The bedroom door slammed open and Christian jolted upright in his bed, instinctively pulling his covers up to his chest. His head was pounding and his tongue felt like cotton. Oh god he really shouldn’t have had that last Maloneyo. Prying his eyes open, he squinted at the form standing in his doorway, silhouetted in light. There was only one person who had the second key to their apartment.

“Jesus, Mason, what do you want?” he rasped.

“Did you fuck my cousin?”

The blood seemed to drain from Christian’s body, leaving him ice cold. How did Mason know that? How did he even suspect? Had Jonah said something? Given an interview maybe?

“I… I don’t understand.”

Mason shifted from one foot to the other. “Really? Cause it’s a pretty simple question. Did you fuck Jonah when you two were at the cabin last week?”

There was no way he could lie to Mason. Not about this. It was too important. He sighed and nodded. “Yeah. We—we had sex.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Look, he didn’t want me saying anything, so I thought it best to keep it to myself until he figured out what he wanted to do about the whole sexuality thing.”

Mason snorted. “So you told millions of strangers, but not your best friend?”

“What?” Christian’s voice was deadly quiet.

“Dude, you wrote an entire fucking blog post about it.”

No. No, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. “I didn’t post it.”

“You wanna fucking bet?” Reaching into his pocket, Mason pulled out his phone and walked over to the bed. He turned it around and Christian’s heart jumped into his chest.

There it was, in all its drunken glory. The nearly two-thousand-word essay on his week with Jonah for all the world to see. And he couldn’t take it back.

“How many people have seen it?” he asked, his voice still barely above a whisper.

Mason sat down at the foot of Christian’s bed. “It’s gone viral. Every gossip site’s picked it up and it’s been shared everywhere. Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram. Hell, even Snapchat latched onto it.”

Oh god. Jonah had to have seen it. It was… what time was it? He rolled over and tried to ignore his churning stomach. It was three in the afternoon here, which meant it was noon in California. Maybe he hadn’t seen after all. He’d said last week he started filming when he got back, so if Christian was lucky, then Jonah would still be on set.

“Do you think—”

“He’s seen it,” Mason said with a grim nod. “He texted me a few hours ago. Filming got an early start, so he got to go home early.”

Just his luck. “What do I do, Mase?” he asked, his voice strained.

“I can’t help you with this one. What the hell even happened last night? I thought you were going out with some friends.”

“I did. I went out with Deke and a couple of others and got… really fucking hammered. And then I came home and I wrote about Jonah and me, and then I saved the draft. I swear that was all I did. I just wanted a way to process what had happened.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you didn’t save the draft. You published it.”

He’d been so fucking careful. He’d spell-checked the damn thing! And yet somehow he’d hit publish instead of save? That wasn’t like him.

But you did have nine shots of bourbon in a very short period of time.

That would be enough to make anyone do something stupid.

“This is going to sound like the worst question I could possibly ask, and I know you’re going to want to slap me for it. If you did, I wouldn’t stop you, but let me remind you, too, that I am very hungover. Did it read okay?”

Mason groaned and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? That’s your first concern?”

“Not my first,” Christian objected. “Definitely not my first. I just want to make sure that millions of people aren’t sharing the drunken ramblings of a blogger instead of a cohesive, put-together post.”

After all, he was still a journalist, and he had his integrity to maintain. What littler there was left.

“It was fine,” Mason said. “Not your finest piece, for sure, but I think we can forgive that since you were too drunk to even notice you published the damn thing. What I’m more interested in knowing is how you managed to avoid all those typos. When I’m drunk like that, you can’t read my texts, much less an entire dissertation on falling in love with my cousin again.”

Christian shrugged. It was something of a gift, being able to type coherently even while drunk. He’d discovered it during college and used it to his advantage, turning in more than one paper he’d written when he was more than a little buzzed. “I used spell check?”

“Yeah, sure. Keep your secrets.”

“It’s not so much a secret as it is just… something I can do. I don’t know how, but I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.” He shifted again, propping himself up against the headboard. “Do you think I should call him?”

“You have his number?”

“Yeah.”

Mason pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I know you just want to clear the air and explain what happened, but in all honesty, he probably doesn’t want to talk to you right now. You betrayed his trust. I mean, would you want to talk to you right now?”

That was a fair point. In Jonah’s shoes, he wouldn’t want to hear from himself ever again. Jonah was probably furious. But more than that, he was probably hurt beyond repair. Christian had told him over and over again that nothing would get out about their week together. He’d sworn. But apparently he was no better than the woman who’d sold him out to the tabloids.

“Look, don’t beat yourself up about it. You didn’t mean to do it. I’m just pissed you didn’t ever tell me.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Christian dragged a hand through his hair. “You were my best friend, he was your cousin. I didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

“You seriously think it would have made things weird? You just said it. I’m your best friend. I wouldn’t have given a shit. But you hid that for what - eight years. That hurts.”

“I’m sorry. Honestly. If I had known it wouldn’t have been a big deal, I would have told you. I just thought it was better to stay silent.” He reached out and patted Mason on the leg. “Are you sure I should c—”

“Don’t call him. Let him reach out to you. He’s gonna be hurting and angry, so just give him space.”

Christian nodded. Mason was right, of course. Jonah was so conscious of his career and how easily it could be destroyed. And while Christian was fairly sure that something like this wouldn’t destroy it, it still didn’t mean he deserved to be outed by anyone but himself.

Taking his hand, Mason gave it a squeeze. “Come on. I’ll make you breakfast—er, lunch.”

* * *

Christian had hoped that food and a hot shower would do wonders to clear his head and make him feel better, but two hours later, he still felt like shit. Jonah probably hated him, and what was even worse, he deserved it. The worst part, though, was that he couldn’t even apologize. He’d picked up his phone so many times to call, but every time, Mason’s voice of reason stopped him. So instead, he pulled his comforter off the bed and dragged it into the living room, where he curled up in a bundle on the sofa.

Mason was playing some video game or another, and Christian stared at the television without really watching. But at least he wasn’t alone. He definitely didn’t need to be by himself right now. Otherwise, he knew he’d end up doing something stupid like buying a plane ticket to LA, or at the very least, leaving a dozen voicemails on Jonah’s phone.

“I think I’m gonna order pizza later,” Mason said over his shoulder. “You want anything?”

“Not really.” His stomach had been in knots all day, to the point he’d barely been able to eat the shrimp and grits Mason had made.

Mason paused the game. “You need to eat something. I’m not just going to let you waste away because you made a mistake.”

“I could ruin his career, Mason.”

“Or you could help it. You don’t know these things. Don’t go borrowing trouble.”

If only it were that easy.

His phone buzzed and Christian immediately grabbed it from the table. It wasn’t Jonah. In fact, he didn’t know the number. It wasn’t a local area code.

“Are you going to answer that?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know who it is.”

Taking his phone, Mason looked at it. “That’s a California number. Who knows. Maybe he’s calling from a different phone. He has like… four.”

Christian tapped to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Christian Miller?” The voice was feminine and definitely not Jonah.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“My name is Eden Tucker and I’m with InTune Hollywood. Do you have a moment to talk?”

He looked over to Mason, who raised an eyebrow. Placing his hand over the microphone, he whispered, “It’s someone from a magazine wanting to talk. Should I take it?”

“Ask them what it’s about.”

“Could I ask what this is in regards to,” he said.

“Yes, of course. We’re looking for a new LGBT correspondent and we think you’d be a perfect fit. We’d like to do an interview just for formality purposes, but we’re prepared to offer you the job, if you want it.”

Well that was most certainly not what he had been expecting to hear. He thought they’d want an interview, not offer him a job. “I um… look, is this about the blog post, because I—”

“In the attempt at full disclosure, yes, the blog post had quite a bit to do with it. But we did a bit of digging, and you’re a solid writer. It’s clear you’re passionate about cinema and LGBT issues, and we think this would be a great fit for you.”

“I already have a job…”

“We understand that, but I hope you’ll hear us out. We’re prepared to offer you a competitive salary with benefits and help you make the transition to California.”

They’d move him to California. That was a big deal. Moving would mean he would actually have a chance to see Jonah again, if Jonah wanted anything to do with him. What more, he could apologize in person, rather than over the phone. It could be exactly what he needed.

But he would have to give up his life here. He had an apartment with Mason. He worked for his best friend. There was so much he had established here, and the thought of giving it all up was terrifying.

“Let’s go ahead and set up an interview time,” he said finally.

At the very least, he could talk to them and see what they had to offer. Just because they presented something didn’t mean he had to take it. He would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of his life writing human interest pieces for the magazines he worked for. But there would always be that part of him that would wonder what could have happened if he’d taken the position.

They set up the interview for the next day and Eden ended the call.

Mason looked up at him, frowning. “What was that all about? You’re not actually gonna talk to them, are you?”

“It wasn’t an interview for an article,” Christian said, scrolling through his contacts. “It was an interview for a job.”

He hovered over Jonah’s name and once again hit the home button instead. He would tell Jonah about the job offer later. After he’d had a chance to apologize.