1
TO HELL IN A HANDBASKET
“ACE, THE MANAGER’S here.”
I was vaguely aware of Dylan’s voice behind me and the hand he had on my shoulder, but as I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of Syn’s presidential suite overlooking the Las Vegas Strip, I couldn’t seem to turn my gaze away from the press that had gathered at the hotel’s entrance far below. It seemed more were streaming in every minute, and as I watched the crowd grow larger, the panic I’d been feeling morphed into utter numbness. How was it possible that life could change so drastically in the span of a few minutes?
“Ace?” Dylan said again. “I think maybe you should sit down.”
Surely all those people aren’t here for me. Word couldn’t have spread that fast.
But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it wasn’t true. Images flashed through my head—the paparazzo standing in the middle of Dylan’s suite, disguised in a bellhop uniform; the click click click of his camera as he stole our private moments; Dylan running after him in nothing but a towel draped around his waist; me, pulling him back inside as my world collapsed in mere seconds.
Resting my forehead against the cool glass, I closed my eyes and tried to slow the rapid beating of my heart.
“Just give him a second,” I heard Dylan say as his hand left my shoulder. I knew I needed to turn around and face the reality of what had just happened, but doing that meant I was ready to deal with the fallout I knew was coming. Somewhere in the hotel my cell was ringing, and it was an easy guess who that could be. Roger, my manager, or Martina, my publicist. Hell, probably both of them on speakerphone.
The secret I tried so hard to conceal, gone to such great lengths, like this entire getaway weekend, to protect…
I shook my head against the glass. What would this mean for my career now? Sure, the world knew I was gay, but they’d never actually had a visual to go along with that. According to Roger and Martina, and even my parents, my career wouldn’t survive if I flaunted a relationship in the faces of moviegoers. And unfortunately, it looked like I was about to find out whether they were right in that prediction or not, because there was no way I could deny the man I’d come to need in my life.
“Ace?” Dylan’s voice was gentle, as though he was coaxing a skittish mustang, and I couldn’t blame him. I knew he thought I was about two seconds away from bolting. I took in a much-needed breath of air and then finally turned to face the music.
Dylan was standing only a few feet away from me, dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, and it was right then, with his eyes locked on mine and the earnest expression on his face, that I knew the first thing I wanted…no, needed to do, was lay his fears to rest.
Not the fear of what was to come, because honestly, I had no idea what nightmare would soon unfold around the two of us. But I needed him to know that the reason for my withdrawal, the reason for my panic, wasn’t steeped in regret for being with him.
“Ace, the manager—”
“Can wait a minute,” I said, and took the three steps it required to bring me toe to toe with him. I brought my hands up to his face and trailed my thumb along his lower lip. “Everyone else can fucking wait a minute.”
Dylan’s hands came up to circle my wrists, and his eyes were full of compassion as they roved all over my face, trying to ascertain if I was okay. I wasn’t, and I knew that much was obvious. But before any misunderstandings made their way between us, before we were descended on by people who would have very strong opinions one way or another about us and our relationship, I wanted Dylan to be one hundred percent clear that any opinions expressed were not mine.
I swallowed, trying to find the words to explain all the emotions that were racing through my mind. But before I could get any out, Dylan lowered my arms and wrapped them around his waist. He nuzzled his face in against my bare shoulder and neck and asked, “Are you all right?”
I tightened my hold around him, thinking if I didn’t keep him close he might somehow get pulled from my grasp and I’d never have this opportunity again.
“No,” I said. “But this is the first time my heart has slowed somewhat since you opened that door and everything went to hell in a handbasket.”
“And may I just say, on behalf of the hotel, how unbelievably sorry we are for the intrusion,” Charles Toth, Syn’s assistant manager, said, coming forward. “We’ve already called the local authorities, and rest assured we’ll get to the bottom of this. It’s almost impossible for anyone to have access to this floor, so I’m not sure how—”
“Almost,” Dylan said, lifting his head from my shoulder. “Almost impossible? Somehow, a man was able to steal not only one of your employee uniforms, but also the private access elevator keycard, as well as a separate entry card to my room. How fucking lax do you have to be, especially considering the kind of guests you have staying on this floor?”
Oh hell. Dylan was pissed, and even through the shitstorm swirling around us, I couldn’t repress the small smile that twisted my lips at his possessive tone.
Charles blanched and began wringing his hands. “I guarantee we’ll—”
“Don’t bother making promises you can’t keep,” Dylan said, facing the man turning Casper. “Have you bothered looking outside yet? Even from forty-five floors up you can see the swarm of people. What are you going to do about that? About the damage that’s been done already? About Ace’s future?”
My hand went tight on Dylan’s waist so he wouldn’t take a step farther. With the flush that was creeping up his neck, I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t strangle the man he had literally shaking in his polished Gucci loafers, and the last thing we needed to add to the field day was a murder.
“I…uh…we have full faith in the authorities—” Charles said.
“Who can magically erase the pictures that are probably going up all over the internet right now?” Dylan said. “Right.”
“I appreciate you trying to help, but could you give us some privacy for a few minutes?” I asked Charles, and the fact that I was kicking him out seemed to surprise him.
“Of course,” he said, walking backward to the front door. “I’ll just…guard the door until you… Right.” Then, as he shut the door behind him, I steered Dylan toward the couch.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s just run over the choices.”
“Should you answer your phone first?” Dylan asked over the insistent ringing of my cell, and when he finally took a seat, I went to the back bedroom to grab my phone. Ten missed calls already, from both Roger and Martina, along with more than a handful of texts. As I stood there staring at the screen, I had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. A little over a year earlier, there’d been the same frenzy, the same phone calls, the same feeling of despair. Only that time there hadn’t been pictures. Shayne’s matchmaker boss from hell had leaked my secret to the press, but before things had gotten too out of hand, Shayne had covered for me and things had slowly died down.
As I headed back to the main room and caught sight of the stunning man sitting on the couch worrying his hand through his brown hair, I realized too that I had been alone the last time.
“Dylan…” I said as I went to his side and took a seat. He angled his face so he was staring at me, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and drawing a finger down his jaw.
“Please, don’t worry about me. God,” he said, shaking his head. “You have enough to worry about.”
My lips pulled into a thin line at his words, because while he was right, and I had a million and one things to worry about, my brain and thoughts kept zeroing in on him—and wasn’t that an eye-opening moment, to realize that Dylan was my number one concern here.
I cleared my throat and reached for one of his hands. When he entwined his fingers in mine, I realized how his were shaking, and wanted to ease him somehow. But that was going to be difficult considering my own were trembling.
“Okay, so,” I said, and then sighed. “We have to work out what we’re going to do next. What you want to do next.”
“Me?” Dylan said, his eyes widening. Then he squeezed my fingers and gingerly let go. As he stood and started to pace in front of me, I could see the wheels turning in Dylan’s head. His face closed off, his expression became unreadable, and then he stopped and looked down at me, and I had a feeling whatever he was about to say was going to cut me straight to the core.
“Ace…look, I’ll say whatever you want me to say. Or nothing at all, if that’s the case. I can hide in this room until everyone leaves. Whatever. But the way I see it, if you leave here by yourself and deny it, then for a while this would have to end. Maybe forever—”
“No,” I said, getting to my feet. That was the one thing I was sure I didn’t want. “That’s not going to happen.” I placed one of my hands over the ones he was twisting in front of himself, and shook my head. “This, what’s happening between us, is not ending. Not unless you want it to.”
Dylan chewed his lip as he held my hand in almost a death grip. “I…I…”
“I know this is a lot to take in. Shit, I haven’t even taken it all in. But if you want this, if you want me, then I’m ready to walk out that door with your hand in mine and tell the world to fuck off.” And as soon as those words were out of my mouth, I knew they were the right ones. When it came to Dylan, there wasn’t a choice to make. It’d been made from the first day I saw him, and if he was willing do this, to stick by me and weather whatever came our way, then it didn’t matter what anyone else had to say. He, and my decision, was non-negotiable.
* * *
MY MOUTH FELL open. Holy shit, I hadn’t been expecting that at all, and when the phone on the couch began to ring again, I asked, “What about your team? Won’t they have an opinion on that?”
“I’m sure they’ll have many opinions, but the only one that matters right now is yours.”
“You can’t be serious. But all those people—”
“Don’t mean a fucking thing right now.” Something in Ace’s tone told me he was dead serious, and I clamped my mouth shut. Then he continued, his voice softer this time. “This is going to be a nightmare. I’m not about to sugarcoat it and tell you otherwise. If you stay with me, you’ll be followed. Everywhere. Your picture will be everywhere, and not the hot billboard or magazine ads, either. They’ll catch you at the grocery store. Getting gas. Leaving my house. Leaving yours. Hell, there will probably be helicopters over my neighborhood for the foreseeable future, and I need to know…”
As he trailed off, his gaze dropped to the floor, and I reached for his face and brought his mouth to mine, needing to reassure him that I wasn’t going anywhere. And when I pulled back, I whispered against his lips, “At least then we won’t have to hide…”
Ace’s brilliant blue eyes met mine, and he seemed to search for something. “But when you realize what being with me now entails, you might want to.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head firmly. “Don’t try to scare me off.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Don’t worry about them either. So they’ll follow us. So they’ll post shit in the papers—”
“Untrue shit.”
“I can handle it. But can you?”
And that right there was the real question. Yeah, Ace had dealt with the price of fame for most of his adult life, but I knew what it could cost him to come out of hiding and show the world who he was…and whom he was with. Plus, being gay was still something he was coming to terms with. He’d only been out for a year, for God’s sake, and he’d never even been in a relationship before. I’d had three decades of living as a gay man, and I knew the kind of hate that could get thrown our way. And in his line of work? It could—and would—get brutal.
Ace sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes, and when he looked back at me, there was a weariness there that I’d never seen before. As though he’d already lived out the way this thing was going to go. But there was determination there too, and it was in that moment that I knew there was no turning back.
Ace reached for my hand, and as he brushed over my knuckles with his thumb, he said, “If you’re with me, I think I could take on anything.”
“That’s the sweetest thing that’s ever come out of your mouth. Not something I’d have thought the Ace Locke would ever say,” I teased. Inside, though, his admission made every part of my body thrill.
“Hey, I can be sweet.”
“Yes, you were very sweet this morning. And last night,” I said, and planted kisses along his jaw, his nose, his forehead.
“Now if that gets out, it might ruin my reputation.”
“Or it might open up a whole new world to you. Ace Locke in romantic dramas. Ace Locke in quirky indies. Ace Locke in a Disney animation—”
“Okay, okay, let’s not get crazy. Ace Locke in action thrillers suits me just fine. At least for now.”
“Then the world will just have to get on board. Besides, who wouldn’t fucking love you?”
Ace quirked an eyebrow at me, and when I realized what my words had implied, my face went hot. That just made the small grin on his lips grow, and I rolled my eyes and shoved him away playfully before something else decided to come tumbling out of my mouth.
As Ace’s cell went off for the upteenth time, he said, “I should probably figure out a game plan with my team if you want to go get your stuff ready to go. Grand Canyon next time?”
“Next time,” I said, relieved there’d even be a next time, and as Ace sat on the couch and brought the phone to his ear, I gave him some privacy and went to the adjoining suite to grab the bag that had started this whole mess. If I hadn’t left the damn thing in there last night, I wouldn’t have opened the door, and then there’d be no half-naked paparazzi shots, no exit plans being made. But I couldn’t think about that. Refused to take the blame for the havoc they’d caused. Those assholes would’ve gotten a picture somehow, someway, no matter whether it was here in Vegas or sneaking around back in L.A.
At least that’s what I was trying to tell myself.
Heading back into Ace’s suite, I went behind the couch as to not distract from the heated conversation he was having, and as I did, I paused by the window and looked down. The crowd outside the hotel’s entrance had more than doubled in size, and it made my heart thump harder in my chest as I backed away.
Would all of those people follow us? At least we’d be going out the back private entrance, the same way we’d come to the hotel, but what happened when we got to the main road?
Yeah, okay, that’s not intimidating at all, I thought, and headed toward the bedroom to pack our bags.