Jessica’s hand snaked down to join mine, reminding me once again that she was there. I roughly caught her wrist, halting her wandering fingers.
I fought the urge to snap at her and instead whispered, “Slow down, doll.” I then shot Evan a pointed glare, begging for him to put a stop to this.
He was lying to himself if he thought she was anything more than his safety net. He wanted her involved so he didn’t have to admit to himself that he really only wanted me. But, if actions spoke louder than words, he was screaming my name so loud we’d both end up deaf.
Her lips had been at his throat, but the only place his had traveled was against my mouth. He hadn’t even kissed her. And, besides his hand on her leg, he hadn’t advanced on her at all, either.
He held my pleading gaze for a few beats before releasing an audible sigh and saying, “I can’t do this.”
Shifting me off his lap, he slid across the seat, leaving me wide open for Jessica to misread the entire situation and swing a leg over to straddle me.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” I pressed myself back into the seat, frantically reaching out for Evan.
This was so fucked up. It was like a comedy of errors without the actual comedy. I was a gay man trying to seduce a straight man who thought I was bisexual while he tried to pretend he wasn’t interested in a gay man by requiring that we share a woman. Because that totally made it acceptable to dry-hump another man.
So.
Fucked.
Up.
I absolutely wanted Evan. I’d felt a connection with him earlier. One I would have given anything to explore further, but not by sacrificing a part of myself.
“Sorry, but this isn’t going to happen,” I told Jessica. I shifted my gaze to Evan. “I’m gay,” I told him. “Not bi. Just gay.” I laughed humorlessly. “I would do anything to be with you, Evan. But not this.”
His shoulders fell, and he raked a hand through his hair. I expected anger or frustration from him. I expected the spiral down, where he would yell at me to go fuck myself as he reiterated that he wasn’t gay. After that, I’d be forced to watch as he took Jessica and cashed in his tickets on the straight train.
“Henry…” he started.
“Don’t.” I waved him off, refusing to look at him again. I couldn’t bear witnessing the regret. Not from him.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, making me flinch.
I offered Jessica a sad smile. “Sorry, doll. Wrong equipment.” I lifted her off my lap, placed her on the seat, and then quickly made my escape to the other side of the limo.
Luckily, it wasn’t but a few awkward minutes until we came to a stop. Carter was in the front seat with my driver and didn’t even have a chance to fold his giant body out before I bolted.
In my mad dash, I’d forgotten that we were in L.A.—home of the paparazzi. They were lined up on the sidewalk, waiting for me. My stomach was already in knots. I had no bag. No room key. No cell phone. Nothing but my wallet and a face that would ensure I couldn’t even walk up to the front desk without being swarmed.
And my heart was breaking for reasons that made no fucking sense.
I needed to be alone.
Using my hands, I shielded my face from the blinding flashes.
“Carter!” I yelled.
The crowd enclosed around me, calling my name in a never ending round. This was the moment when I’d usually smile, sign autographs, pose for few photos, and then shoot the shit with the photogs I recognized. It was nothing new for me.
However, the panic attack creeping up on me absolutely was.
“Carter!” I yelled again, spinning in a circle. “Carter,” I choked out one last time before the oxygen ran out. Folding over, I rested my hands on my knees as photographers snapped countless pictures of my breakdown.
Suddenly, a strong arm linked with mine and started dragging me toward the entrance.
“Get the hell out of the way!” Evan yelled, pushing people from our path.
I wanted to snatch my arm away and tell him that I didn’t need his help.
I wanted to get my shit under control and take care of myself.
I wanted him to lead me through the chaos and then never leave.
Each was an equally worthless desire.
But with no other choice, I leaned into his side and allowed him to guide me through the clamoring crowd. Once we got into the hotel, he led me directly to the elevator. I briefly made eye contact with Carter just before the doors slid closed. Predictably, he was pissed, but I was too relieved to give a damn.
As the elevator carried us up, I remained folded over, doing my best to slow my breathing.
Evan’s heavy hand landed on my back and his breath breezed over my ear as he whispered, “Ten, nine, eight. One in, one out, okay?”
I silently nodded, and he continued.
“Seven, six, five.” He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Four, three, two, one.” He paused. “Shit…I fucked that up. Let’s start at five again. Five, four, three, two…”
The elevator dinged just as the word one cleared his lips.