“That’s nice to hear.”
“Did you get to tell him what you wanted to tell him?”
I think back to the conversation. “Yeah. Actually, I think I finally did.”
“You’re good at that.”
When Spencer stifles a yawn, I kick off the brick wall. “I should let you get back to sleep.”
“Are you sure? I’m awake. We didn’t even talk about your album.”
“No. Thanks. I feel better. And the album…” I try to find my resolve again. “Whatever it takes, I’m going to do right by this album.”
“That’s how I feel after my tennis loss. I’m more dedicated than ever.” Spencer hums. “We don’t need to arrange fake dates anymore, but we’ll have to schedule something fun when you’re in Boston. Clear the air after I try to talk to my dad.”
He’s talking about that like it’s a sure thing, not just a consideration. And I’m grateful that he’s doing it while I’ll be there to support him in person.
“Something fun,” I tell him. “I’m sure we can arrange that.” I let out a deep breath, feeling better. “You should get to sleep.”
“Night, Gabriel.”
“Goodnight, Spencer.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
SPENCER
It’s morning in Boston,and Gabriel and I are naked in my bed together, sitting up with our feet tangled. After some quick and grunty morning handjobs, we’ve been working slowly on our coffees and breakfast smoothies, talking while the sun rises higher.
Gabriel scrolls through social media on his phone. “Damn. Everyone has an opinion on that photo.”
“Lucky our PR teams are so good,” I say.
There were two other photos of Gabriel that surfaced, each more revealing than this one, but our people were already on the lookout, and they paid off the account holders before the images circulated.
Primarily, the fallout is people arguing over whether or not Gabriel is flirting in the photo. All his haters have come back out, but we’ve got an online army of defenders now, too. There are even #MaybeGabriel and #GabrielForever fans out fighting the good fight. It wouldn’t be so bad, except that it comes at such a poor time for Gabriel, who already took a hit with his music this week.
“Lucky for the photos it was so dim at the emo concert, too,” he says, shaking his head. “Thanks again for being understanding.”
“Of course.” I sit up. “My body’s itching to get to the gym. You joining me today?”
“I need to keep drinking coffee and working on these lyrics.” He rubs his hand up my thigh. “And if I stay close with you, I’m just going to get horny again.”
I rub my half-hard dick on his hip, grunting appreciatively. “Noted.”
I’m slow to tear myself away, but it’s not just because of how good it feels to have Gabriel in my bed again. After my morning workout, I’m going to my father’s house. I’ll go at a time when he’s always home, and maybe he’ll see me. Maybe he’ll actually open the door and talk to his son. But if not, I’ve got a letter prepared.
It’s short and sweet. It says that I’m disappointed in him, and it says goodbye.
“Hey.” Gabriel takes my chin, pulling my eyes to his. “You go somewhere?”
“Just thinking about the letter.”
Gabriel pushes his hair back behind his ear. His face creases with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you to his place?”
“No. I need to do this on my own. But you’ll be here after?”
He nods. “Of course. I’ll be available for comfort, distraction, whatever you want.” He catches himself. “Celebration, if it goes well.”
