“I know,” Hilliard breathed.
They remained on the sofa for a while, necking like they were a decade younger than they actually were, stealing every second they had before curfew forced them apart. But aside from his mother’s letter of reproval awaiting a reply, there was nobody trying to stop them. So they turned out the lights and crept to the bedroom–their bedroom–and made love like they had all the time in the world.
Chapter 27
Monty
Despite the fact that Hilliard had assured him there was no rush, taking care of the house had been surprisingly easy. It was just as well as Monty was ready to hurry up and start the rest of his life with his best friend.
He was able to keep his favorite clothes—they only had to buy one new wardrobe to store them all—and sell the rest. They’d found places for the paintings he’d wanted to keep in Hilliard’s house—their house. And he even managed to wheedle Hilliard into letting him keep the roadster (with a little boost from his magic, of course). Hilliard wandered through the house and picked out the sofa cushions and glassware that he liked best. They packed up all the other odds and ends that Monty couldn’t bear to be parted with.
The rest was sold.
It happened so quickly that it felt like no time at all.
While they waited to be assigned their next projects, they worked together to make the house a home for two. They cleared space on the walls for his paintings. They got rid of the bed in the spare bedroom to make room for Monty’s extra wardrobe. They added the sofa pillows to sofas and rearranged the glassware for the gold-rimmed ones that Hilliard had fancied. Monty added the crystal soda siphon and his favorite cocktail shaker to the bar cart. The fancy record player was given prime placement in the living room, along with Monty’s favorite records.
When all was said and done, Hilliard put a record on while Monty mixed them two Horse’s Necks (both a little heavy on the ginger ale), and they settled together on the sofa with Henrietta napping on their feet.
“Welcome home, sugar,” Hilliard said, kissing him.
“It’s good to be home,” Monty replied with a grin.
About a month later, they went to the premiere of When I’m In Your Arms together. Monty got ready in the second bedroom, taking three times longer than usual as he tried on multiple suits.
Hilliard leaned against the doorjamb and watched him fiddle with his cufflinks. “Montgomery,” he said gently, “you look fine. Relax.”
Monty frowned at him over his shoulder before returning to his task.
Hilliard sighed and stepped into the room. He placed his hands on Monty’s hips and spun him around. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Monty didn’t look up from his cufflinks even though they were already on. “I know.”
He felt Hilliard rub circles with his thumbs over Monty’s hips. “We made a good picture together. You didn’t need this one.”
That remained to be seen, although Monty didn’t say as much.
“There’ll be other pictures,” Hilliard continued. “You did what the studio asked of you. I’m sure they’ll give you more chances to shine.”
“I don’t need it anyway,” Monty said, with false cheer.
Hilliard cupped his cheeks and Monty met his gaze. “But you want it, the fame and the recognition. I don’t blame you. Most people who get into this business want that. If I thought that was wrong, I wouldn’t be here. And if anyone has a good chance of succeeding, it’s you.”
Monty smiled a little. “Because of my rakish good looks and magical charm?”
“No, because of your stubbornness.”
Monty huffed.
“And your talent. When our picture comes out, we’ll be able to show the world what you’re capable of.”
Monty searched his friend’s eyes, knowing that he’d find exactly what he was looking for: honesty and affection. He leaned forward and kissed him. Hilliard’s hands shifted from Monty’s cheeks to his hair as the kiss deepened.
After they broke off, Monty rested his forehead against Hilliard’s. “Maybe we can just skip the premiere,” he whispered.
“Nothing doing, sweetheart. You owe it to yourself, if nothing else.”
“And Jesse and Cal are our friends.”
