invitees can have penises—and heck, while we’re at it—let’s make sure they aren’t all lesbians, either. I don’t want to be Lonely Lou in the corner, or just another swinging dick, you know?”

“I’ll call your girl, Sophia, first thing,” Zane said, and then hung up as soon as Reid began to protest.

Mark stood up and wrapped his arms around Zane’s waist. “It’s incredible of you to offer to pay for all of that. Reid was honest when he said he wasn’t calling so you would shell out the money.”

“I know your family doesn’t like me for the money.”

“Well, for my mom and me, it’s more about your body.”

Zane kissed Mark on the nose and thrust his hips forward playfully. “That’s fine. As long as
you
stick around.”

Damn, Mark loved that smooth jaw. Bone structure like that shouldn’t be hidden. He soaked in the view for a happy moment, but was compelled to drag the subject up again. “Seriously, if it’s too much…”

“Mark, do you honestly think your dad and mom have three grand that they can put into a ski trip? Plus the price of food and travel to get there?”

“I was going to pay for them.”

“I know you’re making good money, babe, and I’m proud of you, and I wish you’d replace that Ford in the driveway, but let me ask you a question. How much did I get paid for
Sacrifice
?”

Mark stared at him blankly. “I don’t actually know.”

Zane grinned. “And I love that about you, but I got forty million.”

“Yeah,” Mark smirked, “and how much of that did you actually take home?”

Zane rolled his eyes. “Enough to cover this trip for everybody. C’mon, it’s not every day we have our first anniversary.”

“I just don’t want you to think this is about your money.”

“Hey,” Zane warned. “What’s mine is yours; you really need to try and understand that. Also, this will be fun. We can afford to do this nice thing for our family and on the plus side, we’ll be spread out in that cabin. Your parents won’t be just down the hall and we can park Sean in the garage if we want because he’s walked in on us before.”

Zane made a good point. Mark thought it over for a minute. He hadn’t been looking forward to everybody crammed together in the house for a whole week. He loved his family, but sometimes they were all a bit much.

Zane was guzzling yet another bottle of water and Mark watched the way his throat moved with each swallow. Since they were both up…

“Wait, what are you doing awake? Don’t you have an early call?”

The plastic bottle crackled in Zane’s hand as he wiped away the moisture left behind on his lips.
Such a delicious mouth
. Which flat surface would be best to land on?

“I got a few texts from friends that woke me up and I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. They were telling me they were on my side no matter what and encouraging me, so I called Jenny.”

“What’s going on?” The tone of Zane’s voice managed to distract Mark from his lust for a heartbeat or two.

“Jenny was going to wait until morning to tell me, but Pershall had another interview and he dropped the gay bomb.”

“He’s
gay
?”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Zane corrected him, his eyes flinty. “He’s not gay, but he sure doesn’t like that I am.”

Mark was dumbfounded. How could Pershall think it was a good idea to bring up anything about that? Even if he hated the entire gay population, he should know to keep it under wraps. “Are you serious? What are you going to say about it?”

Zane shrugged nonchalantly, but Mark saw the anger. “I’ll say what I always say: ‘No comment.’”

Alarik greeted the first week of silence from Damon with a stiff upper lip. He was determined to be patient and let the other man know that he wasn’t going anywhere. So, he sent an email only once every other day. That’s all. He threw himself into work and focused on achieving the final look for photos that Max wanted. By the time filming ended, he would have to sift through thousands of shots.

Alarik spent hours on the set and more hours at home, editing images and printing them, basically supersaturating himself with task after task so he didn’t obsess over what Damon was doing, how he was feeling, if his family was okay, if their relationship was going to make it through this…

He took a new batch of pictures to Max each day to see if they were of the same mind as far as lighting, color, and content. The book was going to be about the making of the movie and the true story behind the script, and without Max knowing, Alarik was taking a lot of pictures of him on set as he worked.

It was fascinating to see Hayama work and it was messing with Alarik’s mind. On one side there was Damon—his heart-crushing love. On the other side, there was Max—his once unrequited, but now possibly requited crush. The timing was too good and too bad. Alarik was not desensitized to Max’s energy, and now, feeling wounded, he was discovering how vulnerable he was to the attention and the attraction.

He kept asking himself the all important question: If I were with Max, hearing him confess his feelings, asking for me to be a part of his life, and Damon appeared to ask the same thing, who would I choose? Ego-stroking fantasies aside, answering the question wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it was Damon. Sometimes it was Max. Sometimes it was neither.

Seeing Max in his element every day reminded Alarik of the first time they’d met. Max and Bill Austen had shown up for a magazine shoot promoting their movie, but the accompanying article was meant to focus more on their relationship as actor and director. Alarik could not get enough of Max’s eyes, his hair, or his measured smile. The man combined aloof with allure and that played to all of Alarik’s weaknesses.

After Bill left the studio that day, Max stuck around. He watched Alarik with just enough interest to make him wonder, asked questions, and drew on his interests. They began seeing each other whenever Max was in town and Alarik quickly ended up strung out on the intense stare and half-smiles Max would dole out.
Just another hit, man. One more. I’m good for it.

It had driven him crazy because he wanted to kiss Max’s lips and more, but he couldn’t get over his own nerves. There was nothing worse than going in for a kiss and getting the old palm to the chest
Stop-right-there-mister
. Alarik had learned that the hard way and he didn’t want a repeat lesson with Max. That meant he spent a lot of very sexually frustrated evenings alone with a bottle of lotion after he and Max met.

Gee whiz, Alarik, your right hand is soooo smooth.

He wasn’t exactly certain that if he made a move to kiss Max, say,
tomorrow,
that he would be accepted—there was no way of knowing. Max didn’t take even the slightest of touches lightly and if he felt that Alarik was seeking him out for the wrong reasons, Game Over.

That embrace they’d shared… It was tempting to ask for another, but Alarik knew the urge stemmed from an awful place within that told him doing so would hurt Damon, which wasn’t fair. He knew it; he had to keep reminding himself of it, though, so he felt twice as shitty.

He didn’t
really
want to hurt Damon. He wanted Damon beside him, even during this time of pain and loss. Relationships were supposed to be about good and bad, right? With Damon, he’d seen a reasonable slice of happiness for his future and it seemed to be crumbling rather quickly.

At the thought, Alarik’s eyes flitted to the framed photograph on his desk. Damon’s expression of reserved happiness still made him wistful, so he knocked the frame over.

“Damon, write me back before I go mad, if you please.”

He tried to work again, but every minute or two, his eyes would drift from the photos and notes in front of him, across the table, only to land on that stupid overturned frame.

That’s it, he thought, I give up.

Alarik grabbed his phone and dialed before he talked himself out of it. He’d managed to hold off until now, but his willpower was spent. Molly answered his call and he deflated in his desk chair like a sad balloon. It was easy to picture Damon seeing the number on the display and tossing the phone off to his mum.

“Hello, Molly,” he answered her. “Tell me he didn’t force you to answer.”

Molly made a sympathetic sound that all mothers did when they thought their children were going to cry. “He stepped outside with Davey. Honey, I know he’s pushing you away, and I’m sorry about that because I think he really needs you right now.” Her voice hitched and she went silent for a breath or two. “He’s blaming himself—or at least that’s what Leo and I think. He won’t talk to anyone about what happened. He says he doesn’t need to.”

“I probably shouldn’t have called, but…”

“It’s difficult; I know.”

“What can I do?”

Molly didn’t answer right away. “This isn’t the Damon I know, Alarik. We’re at a loss, too. I think the only thing we can do is be patient until he’s ready.”

“Will you tell him I called to check on him? Tell him I love him.”

Molly gave another sigh that was nearly his undoing and promised she would pass along the message. “I want you to keep something in mind. He may need space now, but there comes a time when someone who’s lost needs to be found. You two are good for each other. Don’t give up.”

Though well meant, these parting comments chafed.
He
wasn’t the one who told Damon to say goodbye. He couldn’t force Damon to reach out for him now, or any other time for that matter. He mumbled something to Molly, thanking her, and ended the call.