“Uh, we’re going to be eating a lot of pizza?” Jeremy asked.
“Yes!” Reg bobbed his head. “It’s like you’re reading my mind now.” He was quiet for a beat, and then he dropped the dazed expression and laughed. “Kidding, man, but seriously, aces on the pizza. I was worried you were going to say you liked pineapples with Canadian bacon when everyone knows the only time you can put pineapple on pizza is if you add—”
“Jalapeños,” they said simultaneously.
“Wow,” Reg hissed. “We are the best pretend couple ever. I think we’re going to get pretend married and have two pretend children and a pretend dog named Rover.”
“Rover?”
“Definitely.”
“Great. We can let Bill know now so he can plan for it. You ready to meet him?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
THE MEETING with Bill had ended up lasting only long enough for names to be exchanged. Then Bill had taken Jeremy somewhere to discuss some allegedly major issue related to the tour and left Reg with a man he introduced as Francis, one of Jeremy’s publicists. Without so much as looking at Reg, the publicist had opened his laptop and started asking questions.
“Tell me what I need to know,” Francis said.
“Sure.” Reg paused. “What does that mean?”
Flicking his gaze toward Reg, he said, “Anything that can come up in an interview and blindside Jeremy or end up on TMZ or the front page of People.” He refocused on his computer, fingers at the ready. “Basically, anything the press might find out about your past.”
His past had consisted of being a decent athlete, a more than decent student, a stressed-out accountant, and, most recently, a pretty happy bartender. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I have no doubt,” Francis said snidely. “But that’s not what I’m asking.” He looked at Reg and started counting things off on his fingers. “Criminal record that didn’t come up on our background check?”
“You did a background check on me?” Reg asked incredulously.
“This isn’t amateur hour. You think we’d let you go on the road with our biggest client without running a background check?”
“No, I guess not. I don’t have a criminal record.”
“What about anything else?” He held up another finger. “Owe people money?”
Reg shook his head.
“Some ex-girlfriend going to pop out of the woodwork and claim you fathered her kid or beat her up?” Two fingers went up in short order.
“Ex-boyfriend and fuck no!”
“Boyfriend?” Francis said. “Really?”
“Yes. Why is that a surprise?”
Looking away from Reg, Francis started typing. “I didn’t figure you for gay.”
“I’m sitting here being interrogated because I’m dating your biggest client, remember?” Reg reminded him. “You do realize Jeremy Jameson has a dick, right?”
“Very funny,” Francis said without a single indication in his tone or expression that he found that comment or anything else humorous. “All I’m saying is you don’t look gay.”
“Dude, you would so not say that if you had a camera in my bedroom.”
The sound of someone snorting had both of them jerking their heads toward the office door, where Jeremy’s manager was standing.
“Why are you laughing, Bill?”
“Because your comment was stupid, and Reggie is funny.” He ambled over to his desk, started typing on his computer, and said, “You can take off, Francis. I’ve got this.”
Without an argument or a good-bye, Francis got up and walked out of the office. After a few seconds, Bill went over to the door, closed and locked it, and then leaned against it, staring at Reg.
“So.” Bill’s expression suddenly turned sultry. “Reggie.”
Being hit on by Jeremy’s manager was so far outside of Reg’s expectations, it took him longer than usual to realize it was happening.
“I can see why Jeremy’s so taken by you.” He strutted over to Reg’s chair. “Even with this shirt on”—he reached forward and slowly dragged his finger down Reg’s chest—“your muscles are evident. Big.” He looked Reg in the eyes. “Are you big everywhere?” Dropping to his knees, he cupped Reg’s cock through his pants. “I bet you are.”
“Dude! What the fuck?” Reg scrambled backward, trying to squeeze out of his seat without knocking Bill on his ass.
“Relax.” Bill leaned down, his mouth inches from Reg’s dick. “I just want to have a little fun.”
“Look, man, I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not interested. You move fucking now, or I’ll make you move.”
Slowly rising to his feet, Bill pointed to Reg’s groin. “That says you’re interested.”
The second he had space to get out of his seat, Reg jumped up and backed away. “The only thing a hard dick says is I’m human. A good-looking guy gets on his knees and practically mouths my cock, and I’m going to spring wood. Doesn’t mean I’m interested.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have a boyfriend!” Reg was starting to understand why Jeremy was so desperate to have him around. Everyone else in the man’s life was insane.
“Jeremy Jameson is your boyfriend?”