Aced (22 page)

Once Mateo was done, he bade us a good evening and told me to give him a call when we left, and then he vacated the building, leaving us to enjoy our dinner. But before that happened, I needed to know for some inexplicable reason, “Were you ever
more
than friends?”

* * *

I HAD TO laugh at Ace’s persistence. After taking a sip of my wine, I said, “It’s a funny story, actually…”

Ace growled. “Doesn’t sound very fucking funny yet.”

That just made me laugh harder. “So imagine one day that this guy shows up on your doorstep responding to your ad looking for a roommate, and he’s this big, badass-looking guy with muscles—” I stopped and appraised Ace’s huge biceps. “Okay, with muscles nowhere near the size of yours, but still, a bad-boy bodybuilder type. Black nail polish, a permanent scowl, and sunglasses that hid a black eye…yeah, my initial thought was this guy is fucking hot.”

“Still not funny,” Ace said, crossing his arms.
 

“I think I’ll keep going. It’s kind of a turn-on to see you jealous.”

Ace held up his hand and called out, “Check, please.”

“I’m not done,” I said, pulling his arm down and placing his hand on my thigh. “So, yeah, when we first lived together, we…tried. And by try, I mean it was one night, and let’s just say it did not work out.”

His eyebrow shot up. “Why not?”

“Derek had a hard-on for his professor, which I didn’t know at the time, but his dick was otherwise preoccupied. Meaning it wasn’t
up
to any action with anyone else, if you get my drift.”

Ace began to chuckle, and picked up his fork to twirl it in his pasta. Once it was secure, he raised it to his mouth, chewed, and then said, “You mean
you
couldn’t get the guy hard? I don’t believe it.”

I took my first bite of the lasagna that had been placed in front of me, and moaned as the sauce hit my taste buds and the ricotta melted in my mouth, then nodded. “Oh, believe it. That was the first and last time. My ego wouldn’t be able to take another hit.”

“No offense, but this friend of yours doesn’t sound like a very smart guy if he’s not jumping all over you.”

“Maybe he’s busy being jumped all over,” I said, and leaned in to press my lips to his. “Besides, if he was a smart guy, as you say, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.”

“You’re right. I’ll have to buy the guy a beer.”

“He’d like that.” I winked at him and then took another sip of my wine to muster up an apology. “Listen…I’m sorry I went off on you today. I know you were just trying to help, but I don’t want any special treatment just because we’re…”

“Together?”

“Right, together.” I smiled and then continued, “And really…Ron was right. I don’t know anything, and I miss my lines and my marks. Hell, I didn’t even know what a mark was.”
 

“I can help you with that stuff, you know.”

“Thank you. I’ll have to take you up on it, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think acting is for me. It’s been cool to see the behind-the-scenes stuff, but I think I’d rather leave the movie part of it up to you.”

“But Daydream is such a silver-screen name,” Ace said, his lips twisting.
 

“Fuck you.”

“You never did tell me where that name came from.”

Setting down my wine, I said, “My parents had my brother and then found out they couldn’t have any more children. Not biologically, anyway. They tried for a long time to adopt, and when they finally found me, they said it was a dream come true. The daydream my mom had had for years. It’s a little cheesy, I guess, but you’ve seen they think a little outside the box, so…”

Ace stared at me for a long moment and then a small smile crossed his face. “You never say what I expect you to.” Then he went silent again, looking out over the restaurant. “Speaking of cheesy, would it be too much to ask you to dance?”

My heart skipped like a stone skimming across the water, and all I could do was nod. Ace scooted out of the booth and held out his hand, and when I stood up, he linked our fingers and led us to an open spot situated between candlelit tables. As the soft sounds of jazz played in the background, his strong arm went around my waist, and he brought in our linked hands close to his chest.
 

“Wow,” I managed to say. “Ace Locke is a dancer. I don’t remember that in any of your movies.”

“You mean you missed the straight-to-video release I did early on in my career?” He tsked. “And here I thought you were a fan.”

I craned my head back to look at him. “Oh, I’m a fan.”

He gave me a smile so blinding, I couldn’t help but match it with my own. The hand he had on my lower back pulled me tighter against him and ran up and down the length of my spine slowly. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one I hadn’t experienced before, and it had me breaking out in goosebumps as a shiver ran through my body.

“Cold?” he asked.

Hugging him in closer, I nuzzled in against the warmth of his neck and shook my head back and forth. “No. Not in the slightest.”

As we made leisurely circles in time with the music, I took in every little piece of this moment in time with him. The way he held me as though he would never let go. The fresh, masculine scent of his cologne mixed with the Italian spices in the air and the red wine on his breath. The flickering candles on every table that cast dancing shadows along the walls. It was perfect. Even more so knowing the man who orchestrated the evening had risked exposure to do this for me. For us.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” I said softly.

“Gonna make me grovel more often?” Ace’s voice was teasing, and I smiled against his shoulder.
 

“If this is your version of an apology, I might have to.” And speaking of what he could do…

“So,” I said. “You mentioned before that I needed to sign something before we could do this. An NDA?”

Ace’s body tensed slightly as I gazed up at him, and he schooled his features, trying for neutral. However, he was about two seconds too late.
 

“It’s okay, you know. To have me sign it. I’ve met Frank, Shayne, and I’m sure there will be more before the week is through. I figure you’ll feel better knowing you have that signed and sealed.”

I tried to play it cool, but the furrow that formed on Ace’s brow told me the subject bothered him. That hadn’t been my intention, so I reached up and smoothed my fingers over the frown before lightly kissing his lips.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Ace shook his head. “No. You didn’t. It’s just not ready yet.”

I didn’t believe that for a second, but he seemed to want to let the topic go, and I was of a mind to let him have his way. Because maybe tonight, for one night, Ace Locke didn’t want to be treated as anyone other than a man dancing with another man in a romantic restaurant—and if he could give me that, then I could return the favor.

16

THINK WITH YOUR OTHER HEAD

I WAS SITTING in the makeup trailer a few days later while Trudy applied a layer of foundation to my face when my cell buzzed in my pants pocket.

Who the hell is calling at five in the morning?
I thought, as I stifled a yawn. When I saw the name on the screen, I smirked and hit answer.
 

“Little early for business, isn’t it, Logan?” I said.

My lawyer came over the line and said, “It’s not that early in Chicago, Locke. You know, if you ask me to draw up papers for you, the least you can do is have the person sign them and get them back to me in time to process. You think I don’t have other important clients to deal with? I’m not just sitting around in my office waiting for Ace Locke to pay my bills.”

“Sure you’re not.”

“Don’t think I won’t follow through with my threat of passing you off to someone out there in the L.A. office. I only keep you around ’cause you’re good for my image.”

“Oh, someone’s got his panties in a twist this morning. I already sent you an email about no longer needing the paperwork, so have you suddenly developed an aversion to computers that I don’t know about, because you’re usually on top of that shit.”

“No,” Logan said. “I saw your email. The one with the whole…
oh I met someone, and he’s so sexy, and I think this could really be something
…blah blah blah. Not to sound as if I don’t care or anything, but are you fucking serious right now? Surely I have instilled more wisdom in you than this.”

I thought about Logan and his partner Tate, and how the two of them first began, and couldn’t help but give him a little shit of his own. “Actually, I was taking a page out of your book. I saw something I wanted and I…took it.”

“Not funny, Locke. Your
taking
of things could cost you millions.”

“And the way you talk to your clients could get your ass thrown in jail.”

Logan grumbled something I couldn’t quite make out then said, “Okay, okay. We’ve always been friends first, right? Back in high school before you moved out there, and now.”

“Don’t try and pull the guilt trip with me.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, so I am. I’m just trying to use something that might trigger your common fucking sense, instead of your dick.”

“Like Logan Mitchell’s ever thought with anything other than his dick.” When Trudy raised an eyebrow, I mouthed “sorry” and she went back to powdering me up.

“That’s true, but—”

“I just don’t need the paperwork anymore. And please don’t give me any shit about that. If this was you back when you first met Tate, would you have wanted anything in the middle of that?”

“Fuck no. I didn’t want anything in between us.”

“Then you understand where I’m coming from. He’s not going to fuck me over.”

“But if he does?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. And we won’t.”

Logan blew out a long, dissatisfied breath. “Roger is going to cut off your balls for this, you do know that, right? He’s already been sending me messages about whether or not the NDA is in place.”

“Tell him it’s none of his fucking business.” Then I had to roll my eyes, because of course it was his business,
being my manager and all
. “I’ll deal with Roger.”

“All right, the legal fanatic in me has to say it. Ace, as your lawyer, I need to advise you that the best course of action here to protect yourself is to have any and all parties that have access to you sign the document. However, if you prefer to be a dumbass who listens to your dick—”

“Or heart—”

“—over the brains inside your
other
head, then I can’t stop you. There. That’s all you’ll hear from me.”

“Thank you.”

“Aaaand, I should probably tell you that I just sent a text back to Roger, so good luck with that in about, oh, two seconds. Sorry, buddy.”

“Eat a dick.”

“I plan to in about eight hours.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Good luck, Ace.”

“Thanks, man.”
 

When I tossed the phone on the counter, I leaned back so Trudy could even out the color on my neck.
 

“Friend of yours?” she asked, an amused look on her face.

“Friend and lawyer.”

“Not that I was listening, but he sounds…interesting.”

I barked out a laugh. “He’s a pretentious sonofabitch, but underneath all that he’s a great guy. And a killer lawyer, which is the only reason I let him get away with half the shit he says.”

“Friends that stab you in the front are better than those who’ll stab you in the back. Or at least that’s what my mom always said.”

“I’d prefer them not to stab at all, but I see your point.” I nodded toward my phone. “You’ve got about five minutes to finish my face.”

“Before what?” she asked.

“Word spreads.”
 

“About?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer, because my cell vibrated off the counter.
 

“Says Roger, doesn’t it?” I asked, and Trudy leaned back to glance at the screen.
 

“You got it.”

Here we go.
I should’ve spiked my drink with something stronger than almond milk this morning. When I held out my hand, Trudy placed the cell in my palm, and then I brought the phone to my ear.
 

“It’s a beautiful morning, wouldn’t you say, Roger?” I greeted him, and I wasn’t disappointed when his response was an ear-blasting mouthful that had me holding the phone away from my ear.

“Cut the shit. I just got a message from Logan Mitchell saying you weren’t making loverboy sign the goddamn NDA—”

I put the phone against my chest and told Trudy I’d be back in a minute. No reason to give the crew any gossip to chew amongst themselves. When I was outside and out of earshot, I put the phone back up to my ear to hear Roger still going off on a rant, and I cut in. “Listen, I know you all have my best interests at heart”—cue the eye-rolling—“but this is my decision, and I see no reason to turn this into an argument.”

“You don’t see any reason?” Roger said. “I’ll give you a hundred. Want me to start? First, you barely know this guy—”

“I know what I need to know.”

“Says every single sad fucker who ends up getting a divorce after a month of marriage.”

“No one here’s getting married. Relax.”

“You don’t fucking pay me to relax—you pay me to manage your career and to help you make smart decisions. This? Not a smart damn decision, Ace.”

I clucked my tongue and nodded. “I appreciate your input, and kindly decline to use it.”

“Ace,” Roger said, his voice deep and rumbling, like he was ready to blow a gasket. “This is standard procedure to cover your ass.”

“My ass is quite covered every time, but thank you.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, do you have to blow this off? I’m talking about damage this guy could do to your career.”

“I could make a joke about blowing, too, but I’ll hold myself back. And Dylan’s not just any guy, so whatever
potential
damage you think will happen won’t. He’s not some money-hungry stranger ready to sell me out to the tabloids.”