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A/N: If you are offended by male/male sex, pornography or sex for money then this is NOT the story for you. However if you are not offended and are over 18 then this is a sexy/fluffy/angsty good old fashioned romance based in the world of a gay porn company, so dive in! Oh, and I write a lot of UST apparently. You have been warned.
Thank you to Mkmmsm Fanfiction for pre-reading for me and offering wonderful suggestions that make this story better and to sue273 for doing a brilliant and incredibly quick job of beta-ing despite the fact that punctuation is a foreign language to me.
I don't own anything Twilight, or Corbin Fisher. (Actually I have a rather extensive library of films, but none of the boys in person *sigh*) I of course make no profit from this, only have fun.
I should also say that I completely adore Robert Pattinson and Jackson Rathbone, who my two main characters are based on, and write this full of love and respect for them both. And, no, I don't own either of them. Pity.
~GF~
I opened my mouth to say that it was okay, that I didn't mind, that I WANTED, dammit, but he continued in the same flat emotionless tone. "I won't bother you again." I watched dumbstruck, my mouth dropping open slackly as he squeezed past me and roughly pushed his way through the wall of ferns.
What the hell had just happened?
And what was I going to do about it?
Chapter 8
Jay POV
.
Thud, thud, thud.
I enjoyed my new routine of jogging to work in the mornings.
Thud, thud, thud.
The sound of my feet rhythmically hitting the sidewalk was calming, peaceful in a hardworking kind of way. Usually.
Thud, thud, thud.
Jogging the two miles of streets between my new apartment and Corbin's house gave me time to think, reflect. Today, I didn't like my thoughts much and my feet were just taking me nearer to my problems. Fuck. I turned off my usual route and headed towards a street with a steeper incline. Perhaps the extra workout would help me to forget what a complete asshole I was.
Not a chance.
If I hadn't been running I'd have slapped myself. Again. I couldn't believe I'd gone and done that last night. Couldn't believe I'd pushed myself onto a guy like that. I'd practically assaulted him for fuck's sake. Looking back, behind his lust-filled eyes it was patently obvious he didn't know what he was doing, but I'd been so turned on by him, I'd ignored all the signs.
And I did not break in newbies. Not anymore.
I increased my pace, the incline pleasantly testing my muscles, while the sun rose higher and the temperature began to climb. I felt sweat bead on my forehead and gather between my shoulders under my backpack. It was going to be a hot day today.
Thoughts of work and the temperature were not enough to distract me. My mind swung back to the complete fuck up yesterday had been. Edward looking thoughtful and pensive, Edward looking hot and sweaty, Edward looking like he was interested in me. But I wasn't interested in him - not any more. I wasn't interested in a man who had only just 'discovered' he was gay. Who the fuck did that anyway? I'd known since I was fourteen and I'd seen Jimmy Taylor skinny-dipping in the creek. I wanted a guy who was sure of himself, not someone experimenting and using a porn model to get his kicks before going back home to his girlfriend. I'd had that, thank you kindly. I wasn't going down that road again. I shook the sweat from my eyes and the painful memories from my head. No sir, I was keeping well clear of that. I needed to keep well clear of Edward. My steps faltered and I stumbled over thin air, as a weight seemed to settle in my chest at the thought. A hard cold lump, squeezing my heart.
Angry with myself, I pounded the pavement harder. I was not lost on Edward. I would not let myself be infatuated with someone who would never be ready to commit and who was only here for a couple more days anyway. At this point in my life, I was ready to look for Mr Long-term.
Sure Edward was a gorgeous specimen of a man. Even in the CF house, he stood out as someone special. My first sight of him had had me drooling; long, long legs, slim body but with strong shoulders, clutching a camera with a long fingered hand and looking at me as if . . .
I groaned and picked up my pace again, determined to drive this demon out of me. All day yesterday, he'd looked at me with heated want, his wide, dark-fringed eyes teasing me with their mysterious depths, or so it had seemed to me. Every time I'd seen him, I'd read 'want' in his body language even though he'd somehow managed to look vulnerable and faintly geeky at the same time as strong and sexy. Turns out that's a combination I liked.
I groaned as I ran, what was it about him? The first time I'd seen him, I'd instantly wanted him. Pure physical attraction. What does that say about me? I'd have fucked him right there and then, if Corbin had said Travis wasn't available. Or fucked him and Travis together.
I stumbled again, knees weakening. Holy Christ, don't think thatagain!
In those few seconds when I'd walked into the room ready to film the scene with Travis and had seen Edward clutching a camera, I'd been so glad that I had decided to retire so that I could tap that. Then when T had said - had seemed to say - that Edward was a model too, I was so pissed that I had missed my chance to have a scene scheduled with him. I'd never felt such instant sexual attraction, and I had been so sure he felt it too.
But he hadn't. Not for real. He was here to have some fun, experiment with his 'gay side' and then go home again.
I really wished things were different.
I was so fucked.
I sprinted up the driveway of the CF house, skidding to a stop to enter the code to the side gate. I had been planning to hit the gym to do some weights after my warm-up run but it had turned into a real workout and a good cooling down session was what I needed now after that run or my hamstrings would kill me.
Panting, sweating, 'stinking the place out of fresh air' as Sharon would say if she saw me, I avoided her kitchen and slipped in the side door nearest the gym and shower room. I'd do a cool down jog on the treadmill there and then hit the showers before getting to work.
The gym was a popular place any time of day or night. We all liked to keep in shape, most of us needed to, so the sound of the rowing machine in use didn't surprise me. Grabbing a towel from the rack, I swung around the doorframe and nearly fell over for the third time today. And for the same reason. Edward. He was across the room from me, sitting on the little sliding seat of the rowing machine driving and stretching practically every muscle of his body as he rowed steadily and rhythmically. How I suddenly loved the rowing machine.
The rower was positioned so that when you were using it, you had your back almost completely to the door. Just a little bit of an angle meant that I could see Edward's right side but unless he turned his head, Edward couldn't see me.
He was wearing a white tank and red shorts giving me my first opportunity to see what he hid under his clothes. Holy shit. I'd seen he had strong looking shoulders and a to-die-for ass, but I'd no idea he was so built. Rowing was obviously his thing because the repetitive flowing motion that I found so boring looked second nature to him as he drove his legs powerfully and drew the bar towards his chest, every muscle in his shoulders contracting with the effort. He must have the rower set to a high resistance; I could almost feel the effort every stroke was costing him.
Each muscle in his shoulders and arms was clearly defined as he worked, a faint sheen of sweat making his skin look so fucking lickable. I stifled a groan; if his back looked that good what did his abs look like? The smattering of freckles that I could see across his shoulders just begged to be traced and I wondered what patterns and shapes I could make between them while lying across his back.
I slid my gaze down, not lingering on his tight ass perched on the tiny little seat knowing that my body would react to it, and continued down to look at his oh so long legs. Powerful thighs, fuck yeah, a bit hairier than mine, and I choked back a chuckle when he was at the limit of his pull and his legs were completely extended. He had very knobbly knees. But that was okay, because he was just fucking perfect otherwise.
I allowed myself the luxurious torture of watching him for a few more minutes, enjoying the sight of his shoulder and arm muscles, watching as his shorts revealed hardened hamstrings that in my imagination met his glutes and created that perfect ass, which I couldn't see from here dammit, before he began to slow his strokes, reducing his workout. My time to leave.
I slipped away quietly, it would be better if I just kept away from him. It didn't seem to matter to my body that I now knew he was just here to experiment with his 'gay side'. I needed to keep away from him or I might do something, something else that I'd regret. Not wanting to meet Edward in the gym showers - or really wanting to meet him at all - I headed upstairs and managed to find a free shower up there I could wash and change in. Wash, take care of my Edward-working-out induced business, wash again and get dressed.
I stuffed my sweaty clothes in my backpack and joined the flow downstairs to breakfast. I'd worked up an appetite. Much as I loved having my own place, I really enjoyed being around the house. I always made a point to remember all the new guys' names, even if they didn't return and felt at my most comfortable amongst the crowd of guys. I slipped into an easy smile, pushing Edward to the back of my mind and said hi to the guys, gave Sharon my special smile with the twinkle that she always liked and, feeling more relaxed, headed to the counters where the food was, as always, piled up.
I ended up at the counter next to Pete who was refilling his coffee. I'd been kind of hoping to avoid him for a while. He fixed me with his assessing stare, looked me up and down for signs of what I didn't know, before casually returning his attention to fixing his coffee.
"Hey, Jay, come and sit with me," he asked, nodding out to the already sun-drenched patio. I glared at him suspiciously. I had a sneaking feeling he'd only asked me, no begged me, to go out with him and the guys last night because he knew Edward would be there too. I knew Pete well enough to know that he was such a fucking romantic and matchmaking was practically a hobby for him.
No matter what, I didn't want him interfering between Edward and me - not that there was an Edward and me, of course. But I knew Pete . . . Glancing over to where he had indicated, I saw only his plate on the table so it seemed safe and I nodded in agreement and relaxed a bit. Too soon as it turned out. He pounced.
"Good. I want to know why you ditched me last night!" he poked me in the chest with a determined finger. "Texting me saying you weren't feeling well, Jay! What was that about?"
I should have known I wouldn't have got away with leaving the restaurant so suddenly. Glancing round nervously to see if anyone else was listening to my humiliation, I mumbled, "I wasn't feeling well," and helped myself to food. Pete pushed the jug of milk towards me and I poured my usual breakfast drink.
"Well, come and sit with me and tell me all about it," he insisted, a determined glint in his eye. "I'll be over there waiting. Don't make me come and find you." Shit. Pete on a mission. I finished filling my plate though my appetite had all but gone now. Turning, I watched him settle in his seat and inch the chair round until he was facing the sun. Pete loved to soak up the sun in the mornings. Like Superman. I smirked at the thought. Superman indeed.
Casually – yeah, right - I looked round the patio, taking note of everyone who was there. I couldn't see any sign of Edward in the growing crowd and I'm sure I'd have seen him if he was there. The sun would have turned his hair the colour of an old copper penny. Beautiful.
Cursing under my breath - would I ever get him out of my mind? - I wandered over to join Pete, trying not to let him see how much I was dreading his inquisition.
Sliding into a seat beside him, not blocking his sun, I began to eat, determined to resist all questions and demands that Pete might make.
I ate some bacon, he drank his coffee. I fiddled with my glass, he drank his coffee. I ate some fruit . . .
I couldn't stand the silence any longer. My words exploded out of me in a barrage of released frustration. "Jesus, Pete, I fucked up last night! I did something . . . but I was wrong about him . . . and I wish . . . But it can't . . . oh God, it was all just a complete fuck up!"
He regarded me carefully, nursing his coffee. "You were having a bad day yesterday then?" he commented, looking at me for more.
"Pete, this whole week so far has been a mess."
"And last night?"
I sighed. I was going to have to tell him, but actually, now that I'd thought that I was starting to feel a bit, not better, but lighter. Telling Pete what happened, what I had done might help. "Last night I, well, I didn't exactly behave in a way my Gram would approve of." He just nodded noncommittally and I plunged on. "It's Edward." Pete flashed a brief smirk. He knew full well it was Edward that had me tied up in knots. Probably all the staff did. One big family and all. Gossips the lot of them. "Look," I continued needing to try and explain myself. "I don't know why but I got it into my head that he was a model too. You know, that he'd been around the block as much as I had. And so, when he looked as though he might be interested, I grabbed him, shoved him up against the wall and kissed him."
Pete's eyes were alive with delight. "Really, what happened?" He leaned in over the table drinking in my confession.
"You know what happened. I realised my mistake and left."
"Okay, but why? I don't understand, Jay, tell me all!"
I sighed and slouched back in my chair in defeat. "I can't do that again Pete," I replied quietly. "It'll kill me."
Abandoning his coffee, Pete ducked his head persistently until he made eye contact with me. "What makes you think this is the same situation?" he asked me quietly. "Maybe you're making it out to be worse that it is."
"How can I be? Edward 'suddenly discovers' that he's gay, gets himself a job at Corbin Fisher, flies out here and finds himself a guy to fool around with. Facts Pete. History repeating itself."
"The way I hear it," began Pete, carefully picking his coffee up again. "Corbin picked him up at the airport."
What? Was Corbin making the moves on myEdward? For a second, I literally saw red.
Pete chuckled brightly, enjoying himself at my expense. "Relax," he waved a hand dismissively at me. "I mean he offered him the job at the airport. Edward was about to fly home after another job or something, and with Connor injured we needed another man on camera, so Corbin hired him there and then. No pre-planning." He ended with a significant look.
I had to admit I was relieved. The thought that Edward had planned this, had come here deliberately just as Ian had . . .
I pushed the painful memory away; no way did I want to think about that scumbag again.
"That doesn't change the fact that he's 'just discovered' himself," I reminded Pete bitterly. "I mean who the hell doesn't know they're gay till they're . . . what is he twenty five, twenty six?"
Pete regarded me steadily. "Everyone is different, Jay," he said sternly. "There's no right or wrong way for everything. Try and remember that."
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my board shorts and nodded. He was right, of course, I shouldn't judge. "But it still doesn't . . ."
He glared at me, shutting me up.
"This is not the same," he stated. "It's about time you took a chance again."
I opened my mouth to tell him that I had no intention of taking a chance but he shut me up again with words that chilled my blood.
"Now, I've decided to help you. And God knows you need it."
Oh dear Lord, just when I thought things couldn't get worse.
He grinned wickedly. "You can thank me later." Then loudly and brightly, he cried, "Morning Edward," as he waved at a jeans clad, blue t-shirt wearing, scruffy haired man, who had somehow become the centre of my admittedly skewed world, as he approached the table.
"Play nice," Pete warned me under his breath.
Fuck.
I looked up at the man now standing next to the table holding a plate of breakfast and looking shocked and embarrassed – his cheeks were so pink I wanted to see if I could feel the heat. Edward shuffled his feet and looked imploringly at Pete.
"Er . . . I didn't know you were sitting with some . . . um . . . with Jay. I'll sit somewhere else."
"No!" cried Pete jovially, clasping his hands together and smiling his most engaging smile at Edward. I think the fucker even batted his eyelashes. I glared at him. "I asked you to join me this morning, and I've been looking forward to it." He kicked me sharply under the table and I hastily sat up and cleared some room on the small glass topped table. Pete was such a traitor.
Edward was still looking unsure, his pink flush deepening to a hot red as he noticed my bare legs and knees. Shit. I liked that he liked.
I was in so much trouble.
"Maybe Jay would prefer it if I sat elsewhere," Edward asked Pete imploringly as he firmly switched his gaze from my legs back to Pete.
"No, of course he wouldn't," replied Pete firmly before I could say that actually . . .
"Um, okay then." He lowered himself gingerly down onto the edge of the chair looking as though he was preparing to spring up again any second. I looked at his long legs in pale washed-out jeans today and thought about how hot he would be today wearing heavy denim when the temperature was due to soar.
Pete fiddled contentedly with his coffee cup again. I rudely remained slouched in my seat, hands shoved in pockets and Edward uncomfortably pushed some food around his plate.
"You know Edward, Jay here thought that you were a model at first," announced Pete brightly, breaking the ice. Edward dropped his fork with a clatter and I shot up straight in my seat so fast the damn thing skidded backwards. What the fuck Pete?
Edward looked pole axed, as he looked between Pete and me, as if searching for some hidden meaning, before settling on Pete's slim tanned face.
"You mean, he thought I was . . . that I . . . like you and Jay?" He sounded incredulous.
"Yes! He got the wrong end of that story! But who can blame him, gorgeous man like you?" I watched narrow-eyed as Pete slapped him on the thigh under the table. I almost growled. Hands off, Pete. Edward didn't know whether to laugh or say thanks and settled for doing a mix of both and ducking his head to concentrate on his plate. I smothered a grin - he was so damn cute - and made myself feel better by casually crossing my ankles and swiping Pete painfully on the shin at the same time.
He hid his wince and pouted at me. I gazed innocently back at him in return. This was all his fault.
"Anyway," he breezed brightly, turning back to Edward. "Us retirees have to stick together so it's behind the camera only for Jay and me now isn't that right, Jay?" Edward was looking back and forth between us again as if he was at a tennis match, before settling a penetrating gaze on me and speaking directly to me for the first time.
"You've retired?"
I nodded.
"You don't make films anymore?"
I shook my head this time.
"No more sex?" he asked sharply.
"Not on camera," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I didenjoy sex after all, and planned to still do it, thanks, just not for money anymore.
"Well, I've got to be going," announced Pete suddenly, jumping up from his seat. What the fuck? He was leaving me? Now? Alone with Edward? My mind kind of wanted to run in another direction at that thought and I hastily put a stop to that. There would be no 'alone with Edward' in that sense again. I felt a hollow ache in my chest.
I was in so much trouble.
"You two just stay here and finish your breakfasts and have a nice chat," ordered Pete - at least that's how it felt to me. "I'll catch up with you both later." That was definitely a threat. He waved cheerfully and I glared after Pete as he rapidly retreated. Then chuckled to myself as I realised Edward was doing the same thing. Both of us had been shafted by Pete, it seemed.
He glanced at me and caught my amused resignation at Pete, and made an acknowledging sort of half shrug before staring down at his plate and shifting scrambled eggs around. He was so damned adorable sitting there all embarrassed and tongue tied and sexy as fuck.
Shit. I'd told him I wouldn't bother him again. I'd told myself I wouldn't bother him, but still I found myself looking and wanting and needing. I had to say something to him. I had to apologise for last night, I had to, well, make things right with him. Somehow.
I manned-up and nodded in the direction Pete had disappeared in, though since Edward was still fixing his eyes on his plate, I didn't think he'd see. "Sorry about him," I apologised a bit hoarsely, "Pete's just . . ." I trailed off and shrugged unable to describe Pete - politely that is.
Grey-blue eyes looked up at me from under his brows, hanks of hair lifting and falling in the breeze. Now you see his eyes, now you don't. "Yeah, I noticed," Edward muttered, shrugging back awkwardly and flicking a quick blink-and-you-miss-it one-sided smile. "I like him, though, he's okay."
Like him? What did that mean? I felt a burn like acid and realised that it was jealousy. I was so fucked. "Yeah, he's great. I'm sure Scott, his boyfriendthinks so too." I stressed the word boyfriend and then felt like a complete dick for doing it. Edward was going to think I was nuts. Or jealous. Either way I was fucked.
But Edward just looked faintly puzzled, his brow creasing in a way that just made me want to smooth my thumb over it – so completely fucked - and nodded in agreement.
He picked desultorily at his food and I did the same. Really, there was no way either of us was going to get any protein in us this morning at this rate. I groaned to myself, my mind had gone straight to the gutter at that last thought, and pushed my plate away.
"So you've really retired now?" Edward asked, an undertone of need edging his voice. Was he upset I wouldn't be a 'star' anymore? I swallowed at the acidic taste that thought brought. Ian had loved my 'celebrity' status.
"Yeah," I grunted. "That scene with Travis was my last."
Needing a distraction, I stood up and he looked up at me in alarm. Alarm that I was leaving? Did he want me to stay? Even after last night? Distracted, I blurted out, "I'm going to get some more moo juice, want a refill?" I nodded at his almost empty coffee cup.
"Moo juice?" he asked, a delightful expression brightening his face. His eyes even twinkled dammit. I swear I blushed as red as he managed to do.
"It's what my Gram always calls it," I muttered defensively, snatching my empty glass from the table and heading back over to the serving counter. But not quickly enough to miss the wide grin that had spread across his face. I stumbled. Holy Jesus, that man had a smile to stop traffic.
I brought him a coffee back along with my mo . . . milk and slumped back in my seat waiting for what I didn't know. Ridicule? Footsie under the table?
He was leaning on his elbows on the table, the plates and silverware pushed to the side, completely opposite to my admittedly fake relaxed attitude. He looked nervous, on edge. I sighed, my fault, of course. From deep inside, I felt an overwhelming urge to do anything, say anything to make things right, to put that carefree delight back on his face again. I repressed the urge. I wasn't going to let myself get hurt again, remember? I needed to say something though.
"Listen, Edward . . ."
"Umm, about last night . . ."
We both spoke at once.
"After you."
"Sorry, go ahead."
And again.
I opened my mouth and took a breath to try again, just as he did the same. This was ridiculous! I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped instead and he grinned sheepishly back. I think my heart broke just a little. I wanted him - I wanted not just his body and his fuck hot kisses, I wanted all of his contradictory self. The shy smiles and the delighted grins, the humour and the seriousness, the strength and the insecurity. I wanted it all and it was killing me that I couldn't have it.
I'd been hurt before. I wasn't going to let myself be hurt again. It was simply a matter of self-preservation. Besides, he was leaving in a couple of days, right? There was no hope for us anyway.
"I wanted to say I was sorry," Edward stated, his voice quavering a bit, while I was wasting time musing over depressing thoughts. He cleared his throat. "For what I did last night," he continued in a set determined tone. I think he'd been practising that line. I looked up at his face sharply, took a good look at the scruffy jawed, dark shadowed face that was across from me. Did he sleep last night? I felt guilt twist around inside me. I was such an asshole. Those were my words. Or they should have been my words. Hewas sorry? He carried on gamely not meeting my eyes, his voice low and earnest for all his hesitant sentences. "I don't know if, well, if you wanted me to . . . but last night, well, you kissed me first so . . ." he was almost squirming in his seat, dark pink staining high across his cheeks, a mix of worry and determination in his eyes.
"I wanted," I replied hoarsely, unable to let him suffer in uncertainty despite my resolution to break free from whatever this was. Oh, God yes, I wanted. "Edward, God, I need to apologise too. I came on too hard, grabbing you like that and making you . . ." It was not a good idea to be reliving last night. Not now. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." So, so, sorry.
"Oh," he swallowed and I watched him fidget nervously, his long fingers casting shadows on the table. I couldn't help the thought that his hands would feel incredible on my skin. "So then it's because I, um, don't have much experience then? I wasn't very good?" he asked quietly, meeting my eyes at last with his clouded grey ones anxious while sadness swam in their depths. He brought his hands together and gripped them so hard the knuckles were white.
Jesus wept. I couldn't let him think that. I leant forward on the table matching his pose keeping my hands to myself only by sheer effort of will. I wanted to touch him, comfort him so badly. "Edward, if you'd been any better I would've melted." My accent came out thickly dammit as it always did when I was full of emotion and I watched as his eyes clouded over for a moment with desire rather than anxiety.
"Oh, so why . . .?"
Our voices were quiet as we spoke. Our faces were so close as we leaned across the table towards each other, I could almost feel his words brush across my skin.
What to say to him, what to say? Well, not the truth obviously. Not the fact that I craved him, that he already had a little piece of my heart and I was in danger of handing him the rest. I sighed. "Edward, I like you and you're a great kisser, don't worry about that, but you're only here for a couple more days and . . . and I think I'm going to get hurt here." Shit. So much for not telling him the truth. I think I blushed as dark a pink as Edward did as the truth sort of tumbled from my mouth. God, the man was beginning to rub off on me. Oh fuck. Figure of speech. Don't think about him rubbing off on me.
Too late.
I shifted in my seat trying to get a bit more comfortable, damn shorts didn't hide much, so it was a good thing I was sitting down. His mouth had dropped open – not helping Edward– and he looked startled, pleased, confused again and then excited.
"So," he said, still not loudly but slowly and clearly now. "You like me then, yes?"
I nodded dumbly. I'd kinda let that horse out of the barn.
"You wanted me to kiss you last night?" Not only last night. I nodded again resignedly. What the hell.
"You're gay then?"
I nodded dumbly again then realised with a start that it was a question. What the fuck? Of course, I was gay. I'd been eye fucking him all day and then I threw him up against a wall and kissed him. What did he think I was? Straight?
Oh, shit. I could see in his face that he had. Oh Edward. I felt a slow heavy sinking feeling in my chest - what the hell was it with feeling this stuff?I could understand that it must be confusing for him to be here among all these straight models who had sex together but he was obviously as new to this experience as he'd said he was. He had the worst gaydar of anyone I'd ever met. I was terrified he would come to mean something to me and then would change his mind and go back to his straight home and his straight friends and his straight life. I didn't think I could handle that.
"Oh fuck, Edward, yes, I'm gay. Yes, I like you but I'm sorry, that's where it has to end."
The breeze blew some pink petals from the stuff growing on the trellis onto the table and I crushed them fiercely between my fingers feeling like a complete shit for having to say this to him. If he did like me, I was hurting him.
"Why?" he asked quietly.
Good question.
Shut up.
"Because you're leaving soon, because I can't do this. Because I need a guy who is comfortable with what and who he is. I can't be an experiment or a learning experience. I've been treated that way before and I just can't go down that road again."
He opened his mouth to reply but I cut him off, "We can be friends while you're here. I'd like to hang out with you but there can't be anything more than that." Where had that come from, what happened to staying away from him? What was I, a masochist? Spending time with him would kill me.
He looked at me, jaw set, a slightly wistful look in his eyes. "I get it. I don't know enough for you," he ventured.
"No, that's not it. Look, a couple of years ago there was this guy, he turned up here doing some work in the office and we, well we got together. He said he'd only recently realised that he was gay and that he'd seen my films and he asked me to show him everything, to teach him and, well I fell for him hard. And then he left. Went back home to his girlfriend and his daughter and his life and I can't risk that again. Edward, you're incredibly new to what you think you're feeling and you want to experience new things. I get that. But I can't teach you. I can't do it again. I'm sorry."
He was regarding me carefully. God what was he thinking? I could almost believe he was hatching a plan.
"But we can be friends?" he asked giving me a small smile and a hopeful look.
"Yeah, I'd like that." It would kill me later but I'd like it now.
His smile brightened into a slow beaming slightly lopsided one, the corners of his eyes creased and crinkled and his eyes sparkled. Traffic stopping. "I'd like that too," he told me sincerely.
Trying to slow my pounding heart, I gave him back one of my own knock'em dead smiles and was rewarded when his breath caught and his eyes widened. I grinned more genuinely and he caught on to what I was doing and laughed. Such a beautiful sound. I joined in and suddenly the shitty day got a whole lot brighter.
Sitting up straight, I held out my hand towards him over the table. "Perhaps we should start again. My name is Jasper Whitlock and I'm a graphic designer here at CF."
His eyes widened in comprehension and they darted briefly over to the production building before meeting mine again. Sitting up straighter himself, he reached forward and took my hand. It was like the first time. Like fire under the skin. He asked with his eyes but I shook my head and whispered, "No, just friends Edward, please?"
His shoulders slumped slightly and a little of the brightness dimmed from his eyes but he shook my hand formally and replied, "Edward Mason, videographer, pleased to meet you."
~GF~
How long we sat at that table talking I don't know. The sun got hotter and Edward's nose got a little bit pinker but I didn't tell him. I didn't want to break the spell. I was enjoying myself. Edward was funny and earnest, passionate about his work, happy to listen to me blather on about mine. It was all goddamned perfect. Eventually, Pete came out apologetically and let Edward know that they were waiting for him on set to start and our time was over. After Pete left us to it again, I spoke up quickly, before I could change my mind, "Want to get out of here tonight? Come over to my place, I'll cook?"
"You don't live here?" he asked in surprise.
I laughed, hell no, it was like a frat house here. I'd had enough of that. "No, I just work here, though it's hardly nine to five. I have a place - it's nothing like this house. It's just a small apartment, and the building is kind of old, and I haven't finished unpacking yet . . ."
"I'd love too."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah or I wouldn't have said it!" he laughed.
I'd never felt like this. Never. It felt like a date. It wasn't. We were just friends. But it felt like a date. I had a sudden urge to run home and check what was in my closet. What the hell could I wear?
Edward was laughing at me again as he stood up. "I'm sure your place is great, just like you. I'll see you later." The backs of his fingers brushed the back of my hand with the barest of touches and it could have been an accident, could have been my imagination but in my mind, that long fingered brush had been everything. Hello, goodbye, see you later, mine.
In that moment I knew. I'd fallen. Hard. I was going to get so hurt.
I've really enjoyed writing Jay! Back to Edward next chapter. What will he do next? Will Edward get his man? Stay tuned to find out!
