Rainbow Blues (21 page)

“Bennett had one. I borrowed it from him.”

That made more sense.

They sat on the mattress, and Luke began pulling dinner out of the two containers, all of it homemade. Jimmy was going to miss Luke’s cooking, too. His eyes started burning again, so he drew in a deep breath and did what he did best—talk.

“Bennett’s a weird dude, isn’t he? I mean, he’s an electrician and all, total blue collar, but he’s still got the air of a rich guy clinging to him.”

“Yep. His parents have money. He knows all kinds of ‘society’ people, politicians, high-powered lawyers, all that, but he’s just not interested in that life. He says his family didn’t have any trouble with him being gay, but choosing to be an electrician was difficult for them.”

That drew an unwilling laugh from Jimmy. “I can’t hardly imagine that conversation, can you? Coming out as an
electrician
. Oh, the shame.”

Luke laughed. “I know. He does a lot of independent work, but when he takes jobs on big sites, he feels like he has to keep the gay
and
the rich under wraps.”

Jimmy could almost see a skit, where being an electrician had the same stigma in certain circles as being gay. Of course, in this case, it was Bennett’s choice, but Jimmy suspected part of the choice was the chance to metaphorically flip the bird to his folks. Probably he shouldn’t judge, but he couldn’t imagine being particularly passionate about working with wires all day.

“So, you know, this stuff will all keep,” Luke said. “We could stop talking about Bennett and christen the new place. In here at least. We can wait until you’re back to work our way through the other rooms.”

Sex first? Jimmy could agree with that. He stood and began slowly stripping. If nothing else, he was going to make sure Luke didn’t forget him.

J
IMMY
SAT
in a chair in the corner, hoping no one would see him. He was utterly overwhelmed and thoroughly humiliated. How was it possible that he felt more out of place now, as a mature man and accomplished stage actor, than when he’d been knocking on doors for a year after high school?

He snorted softly to himself. Probably he was too stupid to know better. Picking up his phone, he checked the time. If he texted Luke again, his boyfriend would think he’d totally flipped his lid. But the bustle in this place was crazy. Just as in a play, there were far more people required for a production than the actors, but the vibe was completely different.

Then again, maybe he was in a rut. This was supposed to the role of a lifetime. He could enjoy it. Somehow. Soon.

He glanced down at the papers in his hand. His first interaction today had been to be belittled by an assistant who clearly thought he was a moron because he had no idea where he was supposed to be on his first day. She’d led him to a minigym where a fitness expert and a nutritionist delivered a scathing lecture on the evils of food, alcohol, and sitting down. According to the documents, the only things he’d be allowed to do aside from filming were work out and eat pocket lint. Or sawdust. Some plywood for fiber. While standing. Or jogging. Nothing with taste or calories, apparently, given the number of times “celery” had been emphasized. They’d set up a grueling workout schedule in the process of telling him, indirectly, that he was a fat-ass slug who would probably waste their time. Apparently the director, who’d called Jimmy “perfect” for the role had a somewhat different definition of perfect than Jimmy had.

The first two hours had been spent performing various fitness tests and enduring being poked and pinched and weighed and tsked over. Apparently, the trainer—Roland, a muscular man whose face was set in a permanent disapproving scowl—had worked on one of those weight-loss reality shows. Finding out he was personally taking on Jimmy’s “training” as a favor to the director to “quickly whip him into shape” was probably the most terrifying thing Jimmy had ever heard. At least he’d updated his will when he and Luke bought the house. With nothing more than a lifelong nodding acquaintance with the gym as he walked past it to buy a latte, Jimmy was pretty sure he was going to die under Roland’s tutelage.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about the celery overdose. Yuck.

They’d left him feeling fat, stupid, and utterly alone in the midst of an open sitting area positively bustling with people, and no idea what he was supposed to do next, or who he was supposed to see. Maybe he
was
stupid because he didn’t even know how to find the front desk of the studio or the assistant’s office.

Wiping his damp palms on his pants, he stood and shoved his “food journal” and schedule from hell into his back pocket. Food was a unifier; he’d head to craft services and hang out by the food. Surely he could meet someone that way, and hopefully they’d be someone he could latch the fuck on to as a guide dog. The playhouse was tiny by comparison, entire sets constrained by having to remain in a single stationary building, but here, everything was so big.

Jimmy groaned at the food offerings. Pastries weren’t the only items available, but after the past few ego-demolishing hours, they took up, in his opinion, more than their fair share of table space. At the end of the table, he spied a few of the things on his depressingly short list of “can eat.”

He snapped a quick pic of the assorted baked goods with his phone to text to Luke.

This is the first thing I saw after being told I’m fat and need to watch what I eat. Of course, I want to eat ALL the pastries.

The tone wasn’t quite as light as he’d have liked, but he thought he managed to appear slightly upbeat and not one step from heading back to his rental and burying himself under the covers with a pint of ice cream and tears.

He only had to wait a few seconds for a response, and it was everything he could hope for.

You’re not fat. You’re gorgeous. Perfect. Who said that?

Trainer. Nutritionist. I’m on a “schedule” until filming is done. It’s Hollywood. And getting in better shape is a good thing, right?

He didn’t want Luke getting bent out of shape, but the unexpected blow to his self-esteem had him needing reassurance.

It is a good thing, but if anyone calls you fat, I’ll come out there and punch them. :) Love you. Gotta run.

He grinned and gently stroked the words on his phone.

Love you, too.

“James Alexander?”

Jimmy turned at the unfamiliar address. He’d been told in no uncertain terms that he’d be billed and referred to as James, not Jimmy, and the name suited him about as well as purple skinny jeans on a leather bear.

“Hi, I’m Aaron.”

“Aaron.” Jimmy squeaked out the name. He didn’t need an introduction to Aaron Young, his co-star. In a few short years, Aaron had made quite a name for himself in several action movies as a beta male turned accidental hero. It suited his willowy stature and almost pretty face. The character in
Walking Wounded
would see Aaron playing completely against the archetype he’d created for himself, but it was that very success coupled with his recent coming out that had been the impetus behind the film.

Although neither of them was particularly muscular, the differences in their coloring would provide a striking contrast. Aaron had dark everything compared to Jimmy’s pale blondness. Dark brown eyes, black hair, black lashes that extended for miles, and smooth caramel skin. The age difference between their characters, with Jimmy playing Gary, the older, closeted man coming out for a younger man, was fifteen years. Jimmy wasn’t quite that much older than Aaron, but he also knew he’d never have been chosen for the role if he didn’t look damned good for his age. Hollywood could be a little ageist.

“It’s great to meet you. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

They shook hands, and Jimmy’s breath came fast and shallow.
Aaron Young
had just shaken his
hand
and was
looking forward
to working with him.

“Whoa, slow down there. Don’t want to hyperventilate on the first day. Let’s save that for the days we’re shooting naked scenes.”

Jimmy nodded, and then Aaron’s words trickled into his brain and took root. “Naked?” He didn’t remember naked, but then, he’d let the entertainment lawyer Damian knew take care of everything. Probably he should have asked more questions.

“Yeah, naked. I didn’t get a chance to watch your whole performance, but didn’t you perform the love scenes nude on stage?”

Setting down the plate of food he’d just picked out, because he couldn’t fucking concentrate on keeping it horizontal, Jimmy swiped a bottle of water and gulped half of it down, hoping to moisten his desert-dry throat.

Aaron stood with a kindly smile and allowed Jimmy the time to compose himself.

“Uh, no.” Jimmy squeezed the half-empty water bottle. “I mean, we did the sex scenes, but very chaste. The nudity was implied. I take it the script calls for….”

“Haven’t read it all the way through, have you?”

Jimmy shrugged. “They said it didn’t deviate much from the play, actually, so I only skimmed it.” Again, details he probably should have verified with Matthew the entertainment lawyer. The part of Gary was so poignant and could have so easily been him—and probably had been similar enough to Luke’s life to make him uncomfortable—that he could get up on stage and perform the entire play from start to finish without prompting, even though it had been months since his last performance. He took another sip.

“Nude, you say?” His tone was far from nonchalant, but he hoped Aaron couldn’t hear the terror.

“Well, not completely nude, no. They make sure we’re not actually cock to cock.”

Jimmy choked and sputtered, Aaron’s blunt words making him inhale his water instead of swallowing it.

“Okay, good. That’s good.”

Aaron frowned. “Not that it matters, because you played the role so well, but I thought you were gay. A little cock between two gay men shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I don’t know about you, but my cock’s not little.” Jimmy clapped a hand over his mouth. That was the sort of response he’d make if he were in a bar trying to pick up a guy, not at his work place for God’s sake.

Fortunately, Aaron snickered instead of being offended, or even worse, thinking Jimmy had been trying to get in his pants. Aaron was gorgeous, no doubt, and so far he seemed super nice, but Jimmy was done with other men. Luke was it for him.

“I guess I walked right into that one.”

Jimmy’s star-struck social paralysis broke, and he put the water bottle down on the table so he could gesture properly. “I am gay, just newly in a relationship, is all.”

“Oh, yeah?” Aaron grimaced and a flash of hurt crossed his face. “That’s nice.”

“I, uh, take it you’re not seeing anyone.”

Aaron shrugged. “It’s not exactly a state secret that I just came out. But I’d been in a relationship before. He finally got sick of watching me pretend, seeing me on the television at events he felt—rightly—he should have been attending at my side.”

This was a lot of personal information coming at him from a virtual stranger, and a famous one at that, but the easy camaraderie soothed Jimmy’s nerves. Maybe that had been his intention, or maybe he believed getting to know each other would make the—oh, God—
naked
scenes more comfortable. Either way, Jimmy relaxed and asked the same question he’d ask of anyone who’d dropped that load of information on him.

“He broke up with you, I take it?”

The pain appeared to be a living, breathing monster inside Aaron, and Jimmy hurt for him.

“Yep. Getting dumped made me come out. Not right away, though, and by the time I did, it was too late. He’s moved on, and I have to figure out how to deal with that.”

Jimmy laid a comforting hand on Aaron’s forearm, hoping that sort of casual touch would be acceptable. “I’m really sorry.”

Aaron shook his head ruefully. “Thanks. Sorry, I guess you weren’t expecting that upon our first meeting.”

“Hey, this whole thing will be easier if we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah. And I have to say, since I came out, I find I sometimes have a hard time harnessing my inner thoughts as well as I used to.”

Jimmy laughed. “I guess you just broke the seal, and now everything’s gushing out. My partner is exactly the same way. He was married for just over twenty years, came out a few years ago. Blunt as hell.” Blunt was probably the wrong word, but close enough, since Luke didn’t like prevaricating or mind games.

“Want to grab some lunch, somewhere else? I can show you around after.”

Fucking amazing. Aaron Young was just a regular, friendly guy who didn’t seem arrogant or stuck up at all. And Jimmy wasn’t stupid. He immediately agreed, although, could Aaron Young just “go out for lunch” without getting mobbed by fans? Then again, maybe in LA he could.

Sighing, he pulled his paperwork from his pocket and brandished his new instructions, the humiliation still fresh. “Sounds good, but my lunch options are limited.”

“Yeah, that can be depressing as hell, since the majority of the craft services stuff isn’t on the list.”