Didn’t he say his luggage got left behind in LA?
Maybe I could offer him some of my gym gear to wear?
No, he said he had some in his bag.
Maybe I could bring him something else. But then what if it doesn’t fit? He was a good couple of inches taller than me, and no matter what anyone says, those couple of extra inches matter.
My mind races, remembering other details.
He lives in LA too. When this tour is over, I could actually meet up with him. Then a thought grinds me to a complete stop. I don’t even know if he’s gay. Come to think of it, his unkempt look, brown hoodie, and sweatpants didn’t scream gay to me.
The towel around my waist starts to rise, and I feel the blood pumping through my body again.
Nope.
Don’t let yourself get carried away; you need to sleep.
I push my boner down.
Even if there is a remote chance that he is, one, in fact gay, and two, likes you, you need to play it cool. And don’t do the usual, fall fast and hard, only for it to all come crashing down.
I retreat back to the bedroom, throw the towels onto the armchair next to my bed, and reach for my phone. I reluctantly set my alarm for 8:15 a.m., leaving me only five hours to sleep. Six if I’m lucky. But at least this allows me to get in an hour workout before glam arrives and I’m stuck repeating myself for six hours on the press junket.
How in the ham sandwich is it already 8:15? I stretch out my arm, blindly trying to shut off the piercing sound of the devil disguised as an alarm clock.
I swear I only closed my eyelids five seconds ago.
The sunlight peeks in through a crack in the blackout curtains, which I clearly didn’t draw properly.
The pounding in my head feels like I’ve been hit by a forklift truck. I try to lift it from the pillow and immediately regret it. What kind of fresh hell is this?
I grab the water bottle next to my phone and swallow it down three gulps, hoping it will wash away whatever this is, then message Rob.
I’m heading to the gym in ten.
Bring painkillers.
ROB
Sure thing, boss.
Grabbing the coffees now too.
For all the crap I give Rob and have put him through over the years, he’s been a solid guy. He’s learned my morning ritual by heart, knowing that I’m intolerable until I’ve had an iced Americano. And apart from Paul, he’s pretty much been there since day one and has witnessed all the mad shit that’s unfolded. In fact, he was the first one to find out I was gay when he walked in on me and Samuel. Surprisingly, he was totally cool about it all. It made me check my judgment about the types of people I expect to be homophobic.
After freshening up in the bathroom, I make my way into the walk-in closet to pick out gym wear. I throw on fresh briefs and one of my twenty black Nike running tops. I almost grab a pair of gray shorts before opting instead for tight pink ones with a five-inch inseam. They’d caused quite a stir when I was papped in them a few weeks back. If they don’t capture elevator guy’s attention and help me work out whether he’s into guys or not, nothing will. A grin rises to my lips at the thought.
“Boss!” Rob shouts, the sound of the hotel room door closing behind him.
“Just a minute.”
I slide on socks and sneakers and quickly grab a new box of earbuds before making my way out to the living room, where Rob patiently waits in one of the chairs, a packet of ibuprofen in one hand and my coffee order in the other.
“You’re a life saver.”
Rob smirks as I take the iced coffee and pop two pills, glugging them down.
“Ready, boss?” He pushes himself out of the chair and toward the door.
