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CHAPTER TWO

Kane

I stared at the email in my inbox, scrolling the screen up and down in the hope the email’s contents would magically make their way into my brain without me having to read it. I’d been doing that for the last twenty minutes and it hadn’t worked yet, but there was still time. It wasn’t like I was planning on doing anything more than walking between my kitchen and my sofa for the rest of the afternoon.

I could be patient.

Only I wasn’t.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself as I tapped out of my inbox and pulled up my secret, private Instagram account—the one I’d started using to pretend I was a normal person instead of Jude Kane. Ugh, I hated that name. It had been mine since I was sixteen and a group of executives at my record label had decided my real name wasn’t going to appeal to our market of screaming teenage girls.

I’d thought auditioning for Star Factor was going to make all my dreams come true. And it had, in a way. But it had made all my nightmares come true too.

When the guys and I from Underground Dreaming had all decided to go our own way after ten years together, I’d thought that was finally my chance to do projects that interested me, to be the actor I’d been dreaming about since I’d first seen Richard Pike on screen. But spending my formative years in a boy band meant my image was fixed and very few people were willing to take me seriously.

All they saw was a pretty face, a hot body, and the millions of dollars they could make from selling my image.

It felt more than a little sleazy and every time I thought about it too closely it made me shudder.

Maybe if I didn’t get this audition, I should ask Miles, my agent, to look at theatre work… or musicals. I liked the idea of being on stage and maybe I’d be more in demand there than for films and television.

I scrolled through Instagram for a little longer then moved on to all my other secret social accounts, only pausing my mindless scrolling when a clip of porn flashed past.

It was Austin and some pretty, dark-haired twink on a sofa, and I found myself staring as they kissed, licking my lips as the clip cut to them fucking, Austin’s hips rolling as he pounded into the young man’s pert ass. My heart rate kicked up a notch, like I’d been running, and I felt my cock perking up as I watched, drinking in all the details like I was trying to commit the clip to memory.

Was that what Austin looked like when he fucked me from that angle?

Did it feel as good for the twink as it did for me?

And was the cocky smirk a permanent fixture on Austin’s face?

Fuck, he was such a bastard. A sexy one, but a bastard nonetheless.

I shook my head and flicked back to my email. I’d rather deal with that than watch Austin fuck some beautiful twink who looked utterly blissed out.

It wasn’t because I was jealous—I wasn’t, why would I be?—but because I didn’t need to think about sex. It just reminded me how alone I was.

God, that sounded even fucking sadder than actually being alone.

“Get it the fuck together, Pendleberry,” I said as I finally opened the email from Miles. My eyes scanned the short message, my smile growing wider with every word I read as excitement fizzed in my chest, stealing my breath away.

I had an audition.

I had an audition !

And not just any audition, but for one of the leads in a queer period drama filming in Yorkshire at the end of the year. It was everything I’d dreamed about and more. This was my chance, not just to act but to do something that felt like me .

I’d been out ever since I was twenty-one, when the record label had finally given in to my pleading. They’d realised I wasn’t as easily controllable as I had been at sixteen, so letting me come out had given me a fraction of freedom… even if it had come with a long list of things I wasn’t allowed to do alongside it.

I’d been held up as their pillar for diversity and inclusion and neatly packaged as the adorable gay best friend next door. They’d even found me a squeaky-clean boyfriend to solidify my image and sent us off to do a few Pride parades and front a few suitable clothing collections, and they’d used our image to sell the most non-sexual, wholesome, and palatable-to-conservatives version of queer love they could.

My “boyfriend,” Luke Yang, had been an up-and-coming actor at the time and although our relationship had been fake, we’d built a really solid friendship underneath it. And we still kept in contact after all these years, despite the fact I’d moved on to acting and him to making the most showstopping cakes in London.

“Get in!” I cried, doing a ridiculous little happy dance up and down the kitchen, shaking my butt in the world’s worst impression of twerking. “I have an audition!”

The phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down to see Luke’s name popping up. I hadn’t been expecting him to call, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t welcome.

“Hey!” I said, still dancing up and down as I answered.

“Hey yourself,” Luke said. “You sound like you’re in a good mood?”

“I got an audition! And I know it’s not really a big deal and it’s not a guarantee, but it’s a fucking audition for something that’s not a cameo of me oiled up and naked, so I’ll take it.”

Luke laughed, the sound reminding me of summer days by the sea when we’d been allowed to be us. “I’m so happy for you. I hope it works out.”

“Thanks, I hope so too.” I let out a long breath and shook my other hand out, trying to ignore the nervous itch in my fingers. “I’m just… I’m trying not to get too excited but it’s hard, y’know? Everyone thinks I’m such a boy band bimbo and this is a chance to prove I’m so much more.”

“Sweetie, you’ve always been more than a boy band bimbo,” Luke said softly, his voice wrapping around me like a warm hug. “And let me know if you need anything. I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks, and the same goes for you,” I said. “Oh hey, you called me. Everything okay?”

“More than okay. I have something very exciting to tell you!”

“Yeah? What’s up?” I asked as I moved from where I’d been leaning against the kitchen island to stick the kettle on before grabbing a faded mug from the cupboard. It’d been from one of the Pride collections Luke and I had done, and I’d never had the heart to get rid of it. I threw a teabag into the mug as Luke continued.

“Guess who got booked to make Rosamund Jones’s birthday cake?”

“Holy shit, seriously? That’s awesome. She’s so cool!”

“I know!” Luke was practically squealing. “She’s having a private party at this exclusive club in London. It’s all, like, afternoon tea, Alice in Wonderland themed. Gah, I probably shouldn’t say that… but she came to the kitchen last week with Henry Lu—I think he’s her friend or something. It didn’t look like they were together. Anyway, she’s so fucking sweet and her PA called me today to book it!”

“Oh my God, that’s amazing,” I said, my smile so wide it felt like it took up my whole face. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. It’s a really big deal and I knew you’d get it.”

My smile faltered slightly, but I didn’t let Luke hear it. His relationship with his family was rough, especially because he’d given up being their meal ticket to pursue his own happiness, and to them, making a cake for Rosamund Jones wouldn’t be as good as actually working with her. It didn’t matter how many cakes Luke made or for whom—to his family, he’d always be a disappointment.

“Always, babe. So tell me, what sort of cake are you making? Seven tiers with a million red roses made out of modelling chocolate? Or is it more ten thousand cupcakes with a modest three-tier cake in the middle. You know, very subtle.”

“Oh, you mean like your four-tier cake from last year? When you wanted something ‘low key’?” Luke asked teasingly.

“Hey, that was low key. For me at least,” I said as the kettle boiled. I carefully poured water in the mug, the smell of the tea seeping into my senses. No matter how famous I got, there was nothing better than bog basic builder’s tea.

“Mmhmm, sure.” He laughed again. “And for Rosamund… definitely something fantastical to fit with the theme. We’re doing three tiers and then some little cakes and sweet treats too—three different flavours for the cake and I think three or four different small treats. You know, cake pops, cupcakes, mini-tiered cakes, that sort of thing.”

“You’re making me hungry now.”

“If you’re lucky I’ll save you some spares and you can drag your butt across London to see me for once.”

“Done,” I said. “But also, we should meet before then. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said. There was a sudden pause and then he said, with a certainty that was impossible to hide from, “You hooked up with Austin again, didn’t you?”

“I—”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you and that’s one hundred percent a yes. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I said one word,” I replied, throwing my hand in the air even though I knew Luke couldn’t see me.

“Bitch, I know you,” Luke said. “That’s exactly the tone you’ve always used when Austin was involved.” I stifled a laugh because I could picture the expression on his face and the way he’d be standing with his hand on his hip, about ready to bitch slap me into next week if I lied to him.

I’d come clean to Luke about my hook-ups with Austin not long after we’d started “dating” and he’d had no problem with them continuing as long as we never got caught. He’d always covered for me and I’d forever been grateful, even though, looking back, I’d been putting a hell of a lot at risk to get dicked down by someone who irritated the ever-loving fuck out of me. He always had done. But that didn’t mean I’d ever been able to resist him.

Austin Carter was something I didn’t know how to quit, and after ten years of secret, scorching sex, I should have known better. But I didn’t.

I groaned and rested my head against the cupboard door in front of me. “I know. I just… shit, I don’t know how to say no to him. He’s such a fucking prick but when he smiles at me…”

“You drop to your knees faster than a hungry twink in a roomful of bears?”

“Are you using yourself as an example?” I asked with a grin, hoping I could throw Luke off enough that we wouldn’t have to talk about my ongoing obsession with Austin fucking Carter.

“Oh please, my twink days are long behind me, if they ever existed at all,” Luke said. “Now stop trying to avoid the subject. When was the last time?”

“Saturday… he was at the afterparty and he found me at the bar and—”

“You dragged him off to some toilet or other to do deliciously filthy things to each other.” Luke sighed and I knew he was thinking about Austin’s dick. He’d told me once how hot he thought Austin was and I’d ended up spilling half the details about sex with him over two bottles of wine.

“No, actually. I, er, I made him come to my hotel room.”

“Oh shit, babe,” Luke said. “Hotel sex?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I said casually. “We’ve fucked in hotel rooms loads of times.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

“Can you please not make this into a thing?”

“Only when you stop denying that it is. It’s been ten fucking years, Kanan! When are you going to wake up and realise that’s not something most people do?” I winced at the use of my real name, because it meant he’d reached his limit. But I couldn’t deny that Luke had a point. My… thing with Austin wasn’t normal. But it was just what we did: banter, bitch, have at least one round of scorching hot sex, and forget about each other until the next time.

Except I’d never been much good at the forgetting part.

Austin had taken up permanent residence in my brain and I still hadn’t figured out how to shake him. Even when I’d had relationships, I’d still been thinking about Austin and that had only made me resent him more.

“Fine,” I said, sipping my tea and staring at a random spot on the wall before adding, “but I don’t know what good accepting it will do. It’s not like anything’s going to change.”

Luke sighed. It was the sigh of an endlessly patient man who’d reached the end of his rope. “Do you want it to?”

“I… er…”

“Figure out the answer to that first. Then you’ll know where to go.”

“Yeah, I guess I should.”

I wouldn’t, though. Because figuring out if I wanted things to change meant I’d have to actually examine my feelings for Austin, and there was no way in hell I wanted to go anywhere near that mess.

I’d just stick to sex.

It’d worked for us so far.