Chapter Six

Tuesday had been hell. Wednesday had sucked slightly less, and as he had predicted, Mikey had passed all menial and disgusting tasks on to him to complete. He had no idea what the kids, or the staff for that matter, got up to in the locker rooms, but he had scrubbed and mopped and cleaned only for it to be a pointless exercise. The next day, it was right back how it had started, possibly worse. Outdoor activities and mud and sand should be banned, and if he had to pull another twelve inch long gooey clump of hair from the shower plug, he may just loose his lunch.

Thursday, somehow, had been easier, though Eric had returned to his parents’ home just as tired and dirty as the previous days. He had also had what he would forever claim to be the largest headache ever. And Friday? Friday was going surprisingly well. So far.

“That’s it, guys!” Eric shouted encouragingly up the track and felt a strange sense of pride as he watched the four teens sprint toward him. He held the digital tablet steady in his hand as he readied himself to record the boys’ individual times. Competitiveness and determination drove the youths as they headed toward the finish line where Eric waited. He wasn’t sure what it was that had him feeling so great. It wasn’t like him spending a couple of hours with these kids for the last three days would have made any significant difference to their athletic ability. He just liked to think he’d had some small part to play in Sonny shaving four hundredths of a second off his personal best in the last race.

The boys completed the two hundred meters and Eric tapped the screen, recording each boy’s time.

“Well done,” he said as the group caught their breath. He hovered on the edge of them, waiting as they settled down with their sports bottles and had a drink. This was the first time he had been left in charge of them. Mikey had disappeared inside following the first race, entrusting Eric with the role of responsible adult. He didn’t want to come across as some useless jerk. Doing his best to sound confident and positive of the boys’ performances, Eric read out the times. “Okay, so times. Sonny, twenty-five point eight two, Harry, twenty-six point five six, Simon, twenty-six point seven seven, and Keegan, twenty-eight point zero three.” Another PB broken, this time by the slowest of the group, Keegan. He contemplated making some kind of joke, but decided against it. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d pull it off and could imagine the awkward silence that he’d be greeted with.

“Well done, guys,” CJ said from behind Eric.

Thank God he hadn’t tried his hand at stand up. Eric glanced over his shoulder. In the late afternoon light—CJ looked amazing. Shit. He had to get a grip on his emotions and attraction to the guy. It was never going to happen and that was probably for the best.

“Time to head inside. You have five minutes before your folks arrive,” CJ said and nodded toward the back of the center.

Eric glanced at the tablet. When the hell had it gotten after five? “Sorry,” he said. “I hadn’t realized the time. Mikey said it was okay to do another race.”

“No, it’s fine. Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess.” He met Eric’s eyes and there was something like pride in them. “You are having fun, right?”

Eric hesitated. “Erm, can I be honest?”

CJ straightened up. “Okay,” he said and narrowed his eyes.

“At first, I hated it. Not like in a bad way.” CJ quirked an eyebrow. So Eric may have just contradicted himself, but he knew what he meant. “I mean, okay, so…kids and sports and hard work aren’t exactly my thing—”

“You mean acting isn’t as hard as us mere mortals think it is?” CJ interrupted. There was a lightness in his voice and Eric relaxed. He hadn’t offended CJ.

Laughing, Eric said, “I guess it is hard. Long days and lines and marks to remember. Emotional scenes and stunts and takes and retakes.” He paused. “It’s not this place I hate. It’s the fact I’m here at all.”

“Why are you here?” CJ asked.

“Honestly, my agent and my PA decided it’d be good for me.” Was he right to assume CJ knew all about LA and the last two months? “I screwed up. I keep screwing up.” He looked at CJ, hoping CJ would understand the extra meaning behind the confession. He still considered leaving Oakland Falls and CJ his biggest mistake.

CJ tensed his jaw. The hidden meaning had not been lost on him. “You said you hated it at first?” CJ steered the conversation.

Eric nodded and hugged the tablet to his chest. “Sure, when my two weeks are up I won’t miss mopping muddy floors and wiping toilet seats, but I guess I understand why this place is important to you and the kids.”

CJ didn’t say anything, but his eyes held questions.

“It’s somewhere they can go and be themselves and do things they love.” He smiled at CJ. “It’s safe.” Safe from all the crap out there in the real world, from prying eyes and poisonous tongues and from his own stupidity. Eric cleared his throat and looked beyond the track to the center’s small field. No trees to hide in here. “Sorry.” He was letting emotions get the better of him. Organizing himself a pity party had never been his intention.

At first, CJ didn’t say anything, and simply stood beside Eric and joined him in examining the open space. But then he said something unexpected. “Do you want to go for a drink?”

A drink? Was this some kind of cruel joke? God he’d kill for an ice cold beer right about now. “What did you have in mind?” Did that sound presumptuous? It wasn’t supposed to. He just meant…

“Exactly what I said, a drink. All the kids will be gone in another hour, it’s Friday night and we usually grab a couple of drinks before heading home.”

We. He had said we. Eric gave a slow nod. Friday’s staff included Mikey, Sharny, Aimee, Dex and—“Will Jodie be there?”

CJ laughed. “Are you scared of her?”

Hell, yes. “No.”

Shaking his head, CJ said, “No. She’s got other plans this evening. So you don’t have to worry. You can come along and maybe even enjoy yourself.” He patted Eric on his shoulder. “I think you earned it.”

His feet hurt. His head hurt. Damn right he’d earned it. “Okay,” Eric said. His body warmed beneath CJ’s touch.

CJ’s mouth curved into a smile and he lowered his hand. “Bring Marcus.”

Marcus had done very little other than stand around pointing. His favorite phrase had become “You missed a bit”—followed in a close second place with—“That’s not how Mikey does it.”

“I’ll ask him,” Eric agreed.

“Great,” CJ said. “You coming in?”

Eric liked being outside and even more so now it was empty of children and everyone else. “In a minute.” He needed a moment to himself before heading back into the swirl of noise and activity. He met CJ’s eyes and it was like a flurry of emotion hit him. How could CJ even stand to be near him after what he’d done? He had broken the man’s heart.

Averting his eyes, CJ let out a sigh. Maybe he had felt something too. “Okay. I’ll see you inside. No rush.”

And there it was again, the mixture of feelings and heat in Eric’s chest as he watched CJ walk away—attraction, guilt, home and hurt. Being here was as confusing as fuck.

* * * *

“You agreed to a drink? In a bar? With him?” Marcus crammed his hands in his pockets as he walked beside Eric several feet behind CJ and his staff. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

Eric sighed and buried his chin beneath the high collar of his jacket. “That’s why you’re here,” he mumbled from beneath the material and shot Marcus a sideways glance. “I’ll order a soda or juice or something. Bars sell those too, you know?”

A low sound rumbled up from Marcus’s chest. Did he just growl?

“What did you want me to say? He asked us to join them for a drink.”

“It begins with N and ends in O,” Marcus pointed out. “You could have made something up. You’re an actor and a pretty decent one when you want to be.”

Going to the bar meant more to Eric than alcohol and bar snacks. CJ had invited them and it kind of felt good. Like acceptance. Like he belonged. How could he have turned that down? LA was great for just one thing, losing himself. He’d never truly fit in, had no real friends and had gotten sucked into the dark side of fame. Maybe if he had gone there under different circumstances then things could have been so very different for him. But all the crap he had taken with him had seeped into his soul and skewed his success into something wicked.

Marcus bristled beside him and Eric didn’t have the energy to explain himself. He just wanted to enjoy the hour.

“The Parrot’s Head,” Marcus said, reading the sign on the front of the building CJ and the others had swerved into.

Eric remembered the bar. He and CJ, eighteen years old and armed with fake IDs. The man behind the bar had taken their order, smiled then placed two large glasses of lemonade in front on them. That was the problem in this town, everybody knew everybody.

Keeping his head lowered, Eric followed the group into the bar. News of his return had slowly spread throughout the town and yet it had barely made a ripple. It was kind of refreshing to be surrounded by people who didn’t give a damn about any of the movies he’d been in or who cared about grabbing themselves a photo or an autograph. A few of the children at the center had taken an interest, whispered among themselves, but then treated him like any other staff member. He was Mr Fox to some, Eric to the rest, and to all of them just one more grown up working at the Grove.

“What can I get you?” CJ asked as they grouped together at the bar.

Vodka. “Orange juice, please.”

“You sure?”

Eric instinctively moved toward Marcus, pressing their shoulders together as he sought support.

“Make that two,” Marcus interjected. “Ice in mine.” The statement sounded final and CJ didn’t press further.

“Thanks,” Eric said and turned to lean back against the bar. Despite all the sharp edges and constant nagging, Marcus always had his back, and always knew exactly what he needed. He was kind of glad he didn’t find Marcus attractive, or he was sure he’d have fucked up their relationship a long time ago.

Marcus simply smiled and came to stand beside him. The feel of Marcus, solid and warm against him comforted Eric and confidence swelled inside him. He could do this, be normal, have a drink and socialize. Easy. Right?

“Here you go,” CJ said and handed Marcus the two classes of orange juice. “The others went round the corner to grab a table.” He indicated across the bar. “We’ll come join you in a minute.”

Eric considered CJ and Mikey and a twinge of jealousy sparked in his chest. “Sure,” he said and took his drink from Marcus. He had no right to feel jealous or anything else where CJ was concerned. He was left to watch as CJ turned his back on him and started up a conversation with Mikey. No right at all.

“Come on,” Marcus said and kneed Eric’s leg. “Let’s find a seat.”

“Yeah,” Eric said. He forced himself to look away and down at his glass. Orange juice wasn’t going to be enough. He needed a real drink.

“Right. I should head off,” Mikey said and got to his feet. Sharny, Aimee and Dex had left twenty minutes ago.

“Already? It’s only…” CJ tilted his head as he stared at his watch. “Oh.” He shrugged. “One more. Not like you have to get up tomorrow, is it?”

Mikey laughed and pushed his chair under the table. “Nice try, but you know I do.” He turned to Eric. “Driving to Seattle for an interview. On a Saturday too. I was looking forward to sleeping in.” Grabbing his wallet off the table, he then thumbed through the bills inside. “Here. Get yourselves another drink.”

“Are you okay to drive?” Marcus asked.

Mikey grinned. “Nope, which is why I’m walking home and collecting my car in the morning.”

“Honestly?” Marcus checked.

Nodding, Mikey pointed at CJ. “One sniff of alcohol over the limit and he’ll take your keys off you unless you promise not to drive.” He looked at CJ, who in turn appeared uncomfortable. “He has a thing about driving. No cell phones, nothing, blah, blah, blah. Hands on the wheel at all times.”

CJ sighed and picked up his beer, distracting himself with the label.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Eric briefly met CJ’s eyes.

“I just want you to be careful. There are enough dangerous idiots out there without adding a drunk you into the mix.”

“Uh-huh,” Marcus said and pressed his mouth in a line. “Tell you what, give me your keys, I’ll drive you home.”

“What?” Eric and Mikey said in unison. Marcus couldn’t leave.

“You’re like a block over from Eric’s parents, right?”

Mikey nodded.

“I can walk that. Plus it’ll save you some time in the morning. You can have at least twenty extra minutes in bed.”

Wait. What? Marcus hadn’t even finished his—

Eric watched as Marcus downed the half-glass of orange juice and got to his feet. “Here,” he said and handed Eric the keys to the rental. “You okay driving?”

“Yeah, but…” The keys felt heavy in his hand. He hadn’t driven in a couple of months. Always too wasted. “Do you even know the way to Mom and Dad’s?”

“Sure.” Marcus paused and considered it. “Sure,” he said again. “Besides, I have my cell. I’ll call if I start walking in circles.” Pulling on his jacket, he joined Mikey behind his chair. “Finish your drinks. We’ll be fine. Won’t we?” He beamed at Mikey.

“Yeah. Whatever,” Mikey uttered and scratched a hand through his hair. “Night.”

“Good luck tomorrow,” CJ said and gave him a warm smile.

“Cheers.” Mikey gave a tired wave before heading toward the exit.

“I’ll see you at home,” Marcus said and looked between the two of them. “Take your time.” And with that he followed after Mikey.

CJ snorted a laugh. “Subtle,” he said and shifted his gaze from the bottle to Eric. The amused expression on his face left Eric relieved.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. Marcus should have known better.

Shrugging, CJ sat back in his seat. “It’s okay. He seems to really care about you.”

Eric rested his head in his hand. Marcus did care and not just because he was paid to. “He does. It’s his job,” he said, trying and failing to add a hint of humor to his voice.

“I think it’s more than that,” CJ said and smiled. “He seems genuine.”

Genuine was a good word for Marcus. He didn’t pretend or lie or keep things from Eric. He was honest and upfront to a fault and most of the time Eric needed that. There was no point wrapping his mistakes up in bows and looking at them through rose-tinted glasses. No, if Eric fucked up, Marcus told him. It had just taken Eric a long time to realize how much of a mess he was in.

“I guess. He’s a good friend and happy to kick my ass when I need it.”

“So, just friends?” CJ asked.

Him and Marcus—what a scary image. “Yeah.” He looked at CJ. He was damned curious to ask. What the hell, right? “Mikey seems great. Are you and him…?”

CJ laughed. “God, no. Mikey isn’t… He’s not gay.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought maybe…”

“No. It’s fine. But, no. Definitely not.” Smiling, CJ picked up his beer and took a long drink.

Attraction reared in Eric’s chest. So, if not Mikey…? “Do you have a boyfriend at the moment?” Where Eric enjoyed sex with both men and women, CJ had only ever been interested in men.

CJ shook his head and lowered his bottle to the table. A strange sadness seemed to envelop him as he shied away from Eric’s gaze. “Not right now. A few dates here and there, but nothing serious.” He eventually seemed to find the strength to look at Eric. “You?”

Maybe if Eric had been in a relationship, he wouldn’t have gotten himself in the state he had done in LA. “No.” He wondered what CJ knew about him. Had he read about the one night stands and the threesomes? Did he know about Eric’s issues with drink? Was his so-called suicide attempt something CJ knew or even cared about?

“It must be hard to find someone out in LA. Celebrity couples never seem to end all that well, right? And anyone else, I guess you must wonder if they’re just with you for the fame and money?” There was no clue either way as to what CJ may or may not have heard.

“Money complicates things,” Eric agreed.

CJ shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” he said and drained his beer. “Anyway, it’s getting late. I should probably go.”

“Would you like a ride?” Eric said more quickly than he had intended.

CJ twisted his empty bottle in his hand and considered the offer. Obviously, he came to the conclusion there was no harm in it as he finally accepted the invitation. “Sure,” he said and pushed his bottle onto the table. “What time are you in tomorrow?”

Finishing his drink, Eric got to his feet. “In the afternoon. Two ‘til seven.”

“Oh, yeah. Part-timer,” CJ joked. “Well, me and Jodes are in most of the day tomorrow. Plus you’ll get to meet the rest of the team.”

From what Eric could figure, along with CJ and Jodie there were six other staff that worked on and off through the week. Mikey and Sharny were the most frequent employees, with four others working shifts here and there as a second job.

“Okay.” He waited for CJ to join him on his feet. “I can’t believe it’s the weekend already.” He had seriously expected the last few days were going to drag like no others. But he had been pleasantly surprised at how quickly the days had gone by. His two weeks would be up before he knew it.

“I know the feeling,” CJ said as he pulled on his jacket. “I can’t believe this week has been and gone already.”

“Feels like just yesterday it was us on Spring break,” Eric said without thinking. He met CJ’s eyes and the room seemed to close in on him. Shit. Was it really almost seven years to the day since the last time they had seen each other? Spring break was followed by the dance and that in turn had been followed by seven years of hell. “Sorry. I didn’t…”

CJ’s eyes darkened as he ran a hand back through the curls of his hair. Eric didn’t mean to stare and quickly regretted it.

“I have to go,” CJ said. His words were rushed as he stepped back and lowered his head, hiding the scar.

Such an idiot. “You still want that ride?” Eric already guessed what CJ’s answer would be, so wasn’t surprised when CJ turned him down. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Something flashed in CJ’s eyes and just as quickly vanished. Eric feared for a brief moment CJ was going to tell him to not bother coming in tomorrow or any other day, but instead, he said nothing, turning on his heel as he headed for the exit.

Eric considered what to do as he watched CJ head past the bar. He couldn’t let him just walk away. Shit. Quickly, he made his way through the crowd and to the exit, catching CJ by the elbow as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Wait, please.”

CJ turned and looked directly into his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with angry color as he snatched his arm from Eric’s hold. “Not now, Eric. Not now.”

They needed to talk about this. It had been hanging around them for the last few days, both acting like the past didn’t matter or it didn’t happen.

“Please,” Eric said. The ache in his gut tightened and he curled his hands into fists to distract him from the hurt. “Please.” He just wanted a chance. He wanted to say sorry. And most of all, he wanted CJ to forgive him.

CJ opened his mouth to say something, but sharply turned his head as a flash of light distracted him.

What the hell?

“Eric. Eric. Over here. Eric. What’s it like being home? Eric. Have you been drinking? Eric. Is this your new guy? Eric. Eric. Look this way.” Voices jumbled and talked over each other, and Eric was disorientated by a series of bright flashes.

Shading his eyes, he scanned desperately around for CJ. Among the cameras and people, he eventually found him. The look of horror on CJ’s face as he was steered toward the wall of the building cut at him like a knife.

I am so sorry.

He had just wanted to talk. He had just wanted to make everything okay. More photographs were taken and Eric made a decision. Holding his hand toward the camera lenses, he pushed through the crowd and grabbed CJ by the wrist. It was like a scene in a movie and he half-imagined himself saying heroically, “Come with me if you want to live.” The Terminator—he loved that movie. Heroically, he took his Sarah Connor by the hand, pulling CJ to safety.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eric said firmly and pulled CJ with him as he started to run. A warmth spread up Eric’s arm as CJ tightened his hold on his hand and ran with him. All Eric wanted to do was wrap his arms around CJ, protecting him from the crap that had followed him from LA, and tell him how sorry he was for everything. How very fucking sorry.