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Hugh’s eyes met mine. “Oscar… what…?” He seemed to see something in my expression that stopped his inquiry in its tracks. “You sure you’re okay?”
I flashed him a bright smile. “Of course I am. Good meal, good orgasm. The perfect end to a hectic day and a really hectic week.”
His smile was a little less convincing than I hoped mine was. We finished washing each other without speaking and stepped out of the shower to dry ourselves off.
Hugh peeled back the crisp duvet and climbed into the large bed. I contemplated how best to extricate myself—a quick excuse and I could be out of there, off to my own room, where I could smack myself on the forehead and curse myself for stepping into this minefield against my better judgment. But then he smiled at me, a real smile this time, with that adorably crooked canine on display, and I was helpless to do anything but climb into the bed and follow him under the covers, pulling him against me.
“So, you’re helping out a photographer friend this weekend?” I asked in an effort to distract myself from this colossal mistake.
His damp curls slid against my chin as he nodded. “Yeah. My friend Brant. If I’d known whose wedding it was or put two and two together faster when I saw Roman and Scotty earlier, I’d have warned you I’d be here, but?—”
“No one who saw your face on the beach could doubt how surprised we both were. Roman said I looked like I saw a ghost.” He’d also asked who Hugh was to me and had seemed unconvinced when I’d said we were friends. “So, is Brant the good-looking guy you were standing next to on the beach?”
Unfortunately, my question came out tinged with something almost like… jealousy, which was ridiculous. That wasn’t what Hugh and I were about. Not at all.
My arms tightened around Hugh involuntarily, but if he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. “Mmm. Brant’s got a family connection here. I think he’s afraid he might get caught up talking to the guests and miss a critical shot.” He sounded fond and amused. “God knows he has enough to keep him busy.”
“I didn’t know you had a friend on the Cape. You haven’t mentioned him. Do you and Brant… I mean, do you come up here often?” I clamped my teeth shut against the awkwardness of my own insecurity. Why was I even asking this? I shouldn’t care.
I didn’t care.
At this strange barrage of questions, Hugh tilted his head back to look at me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I try to get to the Cape a couple of times every summer, mostly to go to P-Town. If I can catch up with Brant while I’m here, that’s even better.”
“Uh-huh. So it’s just a casual… friendship-thing.” I wasn’t sure how that fit into Hugh’s holding-out-for-love philosophy, but I understood casual friendship hookups. I’d had plenty of them over the years. Hell, if one wanted to get technical about it, that’s what Hugh and I were doing currently?—
“Whoa. Unclench, Oscar. What made you so tense all of a sudden?” Hugh’s lips turned up at the corners, and he reached up to press a finger between my own eyebrows. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
I huffed out a breath. “Hardly.” My stomach twisted at the lie.
Hugh leaned up on one elbow. “Brant and I worked a fashion show together in Boston a couple of years ago. We commiserated together over the harsh working conditions with the overly demanding designer. After that, we became friends and began referring jobs to each other. He and his wife are friends of the grooms.” He lifted an eyebrow at the word “wife.”
I was an ass. Moreover, it was none of my fucking business. “From your messages, I’d assumed you were working a wedding in the city.”
Hugh reached out to brush a strand of damp hair off my forehead and wound up tangling his fingers at the crown of my head. “And I thought yours was overseas.”
I shook my head gently, not wanting to displace his hand. “I got home late last night and spent today trying to catch up. Then, I had a meeting with Chuckie this afternoon so he could demonstrate some upgrades he made to his invention. It went longer than I expected, which is why I was late.”
Hugh’s eyes softened. “How’d that go? Did anything get accidentally incinerated?” he asked teasingly.
“Nah, but he wanted to ask me about another idea he has, and he was so damned excited about it I couldn’t cut him off to leave on time.” Not to mention, feeling that zing of excitement over a new project had reminded me of the way I’d felt when I’d first started my company. It was fulfilling. A lot like lying here with Hugh.
But I didn’t need to spend too much time dwelling on how fulfilling that felt. Dwelling led to dangerous things, like feelings.
Changing the subject, I asked, “So, how are you doing? Last time we talked, you were…”
“Drunk off my ass?” Hugh’s smile lost some of its luster as he glanced away. “I’m okay. I realized earlier today that I feel more embarrassed than heartbroken, which is a pretty good sign Louis wasn’t The One. I guess it was pretty stupid of me to think a divorce attorney could fall for a romantic, huh?”
“Hey,” I said, taking his chin in my hands and turning his head until his eyes found mine. “Louis is an idiot,” I told him. “You’re an amazing person, Hugh Linzee. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel otherwise.”
“Am I?” His smile dimmed. “You must think I’m the worst kind of fool to keep putting my heart out there all the time. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to be more like you, and?—”
“No,” I said, more forcefully than I’d intended. “No. I’ve told you before, you’re braver and stronger than I could ever be. And I mean that. I’ve dated a lot of men—and don’t you dare make a comment about it being half the gay population of New York because it is not,” I added.
As I’d known he would, Hugh smiled softly.
“But I’ve never fallen in love. Not really. Not the kind of love that Wells, and Roman, and James have each found. Not the kind that made me rearrange all my priorities and make someone the center of my life. Not once.” I shrugged. “My friend Boone… he’s the closest I’ve come. And now he’s gone and twisted himself up over the most appalling creature.”
“Richard,” Hugh returned promptly, resting his chin on my chest. “Who sounds a lot like you.”
