* * * *
The ride back to Blayne’s was somber. Once back in the apartment, he pulled the cannoli from the refrigerator, and he and Ethan sat out on the couch. Ethan had gone back to his room and come back out in a pair of soccer shorts and casual tank top to lounge in. Blayne’s jaw dropped as Ethan yawned and stretched his arms overhead. First there was the incredibly ripped stomach and treasure trail. Then Ethan twisted his torso from side to side and Blayne caught sight of Ethan’s side nipple.
Blayne refocused his attention on the countertop and looked down at the cannoli.I’d like to see his cannoli. He shook his head and pulled himself together. He finished plating the cannoli and headed back into the living room. Ethan had sat on the couch.
“Here you go,” Blayne said, handing the plate and fork to Ethan. Ethan reached out and accepted the plate and their hands grazed each other in the pass off.
“Thanks,” Ethan said, looking up at Blayne.
“I’ll be right back,” Blayne said, worried that his resprung erection would slap Ethan in the face if he didn’t cool it…and fast.
“You, okay?” Ethan said after Blayne made a hasty retreat toward his bedroom.
“Yeah, just need to change. Be right back.”
Once inside, Blayne leaned against the closed bedroom door and took several calming, centering breaths. “What the fuck was that?” Blayne asked, looking down at his dick, which was clearly bulging. “Dear God, I hope he didn’t notice.” Blayne walked over to his dresser and fished out a simple pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Once dressed, Blayne waited until he’d completely deflated before heading back to the living room.
“So,” Blayne started as he left his room, “right before we went in to see Jamie, you said you needed to tell me something. Let me guess what that was.” Blayne looked at him with a knowing smile.
“Guilty as charged. I was on the verge of telling you about my career before we were interrupted. I figured you had enough other things on your plate. You didn’t need to deal with my bombshell.”
Blayne came over to the couch, sat down and grabbed his own cannoli from the coffee table. He snagged a throw pillow and put it on his lap as an improvised table, and to hide himself in case his dick got a mind of its own again. He crunched through the pastry crust and savored the first bite. He was enjoying the sweet flavor of the shell and filling when a memory popped into his head.
“Dear God.”
“What?” Ethan looked up in concern.
“In the airport…when we first met, one of your songs was playing. You even told me ZERO was the band.”
The smile lines around Ethan’s face crinkled as he remembered. “Yep, I was in the weird getup. At least you can now understand why I was trying to go incognito through the airport. If I don’t, I’ll get swarmed.”
“And that’s why you dyed your hair.”
“That’s also why I wear a ball cap and shades when we leave the house. Hundreds of thousands of kids like Jamie would spot me from a mile away. I’m less worried about them than I am of the middle-aged women. Some of them can be downright scary fans.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Blayne said, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “Since we’re in the middle of a truth fest, I should at least say I had sex with Dr. Arnold Giest-Mueler and his partner Harry, who’s a professor on campus.”
“Really? You had a threesome with a surgeon and a professor? That’s kind of hot.”
“It was fun, but it was awkward more than anything. It was a onetime fling. We’re still friends, and I swear they’re always subtly trying to get me to join them again. I’m not into that. I don’t mind threesomes. Who doesn’t?”
“Never had one,” Ethan said, a flush of awkwardness crept across his face. “I haven’t had many experiences at all, to be perfectly honest.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Blayne said before joking, “Well, now I sound like a slut.”
“I don’t think you’re slutty at all. You’ve just lived a very different life than the one I have.”
“So, between you, me and the wall,” Blayne said hesitantly, “who was the guy you were seeing? You said he was a soap star, but that’s all.”
“His name is Daniel Hawthorne.”
“TheNOLA Nightsguy?”
Ethan cocked his head, a pretense of a pout on his face, “Sure, you know who the soap star is and don’t have a clue about the multi-platinum-selling musician.”
Blayne scrunched his face and shrugged. “I went through a phase when I was in college. My best friend at the time and I got together every day for lunch on campus.NOLA Nightswas always playing, so we got caught up on the plotlines, whether we wanted to or not.”
“You are a man of mystery, Blayne Dickenson.”
