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“Fine. Fine, I can take that. I’m a big boy.” Domenic took an audible breath. “Listen, I’ve been offered a book deal. A tell-all. And I’m going to take it.”
“Well, congratulations, I guess,” Zach said cautiously.
“I thought I would give you fair warning. I’m going to talk about this. I have an interview on the same show I came out on, on Friday. Watch it, okay?” Domenic said it so easily, as though it was his call to make in the first place.
“You don’t have my permission to out me. And you sure as hell don’t have the right,” Zach warned. “If my name shows up in that book, or on that fucking interview, I’m going to sue you.”
“That’s fucking pathetic,” Domenic seethed. “You’re just going to keep hiding, then?”
“I’m going to do what I have to do to keep my career uncomplicated.” They’d had this conversation before, and it was the memory of those conversations that really concerned him. Domenic had stated, firmly and often, that it was none of his business, and that he would never dream of outing anyone against their wishes. But Zach had heard Domenic swear that he would never do a lot of things, only for him to turn around and do them. Zach used to find that inconsistency charming. Now, it scared the hell out of him. “I’m serious. You go public with my name, I’ll take you to court.”
“Fine. Nothing stopping me from heavily implying.” Domenic sighed. “You know, I thought you were more mature than this, Zach.”
That was the absolute last straw. He wasn’t going to be lectured on maturity by a thirty-year-old who partied with twenty-somethings all night and took handfuls of uppers to work all day. What the fuck did I ever see in this guy? “I’m hanging up. Don’t call me again.”
He flicked the screen and dropped his phone to the plush white carpet. He sat on the top step and hung his head, his hands clasped over the back of his neck.
“Hey.”
He didn’t look up at Javier’s soft utterance behind him. It was way too embarrassing that he’d heard any part of that conversation.
Javier sat beside him on the stairs, so close Zach could feel the heat of his body through the loose cotton lounge pants Javier wore. “I assume that was the director?”
“It was.” If Zach could have disappeared right then, he would have. It was bad enough Javier had been there to see the actual, humiliating break-up—along with millions of other people who just hadn’t realized that was what they were watching—but he had to be there for the aftermath, too?
“If you want to talk about it—”
“I don’t.” He groaned and lifted his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick to you.”
“I overheard you talking about the book,” Javier admitted.
“Oh, not just a book. He’s going to blab it all over tv. He can’t use my name. I’ll call my agent first thing in the morning and make sure this gets worked out.” Zach blew out a long breath. “This is what I get for not being careful.”
“How can you blame yourself? You didn’t know the guy was a douchebag.” Javier stopped himself. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair. It’s not my job to be angry at him.”
“I’m angry enough, thanks.” Zach couldn’t even agree with Javier’s point, really. Hadn’t he known that Domenic was a bad guy? Sure, there had been indicators—his enthusiasm for PBR and bands that sounded like they belonged in someone’s garage, for example—but he’d rationalized that stuff away. It was a different life in L.A., a different culture, he just didn’t get it… whatever he could have possibly thought of at the time to rationalize his attraction to Domenic.
That magnificently clear hindsight made him feel like an idiot.
Javier put an arm around Zach’s shoulders. “Come back to bed. We’ve got an early practice tomorrow.”
Zach waited until Javier rose and offered his hand. He took it and finally faced him. “You left me. Domenic left me. I get not being able to hang on to a guy like you. I don’t get not being able to hang on to a guy like him.”
“Come here.” Javier pulled Zach into his arms and squeezed him tight. “I was stupid. It wasn’t your responsibility to hang on to me, okay? I threw away the only good thing to ever happen to me.”
It was hard, but Zach didn’t let his tears escape. He couldn’t tell if they were happy ones or not, anyway. He’d waited a long time to hear Javier admit that. It was a shame it came as a consolation prize to yet another failed relationship.
Zach let Javier put an arm over him and draw him close in the big bed, anyway. It was stupid, so stupid of him, Zach knew, to let himself be lulled into a false sense of safety. Javier had promised nothing, and Zach hadn’t asked him to.
