Desmond only hummed in reply. “It was embarrassing and awful,” he said, desperately not wanting to get into the rest of it, “and it was over a long time ago.”
“I see,” Javier said. Funnily, there was no judgement or mocking in those two words. They were a simple statement of acknowledgement. Javier had witnessed the scene, Desmond didn’t want to talk about it, and Javier respected that.
“You are a custom-ordered angel who arrived just in time to prevent an awkward situation from becoming miserable,” he said, smiling broadly. “You should start a service hiring yourself out for rescues or guest appearances as a boyfriend.”
“Something like a talent agency, perhaps?” Javier blinked rapidly several times.
Guilt twisted in Desmond’s gut. “God, sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“You’re good, sweetie.” Javier bumped him with his shoulder. “And it is a good idea.”
Jesus, Desmond didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as Javier.
“Well, I’ve got just under an hour to maybe walk down to the riverfront and grab a bite to eat before I have to go back in there and pretend I’m a new hire at a software company learning their HR system, so let’s make the most of it,” Javier said, brushing his fingers over the back of Desmond’s hand as they walked, then threading their fingers together. “So instead of dwelling on exes and ohs, let’s eat food that’s bad for us and play spot the tourists.”
Desmond smiled, his heart lifting and the weight and sourness of everything he was holding on so tightly to keep ithidden from the world softening. He could lose himself in the fantasy he and Javier had created for themselves just a little bit longer. Reality could wait.
eleven
. . .
It was easy to be lighthearted with Desmond. Everything about Desmond made Javier feel like he could relax and be himself. Even when something was clearly going on with hiscariñitothat made his mouth tight and the frown lines appear between his eyes. It was so much easier being with Des than it had been walking through the boring motions of the training film.
“Has it been a tough day?” he asked as he and Des crossed the street to avoid an unruly school group that must have been on its way to the Cutty Sark.
Desmond glanced at him, blinking in surprise. “No, not particularly,” he said.
Javier’s brow inched up a bit. “So it was that Angus McTavish person you definitely didn’t date putting those frown lines in your forehead, then?”
Desmond flushed so perfectly that Javier wanted to sweep the man into his arms right where they were and give the school group a lesson in love and diversity then and there, even if they looked like they couldn’t have been older than year three. “I don’t have frown lines,” he said, touching his fingertips to the lines in question and frowning deeper.
Javier laughed. “It’s okay. I have an ex or two that makes me frown just thinking about them myself. Or roll my eyes, really. I’m not too proud to admit that I went through a patch at the beginning of my modeling career where I wasn’t as picky as I should have been.”
Desmond’s eyes went wide. “Have I inadvertently tumbled into a relationship with a man-whore?”
Coming from anyone else, that question might have been offensive. But it made Javier smile from ear to ear and his heart flutter a little against his ribs. Desmond was trying to be funny, and in a uniquely raunchy way that didn’t fit his repressed businessman persona at all. The joke was more like what they enjoyed on their precious weekends.
“Oh, come on,” he teased in return as they headed toward a small enclave of food carts at the edge of the tourist area. “Don’t tell me you weren’t just a little bit slutty at university. I’ve heard things about those esteemed old colleges at Oxford and Cambridge. Men have been buggering their classmates senseless in those places since King Kong was a monkey.”
Desmond snorted into a laugh, which was possibly the most endearing thing Javier had ever seem. From corner office executive to blushing school boy in less than five minutes. And in public, too. It had to be a record.
“I didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge,” Desmond said, tugging at the bottom of his suit jacket and pretending to be imperious. I attended the Royal College of London.”
“Oh, I see,” Javier said, nodding importantly. “You’re an RCL boy.”
“Indeed,” Desmond said with a sniff.
He then peeked sideways at Javier with a new sparkle in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips.
Javier grinned unabashedly back at him, his insides turning cartwheels. That, right there. That smile and the way stressand tension visibly sloughed off Desmond’s shoulders when they were together. That was why their entire, odd arrangement was completely worth it. The trials and tribulations of a world that was falling apart around him were nothing when he and Desmond were together.
“I just wish I had more time today,” he said ten minutes later, after the two of them had grabbed food from various carts and performed a miracle by finding a spot on a bench facing the water to eat on. “This industrial film came up at such short notice.”
“Don’t companies usually schedule those sorts of things well in advance?” Desmond asked as he ate a paper-wrapped burger, leaving a dollop of mustard on the side of his mouth.
Javier was so focused on the mustard that he almost didn’t hear the question. His concentration scattered even more when Desmond, sensing the mustard, stuck out his tongue to lick it away before raising a napkin to his face.
It was a good thing the trousers that wardrobe for the film had given him were a little baggy in the crotch.
