Page 12 of Sapphire Storm

“Thanks, but, um, to be honest, I’m not really a big fan of,like, casual sex.”

“’Course not. You never dresscasual.Makes sense you wouldn’tundresscasual either.” Scott gave him a lookand waggled his eyebrows.

“Watch the road. That wasactually kindof funny, though.”

“What? Like you’re surprised?”

Roman was surprised, but rather than saying so, he justsmiled. The more he and Scott chatted casually, the more his actions atSapphire Cove earlier that night seemed unacceptable. Like some brief trip intoa nightmare alternate reality where he’d turned into a character from a rerunof Diana’s old show. This was his normal life—being whisked off to a priceydinner he wouldn’t have to pay for, rich people telling him he was hot,speeding up and down PCH with the warm ocean wind blowing through his hair.Everything was fine, amazing even. Why’d hehaveto goand almost ruin it by confronting his dead dad’s side piece?

Escort,he corrected himself. The word felt new andstrange inside his head, like the buzz of a crop duster wheeling through thelandscape of his past, peppering old truths with something that eitherconcealed them or killed them—he wasn’t sure which.

At a red light, Scott turned to him and asked, “So do youlike to get fucked?”

“Excuse me?”

“This is what I mean. I want you to be able to talk to me.”

“About sex?”

“No, just guy stuff, you know. We’re both guys, Roman.”

“I might be a guy, but I don’t want to hear about your sexlife with my best friend.”

The light changed. Scott accelerated with a grin. In aninstant, they’d roared through Laguna’s downtown, a little maze of narrow,tourist-thronged sidewalks that sat level with the beach on a coast dominatedby bluffs. As they headed north alongside the dark, hilly expanse of Crystal CoveState Park, Scott said, “You need to relax, Freestyle. You’re, like, this hot,young kid whose whole life is being taken care of. You shouldn’t be wound sotight. You should be out having fun. Like all the time.”

“Diana doesn’t take care of mywholelife.”

Scott sputtered with laughter. “She takes care of yourhouse, your car, and your clothes. In California, that’s your whole life.”

Roman felt his cheeks blaze, heard Ethan Blake’s angryparting words.

Yet yet yet yet.

In the beginning, it had felt like a consolation prize.Right around the time his mother died, Rachel had landed the Broadway play thatwould eventually win her a Tony. He’d figured their trainer/client relationshipwould end as soon as she flew east. Instead, she’d gracefully passed him off toher mom. Diana, it turned out, had taken a shine to him after their few dinnerstogether and offered to take him on once Rachel left town. First she broughthim on for training sessions—so many and at such a good rate he was able togive his notice at Apex West Hollywood—then she gave him a plum gig as live-incaretaker for the Castle by the Sea. It had felt like a fix up, but a chasteand miraculous one, Rachel’s way of ensuring Roman was taken care of in herabsence. A new family at the very moment the last member of his old one passedaway. That’s how Diana had described it to him, at least. In the moment, hisheart had sung and his eyes had welled up as they embraced.

And despite Ethan Blake’s insinuations, it had felt like achaste embrace.

Not once had he assumed Diana’s motives might be sexual. Notonce had her hand lingered on his ass or her kisses on the cheek landeduncomfortably close to his lips.

But what did he know?

He was just some dumb kid, while Ethan Blake was older andwiser and had been paid for sex all over the world.

“Aw,shit. Freestyle, come on. I’msorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I had a weird night, that’s all.”

“With your secret boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a secret boyfriend.”

Scott nodded, then, after a long silence, he added, “Good.”

No,Roman thought,don’t even go there. That’snot what this is. That’s not what he’s doing. There’s no way.

Scott turned into the brightly lit parking lot of Diana’sfavorite restaurant. The building was a one-story sprawl of blond wood withpotted Italian cypresses along the front wall and pin-spot lighting framing theentrance. When the hostess saw them approaching, she got the skip in her stepRoman had come to recognize as excitement over a celebrity’s imminent arrival.Beaming, she led them to Diana’s favorite table, a round top in the far cornerof the garden area underneath spindly faux-candle chandeliers.

Heart hammering, his hands shook as he took his menu.

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