“You still hoped you were straight.”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re not.”
Bing shrugged, the movement filled with defeat, and Walter sighed. This was not at all what he’d expected. Bing was always in control, always had an answer. This droop to his shoulders was new, and the way he held himself apart….
Well, he’d always done that, but now maybe Walter understood.
“You’re gay. Or maybe bisexual,” Walter said. “Admit it.”
Bing lifted his chin, but he didn’t speak. It took even longer for him to raise his gaze to meet Walter’s, but no words were spoken.
“You don’t have to admit it to me, but it’s terrible going through life hating yourself for what you are.” He knew. He hated the anxieties that sometimes dogged his every breath. But even that wasn’t as bad as the self-loathing he’d seen in guys who rejected their own sexuality. That was a miserable road in life.
“With Kong, I had to have mijiu,” he whispered. “With you, there was no mijiu. It was you.”
Okay, then. Past lovers could be ignored. Walter wasn’t a virgin either. But how had Bing managed to keep this knowledge bottled inside when they’d been inseparable? “We lived together for a year and a half. We worked on the script, shared a closet of an apartment, and even drank mijiu together. You never, ever reached for me.” And Walter did not push the issue back then—not after Bing rebuffed him in China.
Bing nodded. “We were partners. There was too much at stake.”
“Have you been with anyone other than Kong?”
“No!” The word was swift and vehement. Walter believed him.
“Did you want to? With another guy or a girl?”
Bing’s jaw worked for a moment; then he practically spit out the word. “No. There has been no one else.”
But me.The two words echoed in Walter’s head. Bing hadn’t said them, but Walter prayed they were there. Especially because since the moment he’d met Bing, Walter had never wanted anyone else. But neither of them had said a single fucking word.
“Tell me the truth now, Bing,” he ordered. “Right here, right now, where there are no cameras, no press, no one but us. Tell me.”
It took a long time, but Walter wasn’t going to cave. He needed Bing to admit the truth if there was ever going to be something between them. Walter might have insecurities, but he also had rules, and one of them was that he would not add to someone else’s issues. Not if he could help it.
Eventually Bing spoke. “I’m gay. I like men.”
Men, not a man. General, not the specificI like youthat Walter had been hoping for. But that was okay, because Walter wasn’t ready to forgive Bing for all the other things that had happened between them.
“Do you know what it’s been like for me, Bing, with you gone?”
Bing’s eyes flashed with uncertainty. “You have done excellent work here.”
It was nice that he noticed. “Yes, I have, but that’s not what I meant.” When Bing didn’t speak, he pressed on. “I thought you’d died. I thought you’d disappeared and hung yourself from a rafter somewhere.”
Bing stiffened. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Good.” One worry eased. “But I didn’t know. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I was in wolf form for two days—and that wasafterI returned to consciousness.”
Walter blew out a hard breath. “I looked for you for two months. I called everyone, went everywhere. Even when I was working on moving the sets, getting new funding, everything—I did it while in my car, driving every place I could think of where you might go. I left pictures of you all over LA and sent more to China. You were nowhere to be found. I was going crazy looking for you.”
Bing’s gaze dipped low again. “A month passed before I could get on the internet.” Regret colored his words. “When I did, I read your emails.”
So he had gotten them. “And?”
When Bing didn’t answer, Walter reached out. The movement was quick and a little harsh. He tapped Bing’s chin to bring his head and his eyes up. By God, he would make Bing look at him as he explained, even if the explanation was that he didn’t want to have anything to do with Walter anymore.
