Winter Oranges (35 page)

Ben laughed—silently, and yet Jason knew the sound by heart. He still heard it in his mind, if not his ears.

Ben sobered slightly. He held his fist up near his temple and turned it in a circle, in the way Jason had taught him meant “movie” when playing charades. His raised eyebrows turned it into a question.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

He thought Ben would argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he batted his eyes, somehow both nervous and flirtatious at once.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

And Ben said four simple words:
Take me with you?

“While I film the movie, you mean?”

Ben nodded, his expression hesitant. Almost apologetic.
Nobody will see me.

“I thought about that, but . . .”

Dylan?

“Yes.”

Ben pointed to the globe, and Jason wound it for him.

“I don’t care if you have to hide me,” he said when Jason was done. “You’ll have your own room, right?”

“Yes.”

“As long as there’s a window, I’ll be happy to wait for you there. As long as I know you’re coming back to me.”

“Always,” Jason promised. “Every minute I’m able. And I’ll demand the best view the hotel can give us.”

Ben’s joy at the news was easy to read on his face. “Then you’ll take me?”

“Absolutely.” He’d worry about the logistics later. He had four months to come up with a plan. “Nothing would make me happier.” He leaned close and looked into Ben’s bright-blue eyes. It was silly, but now that he’d said it once, he wanted to say it over and over again. He wanted to shout it to the stars. “I love you, Benjamin Robert Ward.”

Ben laughed and leaned close. “And I love you, Jadon Walker Buttermore.”

“It’s Jason.”

“I know, and I love him too.”

His voice was deeper this time. Shockingly suggestive, sending a thrill up Jason’s spine. A pleasing warmth pooled in his groin. “I wish I could fall asleep right now and tear off your clothes.”

Ben laughed, although his laughter was lost to silence as the music box stopped.
Me too.
He leaned back to meet Jason’s eyes, then glanced down at Jason’s knees, sunk into the mud and snow at the bottom of the steps. He wrapped his arms around himself and feigned shivering, his lips forming the question,
Aren’t you cold?

Jason laughed. “Now that you mention it, yeah.” He stood up, groaning as his knees popped. His jeans were wet from knee to hem, and his toes, now that he stopped to assess their condition, felt like solid blocks of ice. “Should we go inside?”

Ben nodded.

“Maybe watch another episode of
Murder, She Wrote
?”

Ben shook his head no and pointed up, toward the bedroom, grinning in a way that made Jason’s blood race.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Jason reached for the globe and his cup of cold coffee, but stopped short when Ben went very still, his eyes wide, staring past Jason down the driveway. He pointed.

“What is it?” Jason asked, turning to look.

The cause of Ben’s alarm was immediately evident: they weren’t alone. A photographer with a frighteningly long lens crouched behind a tree, halfway down the drive.

“Shit!” Jason swore.

As soon as he realized he’d been spotted, the photographer turned and bolted toward the road.

How long had he been there? And what exactly had he seen? He was far enough away, Jason felt sure he hadn’t been able to hear his words. Still . . .

He thought about yelling, or calling the sheriff, but to what end? The pictures had already been taken. And the lure of going upstairs with Ben was still in the front of his mind.

“To hell with it,” he muttered.

He took the snow globe and Ben back inside. Upstairs to his bedroom. He didn’t waste another thought on the photographer. As far as he was concerned, he and Ben were the only two people left in the world. And he couldn’t imagine anything better.

Two days later, on December 24,
StarWatch
brought Jason’s world crumbling down.

It began innocuously enough. Natalie called to report the tabloid had devoted a two-page spread to the story of JayWalk chasing an unseen person into the woods and then spent nearly an hour on his knees in the snow, conversing with thin air. An exaggeration. Jason speculated it’d been closer to ten minutes. But there was no arguing with the many photos they published alongside the article.

StarWatch
also reported they’d tried to contact JayWalk and his agent, but had been refused a comment.

“They never called,” Natalie assured him. “But I’m getting calls now from other tabloids. What do you want me to say?”

He was sitting on the couch next to Ben, watching
It’s a Wonderful Life
. Ben was so engrossed in the movie, he didn’t even seem to realize Jason was on the phone. “Tell them I was rehearsing for a part.”

“Good idea.” She stopped, and Jason waited, knowing more was coming. “Speaking of parts—”

“I’ll take it.”

There was a moment of silence as she digested that. “Are we talking about
Summer Camp Nightmare 4
? Are you saying you’ll do it?”

“That’s what I’m saying. And if you have anything else in your queue, send it my way. I haven’t decided how much I’ll take on but . . . I don’t know. I think maybe I’m ready to work again.”

“That’s wonderful! I can have a dozen scripts to you by the end of the week. Do you want anything in particular?”

Jason glanced at Ben, who was staring rapt at the TV. “No horror. Let’s do something happy. A comedy or a romance. Even a little part. It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

“I’ll get on it right away.”

Jason clicked off, feeling good about the entire thing. More work meant more places to go, more new things for Ben to see. And as for acting, maybe he just needed a new perspective. After all, he didn’t need to conquer the world. He didn’t need blockbusters or Oscars. He only needed to make Ben happy. And if that meant doing a film or two, so be it.

Unfortunately, the second call of the day didn’t go so well. It came later in the afternoon.

“What the fuck, Jason?” Dylan sputtered. “What the . . . I mean . . . How . . . What . . . Jesus Christ, those pictures!”

“Wow. Not quite speechless, but that’s as close as you get, isn’t it?”

“This isn’t funny!”

“Are you upset about the
StarWatch
article? It’s nothing. You know how they are. It’s all bullshit, and the photos are completely out of context.”

He waited, listening to Dylan’s slow, measured breathing on the other end of the line. Dylan was furious, that much was clear, but doing his best to keep it in. “I saw the globe.”

Jason swore to himself.
StarWatch
hadn’t focused on it, but of course Dylan had spotted it sitting on the veranda steps. “It’s not what you think.”

“You lied to me.”

“Yes,” Jason said, pushing off the couch. He didn’t want to have this conversation where Ben could hear, even if Ben wasn’t listening. “I lied to you,” he confessed as he took the phone across the hall into the kitchen. “I didn’t destroy the globe, but I haven’t gone crazy again either.”

“You’re doing a damn fine job of faking it, then.”

Jason leaned back against the kitchen counter, his hand over his eyes, trying to figure out what to say. “Nothing I say will convince you, I know that. But I’m fine.”

“Maybe you are, but I’d like to see for myself. I’m coming up there.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Come on, Jason. This isn’t like you. You can’t blame me for being concerned.”

“You don’t need to be concerned. You don’t need to worry about me. In fact . . .” A lump formed in his throat, but he choked past it, knowing suddenly what he needed to do. “You don’t need to worry about me ever again, okay? I can take care of myself. So stop meddling. Stop pretending you care when we both know you don’t. Stay in Hollywood. Go back to whoever you’re fucking this week, and let me be.”

The words hung there, echoing over the line. It took Dylan several seconds to reply. “I’ve always cared about you. You know that.”

Not enough.
The response rose up unbidden, but he stopped it, holding it on the tip of his tongue, wondering at the bitterness and grief that filled him.

“Jason,” Dylan said, and now, the anger was gone. Now, he was pleading. “Let’s go away together, okay? I’ll book the flights right now. Anywhere you want to go. Las Vegas, or New Orleans, or Mexico? Maybe Cancun?”

“No.”

“We’ve talked about Belize a hundred times. I think we should go. We’ll spend Christmas together on the beach, and you’ll feel so much better, I promise. I’ll fix everything. Please. I’ll make everything up to you. Just say you’ll come away with me.”

“I can’t. Not today, Dylan. Not ever.” The lump rose higher. Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks, but he saw now that there was only one way out of this. There was only one way to ensure that Dylan never interfered again. “I’ve spent ten years waiting for you. Ten years watching you fuck your way through Hollywood, waiting here like a fool for the nights you’d decide it was my turn again. I love you. God, I love you so much, I can barely remember a time when I didn’t. But I have to let go now. I have to move on.”

“No. Listen to me—”

“Maybe you care, or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t matter. What matters is . . .” He took a deep breath, wiping the tears from his face, doing his best to steady his quavering voice. “I’m done.”

“Jason,” Dylan said, not much more than a whisper. It was possible he was crying too. “Honey, please stop. If you’ll only hear me out—”

“Merry Christmas,” Jason managed to say. “Good-bye.”

He stayed hidden in the kitchen for a while, his face in his hands, trying to tell himself he’d done the right thing. Still, he couldn’t believe how much it hurt. No, he didn’t love Dylan now the way he had before. His feelings for Ben eclipsed anything he’d ever felt for Dylan. Still, Dylan was his friend.

His only friend, other than Ben.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He’d find new friends, and he’d make up with Dylan eventually.

Probably.

Still, after the things he’d said, nothing would ever be the same. If only Dylan had believed him rather than pushing him to this place where severing their friendship seemed like his only option, but there was no point dwelling on it now. He had Ben. That was the only thing that mattered. He’d protected their secret.

He dried his eyes, hoping to eliminate all evidence of his emotional turmoil. Ben didn’t deserve that. Especially not now, on Christmas Eve.

He returned to the living room to find Ben in the doorway, a worried frown on his face.
Where were you? What happened?

“Phone call. I figured I’d go in the kitchen so I didn’t disturb you.”

Is that all?

“Of course.”

Ben clearly wasn’t convinced, and Jason felt a bit guilty for lying, but he didn’t see any reason to taint Ben’s Christmas with concerns over Dylan.

He needed a way to distract Ben. A way to distract them both, really.

He looked at their tree, which had been wonderful to decorate, but now seemed pathetic with only two gifts under it—one from Natalie, and one from his real estate agent. He stared past it, through the window at his snowy yard. It was only four in the afternoon, but being so late in the year and so far north, the sun was already setting. It’d be dark before long.

And the answer came to him.

“You want to get out of here? Maybe go for a ride?”

Ben’s suspicion gave way to interest.
And go where?

“When I was a kid, we always spent Christmas Eve driving around, seeing the lights, and I hear Coeur d’Alene puts up a lot of them. How about if we drive to town and check them out?”

Ben’s smile lit up his face.
That sounds wonderful.