I lie on my bed, breathing hard, as tears creep into the corner of my eyes. Wiping at them with the back of my hand I try to contain the sob of frustration as my body throbs with arousal. Had I done something wrong? Why did he reject me again? The sting of the rebuff from the hallway is still fresh in my mind. Why was Alex toying with me like this? I’d been prepared to apologize for my part in the whole misunderstanding, but this time it goes beyond anything I think I might have done wrong.

One glance down my body shows the bulge in my pants, straining to get out. I wanted him, desperately needed him to touch me. I wanted to feel the squeeze of his palm when he wrapped his hand around me. I needed to feel the ache, running so deep, ease when he wrapped his mouth around the sensitive flesh like he did at the nightclub. Skin to skin. I’d give anything if he had just let me slip my fingers around him. He couldn’t deny he’d been aroused too. Or would he? I consider getting up and going to look for him to demand an explanation. No one is going to stop me from making my way around the ship. As the chief of productions, they would expect me to go anywhere I want and speak to whomever I need to.

The thing is, I have no desire to get up right now. I slide my palm down my chest, feeling the burn of anticipation the closer I get to my waist. My fingers are trembling as they skim the soft skin just below my belly button, and I close them, trying to squeeze the hesitancy out of my hands, all the while feeling the swell from my dick. This is miserable. There’s no way I can get up and go anywhere or think clearly in this state. I make the dive and pop the button. I’ve masturbated before, but this just feels desperate.

Wrapping my palm around my cock, after pushing my pants and boxers down on my hips, I gasp feeling the pulsing veins under my fingers. My mind is torn between satisfaction and irritation. It feels so good, but at the same time, it isn’t enough. It should have been Alex! The fact that my mind has come back around to him and he isn’t here to help me out angers me. It doesn’t take long to work myself over, but it’s hollow and unsatisfactory despite the need to come.

As I clean myself up I storm around the bedroom, annoyed that Alex keeps stealing moments with me. Making time and then pulling away. Now he’s stolen this from me too. It’s not fair! I work myself into such a state that before I know it, I’m marching down the hall, thinking of all of the things I’m going to say about how he can’t keep leading me on like this.

It doesn’t take long before I pass a very confused looking housekeeper. The older gentlemen looks completely bewildered, like he’s seen too many people out and about. It makes me wonder who else is prowling around at this hour.

I round the corner and stand in front of Alex’s door. I’m about to knock and demand answers and explanations when I hear angry voices inside. What is going on? Is Alex seeing someone else? Had they caught him coming back from my cabin? Straining my ears, I try to make out what they’re saying.

“Where were you?” the reply is muffled, followed by banging around. It’s all I need to hear, really. That accusatory question often posed by a jilted lover. Deciding not to knock on the door, I pause, not wanting to interrupt whatever altercation is going on in there. It’s no use. I don’t need this kind of drama tonight. Bone weary, I make my way back to my cabin and crash once I get into bed.

* * *

The next morning, I wake early and shower, still feeling the weight of last night and everything that happened. It’s a long trudge to the dining room, where the bartender who served me the drink with Jake the other night is now acting as the concierge and seating everyone per their requested locations.

“Perhaps you’d like to sit out on the balcony, sir? You look as if you’ve had a rough night.”

I look up into his face and he’s smiling kindly. “That would be really nice, thank you.”

He guides me to the door at the far end of the dining room, and I find a corner table for two just under the awning. I watch the ocean cast glittering white caps across the horizon. The weather has been absolutely stunning since we set sail. If only the clouds hanging over my mood would lift, I’d feel a lot better.

Deciding on a simple breakfast with orange juice, I hope the vitamin C will perk me up. My stomach drops when I look through the glass doors into the dining room and see Alex walk in, looking as exhausted as I feel. He sits in the opposite corner from me and it’s hard to see him, but knowing he’s there is enough to turn my stomach in knots.

When the waitress brings my food, I look at the eggs sitting on the plate. The cheerful yellow yolks cooked sunny side up seem to congeal on my plate, although I know it’s only because I’ve lost my appetite. I force my orange juice down along with a few bites of toast.

The waitress looks puzzled when she comes over. “Was there something wrong with the eggs, sir?”

“No, no, I’m just not feeling well today.”

Gathering my production notes and briefcase and pulling my hat low over my eyes, I enter the dining room and walk to the door, keeping my eyes fixed on it, but I can feel Alex watching me the entire time.

How am I going to work with him for another day? We’ve got the shoots today and then it’s a wrap. Leaving things like this with Alex is not right, but what am I going to say to him? I busy myself with setting up, although the crew has already been on the job for a couple of hours now, and there’s not much to do except wait for the models and actors to arrive.

I can practically feel when Alex walks in the room, sensing his eyes on me while I’m talking to Jake. Jake is pleased with the amount of progress we made on the shoots last night, and if we do well this morning and this afternoon, we might be able to call it a wrap and have an early evening to relax for the rest of the cruise.

“Places, people!” I call.

I see Alex move to the right side of the stage. It seems strange that he’s missing a couple of racks of clothing, and his assistants have been running around with various pieces all morning, but the models turn out in what was agreed on so I turn my attention to the actors who were shooting for the promo yesterday. The stud is a type I’ve worked with before. I know his type and I know that as long as I make him think he’s the one to come up with a brilliant photo idea, then he will go along with whatever I need him to do. He’s clearly hungover, though, and we have to keep stopping so he can run for the bathroom and then have his makeup reapplied. Today’s shoot features more than him, so I opt for getting him out of the way and then begin working with the other talent. The guy from last night who isn’t so full of himself is a promising actor, and I make a mental note to pass his name along my connections when I get off the ship tomorrow.

It’s lunch time before I realize it. When I call for the break and look up, seeing Alex standing alone and reviewing his notes, I decide it’s time to talk about last night. I approach him.

“Hi. Umm, good morning. Well, good afternoon, I mean.”

“Hello,” Alex looks up and then we both look away.

I search my thoughts, wondering when I ever lost all my vocabulary. “I wanted to talk to you about last night. I…I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

Alex sighs and runs his hands through his hair. I can’t help but notice how professional he looks today. His slacks are crisp and his shirt and tie are straight. He looks elegant although it does nothing to detract from his masculinity.

“I see,” Alex folds his clipboard across his chest, and I get the impression he’s trying to hug it to guard himself.

“I just, I’m not very good at this. I was so confused by the hallway the other night and then last night, there were voices coming from the room and I…” I stop talking, seeing his look of confusion.

“David, I understand. I really do. I’ve been where you are and it’s okay. I’m not going to pressure you,” we both look around uncomfortably, and I have this feeling like we’re skirting something important, but we keep missing the mark.

“Are you sure? Because, well you just ran out and I…well, I…” I don’t know how to say it. I’ve never known how to say it, I suppose.

“David, it’s just…it’s not a good time, okay?” Alex puts a hand on my shoulder and I struggle to keep the sting in my eyes from embarrassing me in front of the entire production crew. “I understand, and I feel for you. I really do. But there’s just…it’s hard to explain. I just want you to know I’m not upset by it.”

I blink, now I’m the one confused. Alex drops his hand and turns to walk to Alayah. I feel like I should call him back, like I should make things right. There’s got to be a way to talk to him. We head back to Miami tomorrow and then my shot with Alex will be over. I consider all my possibilities. Chase after him? No, maybe the problem is he doesn’t want people seeing us. I get it. We have work reputations to uphold. Maybe at dinner? I consider the dining room. We’re supposed to get a little rain tonight and the dining room will be packed if that’s the case. There are no other breaks where we might have some privacy, so I figure my best shot at this will be to approach his room tonight. If another lover is there, so be it. I can’t leave things between us the way they are.

I might not be good at expressing how I feel, but my dad always told me there are certain things a man needs to strive for, love and integrity. I’ve built the integrity through my profession. My mom always told me I’ve got love in spades, but maybe my confusion came because I wasn’t loving the right person. I consider Alex and how he might fit into that. We’re in the same industry, and although it’s tricky to navigate, relationships can work. That, and we have similar social circles. I shake my head. How can I be thinking about a relationship with a man who won’t even talk to me?

I suppose there’s only one way to find out if there’s anything worth striving for, as Dad put it. I can go talk to Alex tonight after the wrap. We’ll finally have it out and I’ll see exactly where I stand with him.