What would I be like if he wasn’t in my life anymore?
Would I be okay with that?
No. I wanted more; I wanted Cam for as long as I could imagine.
So maybe this was the start of love, the seed of something more.
After all, why not? When the time is right, the heart knows.
This new love was an enormous pressure in my chest that made me want to tell the world I was with Cameron Chavkin, and to do it now.
Yeah.
Love.
What about my part in The Cup? What about my career? What about not being hired for parts because of who I slept with? What about Cameron and his testosterone-laced team?
The what-abouts were killing me.
The car service took me from the rink directly to the studio, and once dropped off I headed up to the labyrinth of rooms on the fifth floor. From the window, the entirety of Hollywood lay out in all directions, a community of story tellers that loved their work. I was at home here. I belonged here.
I loved Cam.
I wanted it all.
Was that wrong?
“Okay, everyone?” River Grierson rapped his knuckles on the table, but it wasn’t for everyone else’s benefit, it was for me, because what with love and my ever-present battling thoughts, plus trying to channel the character of Hayden “Mac” McKenzie, I was a mess. I focused in on River, who narrowed his eyes at me, and I could almost read the expression he had as stop-fucking-up-or-you’re-fired.
He cleared his throat. “Okay then, from the top of page seventeen; our hero, Mac, is at home, coming to terms with the loss of the Cup, and go!”
I read my lines, wondering if this was how Cam would say them, wondering what Cam was doing right now. Was he missing me?
“Okay, everyone, let’s call it a day. Finn, can you stay back please?”
Everyone else scuttled out of the room, a couple of them glancing back at me and offering me sympathetic half-smiles.
When the last of them had left, River shut the door and scooted a chair close to mine.
“Talk to me,” he urged.
“Sorry, my head isn’t right today.”
“Tell me what is stopping you from feeling the character—do I need to get the writer in and—”
“No, this is all on me.”
He patted my knee and then, sat back. “Talk to me if you like.”
“I want this role.”
He nodded. “And there is nothing you can tell me that will change that. Unless you’ve killed someone, have you killed someone?”
“No, jeez. No. It’s just…”
“There’s no ‘just’ here, and this is a safe place.” He waved at the desk in the corner of his vast office space, and for the first time I noticed the strategically positioned rainbows, and a photo of River with another man. Everything seemed to add up in that moment—River Grierson was queer? Or at least, an ally? How did I not know that? Why did he come to think I needed a safe space? Was I doing the subterfuge wrong? Was I messing this up?
“I can’t skate,” I blurted, and his eyes widened. Maybe I shouldn’t have opened with that. “I mean I can now. I’ve been having lessons from Cam, Cameron Chavkin, from the LA Storm, and I can do all the shots you need, but I fell in love with him, and I’m not out and I want to be, but then who will take me seriously because I’m just some half-assed action hero with stupid quippy one-liners and an acting start in daytime soaps. You say this is a safe space, but what if the studio pulls funding, what if…” I couldn’t carry on.
He chuckled, and that seemed so wrong. “I am the studio. It’s all mine. I’ve reinvested every single cent I’ve made back into this place. You want to come out, you do that. I don’t have time for any place that forces a person to hide their true self.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope. You don’t have many chances to find love in this world, so do what I did, tell the man you love him, then cling to him until he believes you. Acting is your job, but Cameron…”
“He’s my heart.”
“Exactly. Now, tell the man you love him. Grab that love and don’t let go. Then, tell the world if you want to, or don’t, but either way, you’re playing the role of Mac, and I want you back here two p.m. tomorrow sharp, for another run-through, and this time with a clear head.”
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even look at my phone, even though I saw the first message was from Cam explaining he might be a bit late in the morning.
If I started talking to him now, I’d probably lose my shit and ruin everything.
River was right; acting might be my career, but Cam was my heart.
I was dressed and waiting by the ice when he appeared, and I was going to play this cool and not leap at him, but he kissed me -- long, slow, drugging kisses that made me cling to him.
It had to be now.
I had to tell him, throw the dice, and see how they fell. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 16
Cameron
Well, that was always ominous.
It felt really bad to be on this end of those four famous words.
I’d not been dumped before. Never. Simply because I always hit the bricks before anyone could form an attachment. Now, I knew why I’d booked after each hookup. This feeling sucked.
“Sure, yeah, we can talk,” I replied trying to sound as cool as possible on the outside. Inside, I could feel my heart cracking. Damn it. I should have stuck to my guns and not allowed myself to fall for this man. Everyone knew you didn’t skate when the weather turned warm, and the ice got thin. This was why. Now, I had to sit down on the home bench, smile, and pretend that him saying we had to call it quits was hunky and fucking dory with me. “Let’s sit.”
He nodded, his hair glowing like ingots under the rather harsh lights of the rink. Every push to the bench felt like a step to the gallows.
We went over the boards, just as I had taught him, and settled down on the cold, hard bench. I placed my stick over my lap, worked up all the intestinal fortitude that I had, and looked his way. Both of us had removed our skates, then tied our sneakers. Yes, I was stalling. Big. Time.
He smiled at me. A soft, fluffy kind of tender uplifting of his sweet lips that didn’t sit right with what he was about to do. Was it proper protocol to dump someone while smiling at them? That seemed cruel.
“So, I had some time to think.”
“Uh-huh.” I began fiddling with the tape on my stick. Scraping a nail along the edge until I got a corner loose, then picked at it as I stared at Finn. “Thinking is good.”
“Yeah, for sure. It’s also pretty scary when you’re thinking of big stuff.”
Shit. Yep, here it came. This was when he was going to explain that he enjoyed our side benefits, but it was time to call it quits. After all, he needed to focus on the movie, I could feel it. He’d learned quickly and there wasn’t much more for me to teach him. His skating was good enough for a movie—and his checking skills were much improved. My ass could testify to that, as he’d knocked me to my rump during a heated scrabble over the puck in the corner. Afterwards, he had kissed it better. Then fucked it better. Damn it. I was going to miss his kisses…