Illegal Contact (The Barons 1)

“Joe doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Gavin said, voice rising with each word. “He doesn’t know a fucking thing about us.”

“He knows you can’t come out,” I said. “He knows being openly bisexual could ruin your career if the Barons aren’t supportive. And he knows that, beyond all that, this could just be cabin fever for you. I’m the only person you see most of the time, Gavin.”

At that, his expression turned thunderous and it was him leaping off the sofa. “Don’t do that to me.”

“What?”

“Don’t be like everyone else—treating me like some dumbass who doesn’t know what he wants or how he feels unless someone else is filling in the blanks.”

I stood, holding up my hands. “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying,” he said. “You’re saying the only reason I want you in my bed is because there’s no one else here to fill it. Or that being isolated has got me tripping and lonely, and that’s the only reason I want you.”

“But how do you know that’s not the case?” I demanded. “How do you know you’ll feel the same way once you’re out on the road again, or practicing, or going out and having people throw themselves at you? Maybe you’ll realize your life is much bigger than mine, and I’m just a normal guy who doesn’t fit into your world.”

Gavin’s face grew taut, suspicion in his eyes and glimmers of hurt shining through. “This isn’t even Joe right now, is it? It’s you. He may have put the idea in your head, but you wouldn’t be latching on this fast if there wasn’t something to it on your end.”

“That’s not true. Or at least . . .” A roar from the television flooded the house, and I cringed. I shouldn’t have done this now, but it was too late to go back and undo the conversation. Especially with him towering over me with his hands white-knuckling and his body brimming with tension. “I’ve been just as isolated as you, and I’ve been on another planet for the past couple of months, but that’s changing soon. And I need to stop forgetting that and think realistically.”

“So you and me together isn’t realistic.”

It wasn’t. It was surreal. A fantasy. A dream.

But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Not when those golden eyes were boring into me like twin lasers, and when emotion was clawing at my throat to prevent me from getting out anything coherent at all.

I closed the distance between us and put my hands on his shoulders, digging in tight. “Tell me what you want to do.”

“I don’t want you to disappear from my life once this ends,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. As a friend, a fucking confidante, and everything else.”

“And I feel the same way,” I insisted, jerking him closer. “If you think it’s realistic, then you tell me how we can make it work. And I am fucking here for it, Gavin. One hundred percent. But you have to tell me how we can handle your career, and the cold hard truth that people finding out about us, which is inevitable, has the chance of ruining things for you.”

Gavin shook his head and tried to pull away, but I jerked him closer. So close our foreheads pressed together and his eyes were inches from my own.

“Tell me, if that happened,” I said urgently, “if you lose the only thing you’ve ever loved, the thing that’s held you together for all these years, that you wouldn’t resent me. You wouldn’t resent our relationship. You wouldn’t have enough regrets to fill this big, empty mansion. Tell me all of that, and then we can talk about a future together being realistic.”

Gavin closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

“Can you tell me that, Gavin?”

His hands came up to grip my forearms, firm and then tighter, until a glimmer of gold was visible beneath his eyelashes again.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t tell you that.”

I’d expected it, and it still packed a punch so hard that it was hard to breathe. He seemed to sense it because he held me tighter against him. When my eyes grew damp, I squeezed them shut the way he’d just done, and he kissed my lids.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “This hurts.”

He nodded, burying his face in the crook of my neck, and held me as cheers from the game filled the house.

Chapter Seventeen

Gavin

Noah was beautiful in his sadness.

I sat on the edge of his bed, watching him pack. Even though he was leaving, and I wanted to be angry, I was just as taken with him now as I’d been the first morning he’d walked into Joe’s office. Only this time, I didn’t hide my entrancement with a glare. I openly admired his large, round eyes, his long, dark lashes, wide mouth, and his long, lean limbs. I watched as his fingers carefully folded each article of clothing, and wondered whether anyone else had ever noticed that he should have been playing the piano as a kid.