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“Can we do that again?” he asked, his face suddenly right up in mine, honesty all over it. But he was an actor, and I didn’t trust a thing coming out of his mouth right now.
“I love you,” I said.
He smiled. “I love you too.”
It was funny how life was so simple when you were happy.
He handed me the lube. “Give me half an hour to recover, and then I want your dick back up there. Doggy style. I want to try all the positions, and then I want to fuck you too. Can we do that?”
Yeah. We could. Because Con Telford was right next to me, in my bed, breathing my air.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Starving,” I admitted.
“Sex or food?”
“Both?”
Neither of us moved. But to be honest, it didn’t really matter. Not right now.
Con
Iwasnevernervous.Well, almost never, but sitting in some kind of tent erected down a central London side street, feeling out of place wasn’t even the start of it. The city was showing herself in her best light, the sun bright in the sky and the temperature already too hot and muggy. And I didn’t even have my Kindle to keep me company.
I was sweating, trying to fan my face with my hand. Well, only because I was early and apparently the first one here, which sucked when the volunteers were huddled in a corner staring at me.
At least Dave had dropped me off in the right place and thank God for him knowing where to go because I hadn’t even thought that far. I was used to being met by handlers and being ushered around like a dog on a leash, yet here I was, on a rickety chair, not a complimentary water bottle in sight.
I stuck out like a sore thumb.
Matt had gone off with his teacher friends in their minivan hours ago, and now I wished I’d reined myself in and stayed at home.
Someone else arrived, whom I vaguely recognised from set, wearing a rainbow-colouredWhite NoiseT-shirt—our uniform for the day, and yes, once again Dave had come to the rescue, handing me mine in the car and making me dump the stupid posh one I’d been wearing on the back seat. Lucia had had a small panic about some designer wanting to dress me, but I’d known about the matching T-shirts and told her that was what I was wearing. Fuck everything else.
It still felt strange standing up for myself, saying no to things I’d previously accepted with a smile. The cheap rainbow-colouredWhite NoiseT-shirt was fine. The size was good, clinging nicely to my curves, but the girl in the matching one was talking to someone else, while I was sitting here like a big blob of nerves.
I had no idea what I’d been thinking. This wasn’t my cause. Or maybe it was. It didn’t feel right. It had, earlier in the week, when I’d insisted that I needed to be here. Now, I had no agenda, no script to go off, and I was starting to realise something I’d never thought of before. Being an actor was easy. Playing someone else? A piece of cake. Playing Connor Telford? It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t straight. I was nothing I could put a label on, and the press would have a field day. Maybe they already had. I hadn’t dared to check social media since my last post, preferring to stay in my bubble of ignorant bliss, and now I was going to throw myself out on some kind of rickety ride around central London, shouting loudly about my queerness.
The tent was filling with more people, who stared at me while I pretended to look at my phone.
Silence.
Well, good. Non-silence usually meant drama, and I couldn’t have coped with that right now.
Another new arrival.
Dave.
Oh, thank fuck for that.
“Hey.”
He was wearing a matching rainbow shirt. I stood up, a little bewildered.
“Are you…joining us?” I asked. He rarely spoke, so I didn’t expect an answer.
