Self Preservation (6 page)

Davis settled back into Jack's body as Candace hugged Deseree, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Well, dear,” Candace said, thumbing the lipstick off Deseree's cheek, “for that you will always be welcome in this house.”

“While I can take the credit,” Deseree said, looking over at Jack and Davis, “something tells me these two would have found one another without me. They were so glued together in college it would have taken the jaws of life to separate them.”

Davis smiled and winked at Des. He turned to Candace. “I'm sure you've heard of her. Deseree Wildwood…fashion designer.”

“Of course, I saw the piece the Style Network did on you,” Candace said, taking Deseree by the arm. “Jack, why don't you show Davis to his room, and I'll take Ms. Wildwood to hers…girl talk.”

“Call me Des.” She picked up a bag as Candace walked her toward the hall.

“Des, let's talk shoes.”

“My favorite subject.” Deseree beamed.

As the two of them disappeared down the hall, Jack threw one of Davis's hanging bags over his shoulder and picked up two of his suitcases. “Do you think you can handle the other two?” Jack asked.

Davis shot Jack a disapproving look as he picked up his other two bags. He followed Jack down the hall, stopping as if by instinct at the first door. Jack's bedroom. It used to be
their
bedroom, Davis thought, as a slight pang in his chest made it momentarily difficult to catch his breath. He thought about the time the two of them had spent holed up in there, talking and laughing—how he'd almost wound up with a concussion from banging his head into the massive, solid wood headboard over and over the first time Jack fucked him on that bed. Davis noticed Jack had disappeared down the hall and ran to catch up.

“Just how long were you planning to stay?” Jack asked, as he shifted the luggage in his hands. “You have enough luggage here for three people.”

“Well, you never know, Jack.” Davis walked into the guest room as Jack set the bags on the floor. “I've learned life tends to throw you a lot of curves. I like to be prepared for anything.”

“Oh, I see.” Jack winked. “The boy from the Ozarks has come to wreak havoc and turn the big city on its ear.”

You have no idea
. “I like to keep my options open,” Davis said, walking in front of Jack and bending to set his bags on the floor. He looked back and caught Jack looking at his ass.

“Why do I get the feeling you have something up your sleeve?” Jack asked, squinting.

“It's practically a see-through shirt,” Davis said, innocently, lifting his arms and folding them behind his head.

“That's it. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were flirting with me,” Jack said with a big grin.

“You would, ego man,” Davis responded. “I think it was you who was just checking out my ass. I'm just being me. Do you think you can handle that?”

Jack smiled as his face turned a little red. Busted. He moved close to Davis and reached up to grab his chin. Jack looked into Davis's eyes as if searching for something. “Tough guy. I guess I don't have much of a choice.”

“I guess you don't.”

Davis took Jack's hand and removed it from his face, but he didn't loose the hand. He took a step closer.
Kiss me, damn it
, he thought, close enough to feel Jack's breath on his face.

Jack blinked and let go of Davis's hand. “I'm glad…to see you're doing so well.” He took a step back and added, “I was a little worried you might be upset by all of this.”

“Please, Jack. It's not like I've sat around mooning over you.”
I'm lying. I have been mooning!
“If you're happy, I'm happy for you.”

“Great,” Jack said, with a half smile as he turned to walk out the door. “Dinner's in about thirty minutes,” Jack tossed back, rounding the corner. He looked just a little uneasy in his departure.

Fuck me
, Davis thought, letting out a big rush of air as he fell back onto the bed. He closed his eyes and let out a little whimper.
Damn, this sucks ass
. He rolled his head to the side, looking at the wall—the only thing separating him from Jack's bedroom. This room used to be Jack's study. Now it was a guest room. He hated that everything about Candace's apartment had changed. It used to feel like home to him. Now he actually felt like a guest—
was
a guest—and he didn't like it one little bit.

For holidays and summer breaks, he and Jack had always stayed with Candace in Chicago. At first, Davis did it to avoid having the big coming-out discussion with his parents. He always found some excuse for why he was unable go home: work, intersession classes, whatever. After the first visit to Chicago, though, Candace and Davis had their own love affair of sorts. She was the type of mother for whom you'd date a guy just to spend more time with her. Over the summers, the three of them did everything together. Davis always felt Candace had been relieved Jack was gay. In her mind, she felt as though she would never lose her son to another woman the way she had lost Jack's father. Candace never spoke about Jack's father, but Davis always felt it was a very painful part of her life.

Davis rolled over onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He let out a whimper as he pulled himself up off the bed to head back into the apartment for dinner.

Davis leaned back in his chair, stealing glances at Jack as Deseree and Candace conversed. The remnants of dinner still lay on the dining room table and Jack poured himself some coffee. Jack filled Davis's cup with the steaming liquid. He smiled at Davis, giving him a wink, and Davis smiled in turn into the half-empty glass as he took another sip of wine.

“Was your flight okay?” Candace asked, looking at Deseree. “I forgot to ask earlier.”

“Yeah,” Deseree answered, tapping the handle of her spoon with her nail. “Especially for Davis.”

Davis looked at Deseree and smiled weakly, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

“There was this really hot businessman on the plane flirting shamelessly with him,” Deseree said with a grin.

Davis laughed nervously and took a big sip of wine. He noticed Jack's ears perk up as he placed his coffee cup down and looked over at Davis.

“He was with some big production company in Hollywood, wasn't he?” Deseree asked, looking at Davis. “What was it he said to you?”

“I…” Davis started, clueless about what he was supposed to add to the growing lie. “I don't think this is the time…”

“He's so modest,” Deseree continued. “The guy hands him his business card, telling Davis he'd love to fly him out to LA whenever he wants.”

Candace leaned forward and placed an arm on the table. “Aren't you just the little tartlet?”

“Well, you know,” Davis said, his face burning slightly, “these things happen.”

“My monkey face has turned into a little pimp daddy,” Jack said with a half smile.

“Okay.” Deseree laid her arms on the table. “So what's with the monkey face? I've never understood this little term of endearment.”

“It's nothing.” Davis smiled, as he and Jack looked at one another. “One of the first movies we ever saw together was some old black-and-white Hitchcock film with Cary Grant and…shoot…um, Joan something…Fontaine!”

“
Suspicion
,” Jack said, taking a sip of coffee and his eyes away from Davis.

Davis's gaze drifted down to his wineglass, smile fading a bit. “Yeah, that was it.”

“I vaguely remember that one,” Candace said, looking between the two men.

“And monkey face?” Deseree asked.

“That was Cary's pet name for Joan in the movie,” Jack explained, looking back over at Davis.

“Well, that's not at all rude,” Deseree said a little loudly in an attempt to snap Davis out of his haze. “I'd smack the hell out of a guy if he called me that.”

Jack reached over and touched Davis's hand. Davis looked up at him, then to Candace and Deseree. “No…it was sweet,” he said as his eyes began to well up. He smiled and let out a little laugh, feeling Jack squeeze his hand. “I guess you probably shouldn't call me monkey face anymore.”

“Why not?”

“You're getting married,” Davis answered, withdrawing his hand from Jack's and pouring some cream into his coffee.

Deseree was examining Davis as if wondering what the hell he was doing. She turned her attention to Jack, who seemed a little stunned.

Jack pulled his hand back. “So what? I've always called you monkey face.”

“I don't think your new husband would probably appreciate it, Jack.” Davis stirred his coffee. “I know I wouldn't like it if the situation were reversed.”

“Oh,” Jack said, with a slight sting to the expression on his face. He looked at Candace. Her expression said that she agreed with Davis. “I see. I hadn't really thought of that.”

“Deseree, is your wine okay?” Candace asked. “You've barely touched it.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Deseree answered with a big smile. She seemed happy the subject had been changed. “I'm saving myself for the party.”

Jack looked away from Davis and smiled at her. “Please, you could drink us all under the table.”

“And have many times,” Davis said, composing himself.

“Boys, stop it,” Deseree said in her flirty tone. “You insinuate I need a trip to the Betty.”

Candace laughed as she got out of her chair and picked up the plates in front of her. “Speaking of the party, it's just about time for this gal to pull a wardrobe change.”

“Let me help,” Deseree said, grabbing up her own dishes along with Davis's and following Candace into the kitchen.

Davis and Jack sat in silence for a moment before Davis got up. He faced Jack and smiled. “Well…guess I'll go run through the shower. Wash the day off me.”

Jack spun around in his seat and opened his mouth to say something, only to stop himself. He crinkled up his forehead as he watched Davis disappear out of the room. “You'll always be my monkey face,” he murmured. He let out a frustrated sigh as he got out of the chair, gathered up his dishes, and headed into the kitchen.

* * *

Deseree peeked out of her bedroom door, looking up and down the hall. She crept out of her room, quietly shutting the door behind her, and crossed the hall into Davis's room. “Are you okay?” she asked. He was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall, with a towel wrapped around his waist. She shut the door and walked toward him.

Davis glanced up at her and smiled as he stood up. “I'm fine. You look incredible.”

She winked and twirled in a circle as Davis let his eyes move up and down her body. Pumped up to Jesus with her typical ridiculously high-heeled shoes, her long legs were bare and she was wearing a simple, tight little cocktail dress in a large black-and-white print that fell several inches above her knees. There were clusters of silver necklaces in various lengths dangling from her neck. Her hair was pulled back tight with her curly locks loosely bound on the back of her head, showing off her long neck and the delicate features of her face. Her skin was shiny and sun-kissed.

She giggled as she made her way over to the closet and began sorting through Davis's new clothes. She pulled out a cream-colored suit with a long, trenchlike jacket that hung about halfway down his thighs. She paired it with a formfitting light blue silk shirt that she told him to leave untucked.

Deseree went into the connecting bathroom to do a last-minute check of her makeup. Davis ripped off his towel and snatched a pair of white boxer briefs off the bed. He leaned over to slip his feet into them as Jack opened the door without knocking.

“Damn.” A smile spread across Jack's face. “I always did have great timing.”

Davis yanked the briefs up and whirled around to look at Jack. His entire body flushed with heat. He shuffled his feet and laughed nervously. “That does seem to be your special gift.”

Jack looked incredibly hot in jeans and a black jacket with a tight black T-shirt underneath. Davis let his gaze settle over his stomach, thinking about the tight abs underneath the shirt.

Deseree poked her head out of the bathroom. “Hey, Jack.”

“If only every evening could start out this way.” Jack waved at her without taking his eyes off Davis. “I came to see if you're ready to go.”

“Almost,” Davis said, running his thumb under the elastic waistband, resisting the urge to tell him every evening could start this way if he'd just call off this farce of a wedding. He reached down and picked the pants up off the bed, then slid them on.

“You look great,” Jack observed as Davis continued to dress.

“You think?” Davis decided on a bold response. “Well, it's been a while since you've seen me naked, I guess.” As he pulled on his shirt, Deseree sidled over and tucked the tag that they'd missed removing into the collar. Davis looked at her as if to say,
thank you
.

Deseree winked at him “I'm going to go grab my purse. Meet you at the door.”

Jack stepped up to Davis and reached out, then pulled his shirt closed as he began buttoning it for him. “I think just about every inch of your body is burned into my brain.” Jack gazed into Davis's eyes. “No amount of time is ever going to erase that from my memory.”

Davis watched Jack's face and felt his cock stir between his legs. He wanted desperately to lean in and kiss him. Instead, he cleared his throat. “You always did have a great memory.”

Jack picked the jacket up off the bed as Davis ran his belt through the loops of his pants. He buckled it and held on to Jack's shoulder for balance as he slid into his new soft leather shoes. Jack held the jacket as Davis slipped it on, and Davis turned to face him, smiling. Jack leaned in and gave Davis a peck on the forehead. Davis wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, and Jack pulled Davis tight to him.

“Missed you, monkey f—” Jack said, stopping himself as Davis sighed, relaxing into him.

“Boys!” Candace called from down the hall. “We're going to be late!”

They separated, and Jack grabbed Davis by the chin. He winked at Davis, turning him toward the door. Jack swatted him on the ass. “Let's go.”

Davis smiled. He'd known that Jack would find a way to touch his ass. He never could keep his hands off it.

As the four of them rode downstairs in the elevator, Davis examined Jack's demeanor reflected in the shiny metal doors. Deseree and Candace complimented one another on their outfits as Jack stood in place, looking forward without speaking. Davis averted his eyes and watched the numbers light up on the panel as they passed each floor. It had been just over a year since Davis had last seen Jack. That had also been the last time he'd seen Deseree. He smiled, remembering how great that night was, and how he'd fooled himself into thinking things would go back to the way they used to be.