Winter Oranges (27 page)

Dylan’s shoulders tensed beneath Jason’s cheek. Jason felt the sudden tension in the arms that held him and knew Dylan was working his way around to a new angle. “And the globe?” Dylan asked.

“I threw it away.”

“When?”

“In the night. I put it in the compactor—”

Dylan started to break away, and Jason knew he intended to see the globe for himself. He grabbed Dylan, not bothering to mask his panic and his desperation. “No! Please. I buried it on the bottom. I ran the compactor and I heard it break.” He shuddered, letting another ragged sob tear free, and Dylan sank back to his original spot, letting Jason nestle into his embrace. “I can’t see it,” Jason cried. “I don’t want to see it. Please. I’d rather pretend it never existed.”

“Okay, JayWalk. Okay.” Dylan rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. “I’m so sorry it had to be like this. I know it hurts right now, but it’s for the best. You know that, right?”

Jason nodded. “I do.”

“In a month or two, you’ll have forgotten all about this.”

“Oh God,” Jason said, letting himself laugh through the tears. “I hope it doesn’t take that long.”

“Maybe it won’t. You’re doing the right thing though, I promise.”

“I wish it didn’t hurt so much. I don’t know how I let it get so out of control.”

“You were lonely.”

“I guess.” But this was where he had to push things. He had to turn Dylan away from the idea of this being about loneliness. Otherwise, how could he ever convince Dylan to leave and abandon him again to solitude? “I don’t know, Dylan. I think it was more about boredom, to be honest. And feeling like I wasn’t good enough for anything.”

“Being out here all by yourself isn’t helping, though. I think you should consider selling this house.”

Jason shook his head. “It’s not the house. I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you. But I see it now. It’s more about
me
. About feeling like my life is over. I think . . . I need to stop being afraid to even go to the grocery store. I need to stop feeling like I’m useless.” And even though he’d thought of this as a role, he couldn’t help but wonder if it were true. “I need to trust that whatever path I’m on, it’ll work out in the end.”

“That all sounds good, Jason, but being out here by yourself—”

“I’ll check in with Natalie and tell her to send every script she can get her hands on. Maybe I can land a couple of parts, even if they’re shit. But in the meantime, maybe I just need to get outside. Like you said, a bit of sunshine would do me good. Maybe hiding like some kind of criminal is the problem rather than the solution.”

“That all makes perfect sense. I think you’re on the right track.”

“Me too.” Jason hesitated, feeling hopeful. He didn’t want to push his luck, but his instincts told him he should aim for laughter now. “Maybe I should take up sailing?”

“Why sailing?”

“It looks like fun.”

“In the Caribbean, maybe. But in Idaho, in the middle of winter?
Brrr
.”

“Hunting?” Jason suggested, letting a smile creep into his voice.

“You don’t even step on spiders. Now you’re gonna shoot Bambi?” Dylan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“I could start jogging again.”

“
Again
?” Dylan asked, incredulous. “Since when do you jog?”

“Always.”

“I’ve never seen you jog.”

“Shows how much attention you pay. I jog at least twice a year.”

Dylan’s laugh was bright and full of relief, and Jason knew they were on the right track. This was the way they’d bantered for years. Now he needed only to let this moment ease Dylan into a sense of normalcy.

“I figure at this rate, I’ll be ready for a 5k by the time I’m fifty.”

“Sounds like a foolproof plan.”

Jason wiped his cheeks and pulled away to meet Dylan’s gaze. This part was easy. This part was hardly a role at all. “Let’s go somewhere. Just for the day.”

“Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“Hmm . . .” Jason pretended to ponder, but really, he already had a plan. He’d thought about it the night before and come up with the perfect activity to take them out of the house, to get them moving and laughing, but without putting too much emphasis on conversation. “Well, we can go out for breakfast first, and then . . . Oh, I know! Let’s go skiing.”

“Skiing? Are you crazy?”

“Why not? Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Do you have a hat and gloves I can borrow?”

“I’m sure we can find something.”

“What about ski pants?”

“We’ll buy some on the way.”

“Is there a ski resort anywhere in the area?”

“Several, actually.” He leaned a bit closer and lowered his eyelashes, pushing flirtatiously against him, falling back on what had always worked with Dylan. “Please?”

And Dylan smiled, exactly as Jason had expected. It was as if he’d read the script too. “I think skiing’s a great idea.”

They ate a quick breakfast at a local diner, hit a sporting goods store on the way out of town so Dylan could buy gear, then drove fifty-odd miles to Lookout Pass. Jason had worried that Dylan would want to talk about what had happened, or about the globe, or about taking Jason back to Hollywood, but they mostly discussed
Summer Camp Nightmare 4
, and the possibility of working together again. No, Dylan wouldn’t be playing Jason’s love interest as he had in Jason’s traitorous dream a few weeks earlier, but they’d be on set at the same time often, which Jason always enjoyed. He and Dylan made a good team on-camera, and they always managed to have fun, regardless of everything else. By the time they reached the resort, Jason was almost ready to accept the part without even reading the script.

The question was, what that would mean for Ben? Taking the globe with him now seemed impossible. But leaving Ben behind was even worse.

It was something he dared not ponder for long, lest he somehow betray himself to Dylan. He had to convince Dylan that he was back to his old self, and that meant not dwelling on magically imprisoned men.

They bought half-day passes. It was late in the day by skier standards, but it hardly mattered. In Jason’s opinion, it was perfect. The crowds were beginning to clear as the morning skiers quit for the day, leaving the lift lines far shorter than they might have been. It was cold, but not windy. The sun threw blinding reflections off the snow, and the invigorating spray of powder on his cheeks as he followed Dylan down the first small hill left him exhilarated.

“This was a good idea!” Dylan called to him as they reached the bottom of the slope.

“Told you.” In fact right at that moment, Jason wasn’t sure why he didn’t go skiing every single weekend. It was fun, it was good exercise, and bundled up in his coat and hat and sunglasses, nobody would ever recognize him.

They did one more easy run to get warmed up, then boarded the lift again, their skis dangling heavily beneath them, pulling them forward on the narrow seat as the lift took them to the summit. “I hate it when they don’t have bars,” Jason grumbled.

“Just don’t look down.”

Jason’s mother had once told him the same thing, when he’d been barely eight years old. He’d ridden every lift that day with his head tilted back, staring up at the sky. He’d ended up with a cramp in his neck and one hell of a sunburn on the exposed part of his face. “I think I’ll risk the vertigo.”

“Suit yourself.”

This time down the hill, Jason went first, leaving Dylan to catch up. The chilled air whistled in his ears, punctuated by the
sshhh-sshh
of his skis cutting the powder as he flew down the slope. He leaned heavily into the turns, pushing himself to go faster without losing control. His cheeks, nose, fingers, and toes burned with cold, but his heart was racing, his core warm and strong, and he finished the run laughing, feeling like he’d been born with boards strapped to his feet. He turned to find Dylan still midway up the slope, and he laughed again.

If only he could bring Ben here. He could imagine Ben bumping down the bunny hill, laughing the whole way, his nose and cheeks rosy red from the cold.

If only.

Dylan waved at him, now only a few yards up the slope, and Jason crushed the thought of Ben, cramming it into that place inside where he dared not look while performing.

“You trying to lose me?” Dylan laughed as he finally banked to a stop two feet away. “You were flying.”

“It felt good.”

“You’re a lunatic. Everybody on the slope was backing away in fear.”

“You’re just jealous ’cause I kicked your ass.”

“Maybe.” Dylan’s right hand strayed toward his zippered coat pocket, where Jason knew he’d stashed his cell phone. Jason suspected he was thinking about his upcoming part, and about how if he was going to cancel, he needed to do it soon. Dylan glanced up into the blinding blue above them, the sun halfway down the dome of the sky, throwing long shadows off the lifts and trees onto the snow.

“One more,” Jason said. “Then we can stop for a drink and see how we feel.”

“Sounds good.”

Jason led the way to the lift line, and they shuffled in, side by side. Jason glanced sideways at Dylan, trying to judge the best time to broach the topic. It was clear the entire thing was eating at Dylan but he was afraid to bring it up. Jason decided it’d have to be up to him, and there was no point in waiting. “When’s the shoot?”

Dylan winced and took off his glove to rub the back of his neck. “Wednesday morning. Six a.m.”

“So you need to leave tomorrow?”

“My flight’s booked for four.” He shook his head. “I can cancel—”

“No, don’t be stupid. I know how hard it is to land roles at all. The last thing you want to do is get blacklisted by some casting agent.”

Dylan sighed as they scooted to the front of the line. “You’re right, but—”

“You’re up!” the lift operator yelled at them.

They fell silent as they moved into place. Jason waited until the chair had scooped them up from behind before readdressing the matter at hand. “It’s bad form to back out this late. We both know something like that could ruin you.” It sounded melodramatic, but it was true. It all depended on who was involved, and who those people knew. Piss off one director or one casting agent with serious pull, and you may as well hang it up and move to middle America to become a high school drama teacher. “I mean it. Don’t cancel. I’ll feel terrible if you lose the part because of me.”

“Okay.” Only one word, but Jason heard the relief in Dylan’s voice. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“I’d still like you to come with me.”

Jason debated, doing his best to act torn. The lift was sloping down toward the unloading point at the top of the hill, and Jason wanted to time his response just right, so that they’d be out of time for discussion. He waited until half a second before their skis hit the snow to say, “Let me see how I feel tomorrow.”

They finished the run, Jason out in front again, feeling as spectacular as before. He regretted his promise that they’d stop for a drink, but he also knew Dylan wanted to check in with his agent and let her know he’d be there for the shoot.

Midway through the first drink, they were spotted by two women who asked for autographs. Dylan couldn’t help but flirt and look for hookups wherever they might present themselves, even though he knew Jason preferred to go unseen. Still, Jason knew right off the bat Dylan would be disappointed in that regard. Both women were married, and although they were clearly thrilled to rub elbows with two pseudo stars, neither was the groupie type, and they graciously excused themselves after finishing their drinks, leaving Dylan and Jason to themselves.

“We have time for one more run before the lifts close,” Jason said before Dylan could order another drink.

“One more,” Dylan agreed.

Jason was glad for the final hill, even if the alcohol had taken its toll on his agility. What had felt like natural grace and talent on the previous slopes turned to sloppiness, and he landed on his ass twice before forcing himself to slow down. It was to Dylan’s credit that he only laughed a little bit.