Page 11 of Total Creative Control

“Absolutely not,” Lewis bit out. “And nothing ever will happen between us. Aaron is a colleague. Sex is definitely not on the table.”

“No?” Owen said, raising one sceptical brow. “Because a lot of people meet their life partners at work, you know.”

“I’m hisboss,” Lewis said repressively. “Besides, I can easily find partners outside of work, thank you very much.”

Owen looked thoughtful. “Speaking of which, what does Mason think of all the evenings you spend at work with Aaron?”

“Mason?” Lewis said stupidly. For a moment, he was genuinely bewildered by the question.

“Yes,Mason,” Owen said. “You know—your boyfriend?”

Lewis blinked at that. “Boyfriend,” he echoed, frowning. “Erm, no. We were seeing one another for a bit, but it’s pretty much over. And for the record, we were never boyfriends.”

“Pretty much over?” Owen’s brows arched in disbelief.

Lewis shrugged. He didn’t do relationships—more like flings with fuzzy endings. Most guys took the hint when he stopped answering their calls.

“Okay, more likeactuallyover,” he amended. “For a couple of weeks now.”

Owen studied him for several long moments, till Lewis felt himself doing that guilty squirming thing that made him feel about twelve. How did Owen still manage to do that to him?

Eventually, Owen said, “That’s funny because I saw him on Monday, and he definitely thinks you’re still together.”

Lewis stared at him, aghast. “Does he?”Damn.Looked like Mason was one of those guys he needed to be blunter with. “Wait, where didyousee Mason?”

Mason was a model. It was difficult to imagine where he and Owen could possibly have run into one another.

“I was up at a house in Wimbledon to talk about a job. Massive grounds. Guy’s a photographer. Mason was arriving when I was on my way out.” He frowned at the memory.

“So what did he say about me?”

Owen blinked. “Hmm?”

“Mason. What did he say that made you think he believes we’re still together?”

“Oh, right. We said hello, the guy asked how we knew each other, and Mason said, ‘He’s my boyfriend’s brother’so…” Owen shrugged.

Yeah. Maybe Mason did have the wrong end of the stick.

“I’ll talk to him,” Lewis said, taking a swallow of his beer to mask his discomfort.

“Do that,” Owen said. “But be nice, okay?”

Lewis glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Owen sighed. “For someone who makes his living crafting words, you’re sometimes very tactless.”

Lewis shook his head, though not in denial. “I just hate bullshit, you know that.”

“Yes, I know, but—” Owen broke off.

“But what?”

“Some people are just more sensitive than others. Your Aaron might be able to deal with your grumpy moods and rude comments, but—”

“He’s notmy Aaron, for fuck’s sake. And as for Mason, he’s a big boy. He can cope with a little rejection, I’m sure.”

Owen eyed him doubtfully for a moment; then he shrugged. “Fine,” he said, turning away to lift his now-empty glass and wiggle it at the barman, who nodded in acknowledgement.