Chapter Five

Isthmus

 

“It’s good to be home,” said Izzy, sucking in a lungful of air as he stepped off the bus. Connley tapped his foot impatiently, still trapped behind Izzy. He was too busy taking in the view to rush.

Connley hadn’t stopped complaining during the last two hours of the journey, and it had almost been enough to push Izzy to his breaking point, all things aside. Connley was one hell of an actor—probably the best he knew—but sometimes he was a spoiled brat.

He was sure his ass wasn’t the only one that was numb. They’d all been sitting in the same type of seats. And they were all hungry. The last few days had been a whirlwind of travel, and it was always hard to keep on top of mealtimes during stints like that.

He ducked to the side, letting Connley past him and out into the crisp summer air. For once, it wasn’t humid, and the sun’s rays weren’t nearly as unbearable as some parts of the world this time of year.

Connley screwed up his face as he stretched his arms over his head. “You grew up here? Weird.” He turned to Izzy, letting out a chuckle at the glare sent his way. “I’m only kidding. It seems…nice.”

Sometimes Izzy had no idea when Connley was joking or not. The guy was just that good. That, and he had the sense of humor of a potato.

“It’s not weird. I know this whole city,” said Izzy, leaning against the side of the bus as the rest of the crew started to file off. He wasn’t going to admit that he was waiting for Rowes, but he’d thought Rowes was right behind him.

The hotel where they were staying was in the heart of downtown where skyscrapers roamed among the old brick buildings that give the city life. He remembered grabbing ice cream on the street corner as a kid and skateboarding along the rails at city hall. His childhood had been a fantastic blur of movement and people.

“Down that way is the park,” said Izzy, leaning up on his toes to try to get a peek at the trees. They were too far away for him to see a thing from the ground, but maybe he’d luck out with the hotel. “And on the other side of town there’s an industrial area that always smells like fresh-baked bread or burnt tires.”

That bread factory had been there since Izzy had been young, and he could still remember guessing what batch they were making when he’d driven by with his parents. When they messed up a batch, the whole block knew.

“And that way…” Izzy faltered as Rowes stepped off the bus, dropping his hand to his side. He hadn’t been to that side of town in a long time, and from what he’d heard, it wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“What?” asked Connley, apparently oblivious to Izzy’s struggle.

Pointedly keeping his eyes off Rowes, Izzy looked to where he’d been pointing. “Nothing. Just a club. I just remembered it’s not there anymore.”

Connley kicked his heel against the pavement. “Too bad. I could use one hell of a drink after that ride. It’s a good thing that this is the last stop, and we can get back to filming. I’m starting to dissociate.”

It would have been funny if Connley had been joking. He had the strange habit of slipping in and out of character amid conversation. The first time it had happened and Connley had taken on an English accent, Izzy had been worried for his mental health. Now it was second nature.

“Yeah, me, too…” Izzy trailed off before glancing to Rowes. He was standing next to the bus and looking at the hotel with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. To an outsider he probably looked relaxed, but Izzy knew better.

’Cause I fucked up. Shaking his head, Izzy grabbed for his bag and slung Rowes’ over his opposite side when he spotted it. They settled heavily against him, the straps digging into his shoulders. He didn’t care how tense things were between them at the moment, he was determined to fix everything.

The first part of that was rooming together again.

If I wouldn’t have watched those fucking videos… Every time he looked at Rowes now, all he could do was analyze him. Was he feeling more than Izzy was? Was that the light catching his eyes, or did he detect a hint of longing? His lips looked soft, glistening with the balm he always used. It smelled like honey, but did it taste like that?

Fuck. He’d never dealt with something like this before. When he wanted someone, he went out and got them—as long as they were consenting, of course. He’d never come up against a brick wall with someone he was not allowed to have.

They’d stopped sleeping in each other’s beds the first night after the incident. Rowes had suddenly sat up before crossing the room to his own bed. Izzy had laid awake all night, listening to the sound of soft breathing and fighting back tears as he longed for his best friend. Rowes wasn’t the only one who needed touch.

At the next stop, Rowes had insisted on his own room, claiming that he didn’t want to keep Izzy up with his snoring. Lorena had been all too happy to book the extra one, even going so far as to offer Rowes a pat on the back.

The thing was, Izzy couldn’t sleep a wink. He needed that noise and the sound of Rowes’ rasping breaths to get him through. And he fucking missed his friend. He’d never been so stressed or lonely before.

After sitting apart on the bus, Izzy was desperate to get his best friend back by any means necessary. His crazy-ass plan was probably the worst idea he’d ever had, but he’d had too many sleepless nights flipping through his phone and wondering.

“Rowes, you’re with me. I booked us the presidential suite,” said Izzy, supporting the straps of the bags with his hands so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was afraid to touch Rowes, but Rowes seemed almost grateful about it.

“Thank Christ,” mumbled Connley. “I thought you were going to be in the doghouse forever. The angst was starting to turn me gray.” Connley pushed past them, grabbing his own pinstripe bag and lugging it into the hotel. Even if he did go gray, his light blond hair would never show it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Izzy, shouting after Connley. He turned to Rowes when he didn’t get an answer. “Do you know?”

Rowes only shrugged, because apparently they weren’t on speaking terms, either.

Fucking hell. If he was going to go through with his plan, he was doing it tonight. It was only about two in the afternoon, so he had a solid few hours of power napping before he had to do anything. That would hopefully put things into perspective.

Lorena checked in for them, getting their keys in record time. The smell of chlorine was powerful as they waited in the lobby, but for Izzy, it wasn’t as comforting as usual. Hotels were supposed to be fun, but he was just so tired that it barely mattered.

“You okay with the suite?” asked Izzy, desperate for Rowes to say anything. The shrug of a reply only made him bite his tongue, more frustrated than he could put into words. “Well, come on, then.”

Doubling the bags up on one shoulder, he reached for Rowes, throwing his arm around him and pulling him close. His shoulder ached from the strain of too much weight on one side as it pulled him off balance. Another curse of being on the road too long meant he had little time for keeping fit. He was turning into a car potato.

Breath going out in a whoosh, Rowes glanced at him in confusion before immediately looking around as if he expected Lorena or someone with a camera to be standing right next to them. There were a few actually, speckled on the exterior of the hotel behind a small black rope. They could see straight into the hotel’s glass windows if they cared to look.

Look all you want. They weren’t doing anything wrong.

Gunlover was getting a lot of hype in the media, and the fans had been flocking alongside them for their entire press tour. A few fan meets had been absolutely insane.

“Worried we’ll get caught?” Izzy asked softly, lowering his head to speak into Rowes’ ear. Rowes shot him a glare, his lips pressed into a thin line. There were dark shadows under his eyes, so he’d probably slept even worse than Izzy. It was strange to sleep in silence when you were so used to someone breathing beside you, even if that someone was in a different bed.

“Caught with what?” asked Rowes as he scowled. “With my hands on your ass? Or are you worried someone might find the little bag of weed in your suitcase that you think I don’t know about?”

Even as he said it, Rowes moved his hand around Izzy’s hip, settling low on the waistband of his sagging jeans. His palms were warm enough that Izzy could feel them through the fabric, Rowes’ grip unsteady. He wasn’t speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, but Ainslie snickered next to them, shooting them a smile.

“That weed is for you,” said Izzy softly, forcing a smile on his lips as he blinked toward the muted flash of a camera. He could already imagine the headlines, and he couldn’t care less. Rowes was touching him. Finally. “There’s a hell of a thunderstorm coming, and I know those always give you migraines.”

“Oh.” Rowes dropped his gaze, something flitting over his face before it was gone. “Sorry.” He shifted his feet, feeling so close to pulling away. Izzy squeezed him tighter, ignoring his bag as it slid from his shoulder to the nook of his elbow.

“Don’t be,” said Izzy. Fuck, I’m doing this all wrong. All he wanted was a straight-up conversation with his best friend, but he could barely focus. “Let’s talk in the room. I hate what’s happened these last few weeks, and I want to put it behind us.” A camera flashed to the side and Izzy made sure to turn his head, shooting the fan a little peace sign before shrugging as the second bag tried to slip down his shoulder. “Also, what do you have in this bag? It weighs a ton.”

Biting his lip, Rowes looked away, flinching as Ainslie let out a little laugh at something Connley said. The two had their heads together, giggling over something Connley had said. “I bought you kombucha.”

Izzy’s chest gave a pang. Maybe things weren’t so hopeless after all. He loved kombucha, but Rowes absolutely detested the stuff and went so far as to turn his nose up at even trying the new varieties Izzy would buy. He must’ve been feeling the tension between them too if he had gone out of his way to buy it.

“Your room key, boys,” said Lorena, passing them each a small paper packet with a white card within. “It’s 4604. I’m surprised you guys are going splits on the room again. I thought that Rowes was enjoying having his downtime alone.”

Izzy stiffened. It was hard to get a good read on Rowes, but he looked almost guilty? Shit. Maybe he’d been wrong all along.

Rowes dropped his arm from around Izzy’s waist, clutching his key with both hands. “Come on, Izzy. I’m tired.”

As soon as they were through the room door, Rowes grabbed his bag from Izzy’s shoulder and stepped away, peering through the room as if he actually fucking cared what it looked like. Jacuzzi, fireplace, same old, same old. Once he’d started staying in hotels frequently, Izzy had stopped caring about the way the fancy ones looked, with posh decorations and outrageous armchairs. Honestly, the menu was usually the highlight for him.

“Oh, a minibar,” said Rowes, his voice flat as he opened the little cupboard below the television that had looked like a dresser drawer.

Now that was just sad. There had been a minibar in literally every other room they’d stayed in during the tour. It didn’t matter that this one seemed to have some pretty top-shelf stuff. Any other time they could have indulged, but not today.

“Too bad we won’t be drinking from it,” said Izzy, tossing his bag on the ground and falling back on the nearest queen bed. He sank into the duvet, the scent of clean laundry enveloping him. Hotels always seemed to have the same citrus scent to their sheets, no matter where they were in the world.

“No?” asked Rowes as he ducked down, grasping one of the liquor bottles and twirling it around to read the label.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Come here, Rowes,” said Izzy, patting the bed and sitting up. Rowes looked to him, biting his lip before he slowly complied, the liquor bottle still clutched in his hand like a lifeline. His lips were so pink, like he’d been biting them during the whole bus ride. They still looked soft…soft enough to kiss.

Forget about it. If only he could. But he wasn’t going to let his friendship burn because of what a few people had to say on the internet.

“I’m sorry,” said Izzy, taking a breath of Rowes’ scent as he neared. Rowes was still tense, but he let out a little sigh, leaning his head against Izzy’s chest. “I should have listened to you before, but I took other’s opinions too seriously and started second-guessing what’s between us.”

Rowes went tighter against him, his spine rigid. The trembling that racked his frame set Izzy on edge. He needed to do something—anything—to make it better.

“I just kept wondering if I was getting in the way of something for you,” said Izzy, squeezing him even tighter. “Or maybe I wondered if I should feel differently. But I know you’re my best friend, and I want you with me for the rest of my life, show or no show. I feel like watching those videos ruined what we had, making me deny everything I believed about us.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Izzy fought not to pull away. He wanted to run, hide and bury his head under the sand to avoid anyone who looked at them like that again. At the same time, he never wanted Rowes away from his side, and he would fight to make sure that happened.

“You’re still my best friend,” said Rowes, his voice just as shaky as Izzy’s. “But you’re right. Things are different, and I don’t know how to fix them.”

Enter the infallible plan…

“I think I might,” said Izzy, gritting his teeth. It was such a terrible idea that he’d thought of hours into a sleepless night. But once it had come to mind, there was no denying it.

Rowes pulled away, twisting in Izzy’s arms with wide eyes. “You aren’t going to kiss me, are you?”

Was it terrible that Rowes’ mind had gone there first? Izzy couldn’t help but flicker his gaze to Rowes’ lips and wonder how soft they were.

“That wasn’t the plan, but I can if that’s what you need.” That had been the first plan that he’d rejected after two moments of rational thought. He’d been thinking that they could try a kiss, then when they felt nothing, they could go back to normal.

Only, there was a one percent chance—or less—that Izzy might actually like kissing Rowes. Then everything would be fucked. Rowes was beautiful, sweet and charismatic, so a good kisser would probably go right along with that.

The second plan was so much better…and worse.

“I want to take you to a club,” said Izzy, running his hand through his hair. “A kink club.”

He could hear Rowes swallow in the sudden quiet, his heart racing. It had sounded so much better in his head.

“It was that first video—the D/s one—that really started whatever it is between us, and I thought that if you saw what really went on in a kink club and how Doms and subs acted with each other, it would put your mind at rest. It’s really nothing like what we have—like this.”

He squeezed Rowes tighter before lacing their fingers together. They fit perfectly—they always had. It was just so fucking infuriating that he was questioning anything about them.

Izzy needed to see the club again, too, just to make sure. He was starting to wonder about a few things. Maybe there was a reason he’d stuck mostly to one-night stands, and maybe it had nothing to do with his crazy schedule and dollop of fame.

“Besides, kink isn’t about sex,” said Izzy. Of everything, that was one thing he was completely certain of. He’d seen completely non-sexual couples go through intense scenes without any arousal whatsoever.

Rowes spluttered, snorting with laughter as he tugged free of Izzy’s arms and stood. He rounded on Izzy, his face bright red and his eyes shiny. “You have got to be joking me. You think a kink club is going to fix our friendship?”

Well, it sounds silly if you put it that way.

“Yes?” Izzy scratched his chin, trying to figure out where he’d gotten the idea from in the first place. He had been a little low on sleep lately, and the stress of constant traveling had been taking its toll. That, and not having someone to bounce ideas off of was messing with his head.

“It will be confidential, with waivers and everything, and no pictures allowed, so we don’t have to worry about the press.” Izzy listed off the few things that had come to mind right away. It had been a long time since he’d been anywhere near the community, but he remembered them being a trustworthy group…for the most part.

Rowes shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand, and he started to laugh in what looked like disbelief. “We barely talk for days, and instead of counseling, you want to dive into BDSM. We are so fucking doomed.”

He’s probably right.