Question Mark (6 page)

He certainly didn’t think that he’d have some younger man hunting him down and laying it on so thick. Christian had really crammed him between a rock and a hard place. It made Mark seem like he was just throwing his cock around, keeping a list of guys he wanted to spend time with out here. He wanted to explain to Zane what happened—that it was like famine to feast. Mark hadn’t had this much attention since…

God, had he ever had this much attention at once? He didn’t think so. It was completely confusing. Mark had been openly gay a long time, but he’d never been the free-spirited, loud and proud type, so his affairs almost always had a minimalist air: In public, less was more. Rafe certainly hadn’t been overly affectionate in general, but Christian was
clearly
ready to negotiate. It was surprising how nice it was to feel like he was maybe…
wanted
.

And Mark hadn’t even gotten to the part where he was really and truly sitting across from a man he never in all his life would guess he’d get to meet. He was a little star struck. Okay, shit…he was completely star struck and he’d always looked down his nose at people who got all gooey over actors. They were normal people too, right? Somewhere beneath all the fanfare they were just people.

Mark remembered when the news first hit that Zane Whitlow was gay and the uproar it caused. Zane must’ve had a stellar publicist and agent because he didn’t back down and his career barely faltered. The guy did a couple interviews about it and after that, seemed to lock up his private life. Now, oddly enough, this phenomenal, famous man was turning out to be a sort of shy, average guy Mark could see hanging out with. 

He hadn’t let fame get to him.

It was a relief. It was exciting. Zane even seemed like he wanted to please; nervous that his life would turn Mark away. It was only a few minutes ago that people in the bar noticed him and started snapping pictures. God only knew whose hands the shots would end up in. Yet, Zane only wanted to make sure that Mark was comfortable. Zane wanted a real date and knowing that he wanted to spend time alone had Mark putting a mental lock on his jockey shorts. Now wasn’t the time to be slutty, as irresistible as the idea was.

Guess what I did in Bora Bora?? Zane Whitlow!

Mark turned away from the awesome scenery and found Zane watching him. That terrible flush he got when he was caught unaware started at his chest and spread upward and Mark stifled a groan. No need to tell people he was off his game when his face announced it for him.

Zane leaned forward, hands clasped on the table top. “I’ve uh…never been to Bora Bora and it almost didn’t work out for me to come, so the fact that I made it and get to sit at this table with you, in spite of my earlier lack of judgment, pretty much makes my year.”

“There you go, pretending to be charming again,” Mark sighed. “You must be catching on to how it’s done.”

“I’m taking furious mental notes,” Zane admitted, looking fairly pleased with himself.

Mark pictured Zane coming on to him in that oh-so-cool way he had earlier and relaxed back into his chair laughing. He didn’t think he’d ever been more flattered. It was actually the way that Zane confessed to faking confidence that turned Mark’s head.

“This is seriously the first time you’ve been here?”

Mark wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he was pretty sure he’d seen tabloid pics of Zane in some tropical places—bare chested and bronzed, of course, and once sharing a beach blanket with a hottie. At least that other dude was long gone. Not that Mark read tabloids. He had to pass time in the checkout stand doing something, though. He could either read a couple tabloid covers or stare lasers at the lady in front of him paying for a pack of gum with a check.

Zane shifted in his chair, his earlier nerves seemingly gone. “I don’t actually get a lot of free time and as far as vacation spots go, I like that it’s not only totally off the beaten path but across an ocean, too. Mikey and James convinced me that time off was a good idea. I needed a vacation.”

 “I can understand that completely.” Mark took a sip of the beer that the ghosting server dropped off and met Zane’s eyes with a knowing look. “There was too much in Albuquerque to deal with, so I did the research, found this place and made the reservations. Of course, I had to work for two months before I could get an open week to come out here and my mom was pissed I blew off my usual trip home, but it’s looking to be a wise decision so far. Everything…
everybody
…I just left it there. I’m sure that without me nothing will fall to the ground. It’s a freeing feeling.”

Zane cocked his head, and Mark noticed a question in his eyes as he mentioned the  “everybody” he was leaving behind, but the expression was there and gone the next second. It made it seem like he might not be single. Shit.

“You were working, too?” Mark asked, trying to cover up his blunder.

“I was wrapping up some work in L.A. and it was like the same thing was happening to me there; life was getting to be too much to handle. So I said, the hell with it, and made the arrangements. I didn’t think of this before, but we must’ve been on the same flight.”

“Know what’s funnier? I read an article about you on the plane.” Mark teased and Zane winced, hiding his face behind his menu. That wasn’t the reaction Mark expected and his heart went the way of total goo.

“Which one…?” Zane groaned as he waved his words away. “No, don’t tell me. Wait—it was the one in
GQ
, wasn’t it?” Mark grinned wickedly as Zane lifted his head and grimaced. “Those pictures are so…so…”

“Hot?”

“Mortifying,”
Zane said at the same time

“How could those shots embarrass you? Man, if someone took such great pictures of me, I’d be thrilled.” The thought of Zane in that black suit with his dress shirt undone and his pants opened so his black briefs showed, nearly had Mark scraping the plane’s cabin walls for his oxygen mask.

Zane blinked in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? The photographer was, like, ordering me to crawl all over these sofas and desks. My shirt’s wide open and my pants are practically falling off and the dude keeps saying,
‘No Zane. We want secksy. We want pout-ty. Think of your lovah, caressing your skeen.’
” He mimicked the accent of his photographer and continued as Mark leaned forward in laughter.

“So I’m supposed to think about a non-existent lover with all these scantily clad ladies posing next to me while I’m in these awkward positions on office furniture? I wanted to tell the guy that my freaking mom was going to buy this magazine and show it to the ladies in her
book club
, which doesn’t get my motor running… But it was
his
vision.”

When Mark’s chuckles slowed he took another pull from his beer and said, “You couldn’t let him down.”

“Nah. I couldn’t. I pouted and
‘secksied’
until he got those shots. The animal. I felt so used. Plus, I pulled my groin when I got caught in a phone cord.”

Mark almost snorted beer through his nose and hastily grabbed for his napkin. Zane seemed so down-to-earth and it was blowing holes in all of Mark’s preconceptions. It created a giddy feeling…like maybe his love life could be turning around.

Their conversation settled into an easy rhythm after that and even when the server interrupted for their order, and again when he set their plates in front of them, they fell back into it without a hitch.

Zane asked a lot of questions about Mark’s job and he could tell that the other man loved hearing about something so different from his own work. Mark talked about how his parents were still together and living in Bakersfield where he grew up as the youngest of three kids. All boys. 

Zane looked wistful at that. He’d grown up as an only child to a single mother and it sounded tough and pretty lonely to Mark. Surprise of surprises was that Zane was never the outgoing one growing up, either. So exactly how a kid like him grew into one of the most well-known faces in the movie business with people paid to track his every movement, Mark wasn’t sure. He decided to set the question aside for some other time, secretly hoping it would be on a follow-up date.

Mark didn’t want to ask too many questions about Zane’s job because he didn’t want it to seem like that was all he was interested in. He was liking who the man was underneath the surface and so they talked about where they went to college and their majors, hobbies, Mark’s softball league—all the usual stuff—and by the time they were on their third beers and saying no to dessert and coffee, two and a half hours had passed.

Zane asked for the check and though Mark was wiped out from all the traveling, he wished that they could stay there talking until his mouth went dry or they ran out of beer. After a yawn that blindsided him, he apologized.

“I’m not used to the flying, time zone stuff. Think of me as the average grandpa after any traveling whatsoever.”

Zane’s eyes flickered at the description and he surprised Mark in the best way when he reached out and lightly ran his fingers along the back of Mark’s hand. “Would you mind if I walked you back to your bungalow? The least I can do is see you to your door.”

The heat gathering in Mark’s stomach at the touch of Zane’s hand ratcheted up a couple degrees at the murmured question. He watched the other man over the flickering candle on their table and found himself unable to take his eyes from Zane’s.

“I’d really like that,” he answered. His voice came out soft and seductive and his mind did a double-take.
Hello, slut, is that you?

Zane paid for the check, pulling his hand away reluctantly to sign the meal onto his tab. They left the way they’d come in, through the bar area where the night was just beginning for most of the people there. Music was thumping through speakers and it reminded Mark of the last gay club he’d been to more than six months ago—except there were a few more vaginas present here. Seeing it all made Mark feel even older.

Making their way through the crowd, they were jostled a couple times until Zane reached back a hand to pull him up close. His grip was firm and sent shots of pure sexed-up adrenaline through Mark’s body. The gesture warmed him; it was that sensation of being protected. There was something incredibly desirable about being looked after.

A flash and a slightly slurred voice dragged Mark permanently out of sappy fantasy land and he glanced up to see a camera phone thrust in his face before the flash went off again. More flashes and exclamations followed as more and more buzzed people realized that Zane Whitlow was in their midst. In turn, Mark was garnering quite a bit of interest himself because of Zane’s grip on his hand.

Good grief, Mark thought as he was practically punched in the temple with some girl’s iPhone.

“Zane, man! Awesome!” one guy hollered, his breath soured by alcohol.

“I loved you in
The Mercenary
!” another girl screeched at his side.

Mark didn’t know if he should drop his hold of Zane’s hand and run past him into the night, or keep close. Zane made the decision for him by stepping back and tucking Mark in behind him. He faced the people clamoring for attention and, as far as Mark could tell from his vantage point, flashed a bright smile.

A twenty-something girl stepped forward and asked for a picture and Zane agreed. “One picture, but then I’ve got to get out of here. I’m on vacation, too, you know?”

Everyone in ear shot laughed and he posed with the girl, never releasing Mark’s hand. Flashes from cell phones were nearly blinding, but it was over quickly and before Mark got too nervous, Zane turned them both toward the door and blocked him from view until they were outside.

“Whew,” he breathed. “Sorry. It’s just better if I cater to it for a minute so they let me off the hook easier.” He hadn’t let go of Mark’s hand, a subtle signal that wasn’t missed.

“I understand.” Mark hesitated, actually not understanding much of anything that just happened. “You’re uh… really good at dealing with that. I kind of froze.” He tried to hide the quaver in his voice. All of that caught him off guard, which proved he was a dumbass.
Everyone
knew who Zane was. Even on a small island like Bora Bora, he was getting all sorts of attention. In the span of time since they’d sat down to eat, Mark had forgotten all about the celebrity status thing. What a wake up call.

“I really am sorry. It happens sometimes, but usually if you’re nice, the fans back off once they realize they’ve sort of invaded your personal space. Believe me, this was nothing compared to some stuff I’ve seen.”

Mark didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to preserve the evening, and he reminded himself that not everything that happened in the bar was all bad. By taking the lead, Zane pretty much said that Mark mattered to him. That was definitely something worth tucking away to think about later.

They moved slowly down the path into the night air and Mark found himself smiling.

“What is it?” Zane asked, that eyebrow of his popping up quizzically.

“I was thinking about the advice you said your friends gave you and I was wondering what it was, actually.”

“Oh. You mean the advice that exploded in my face? That advice?”