Page 17 of Hollywood Crush

“I would never have guessed.”

We walked in silence for another minute. “Do you actually want us to forget what happened? Go back to nothing?”

“God no,” I blurted before I could stop myself. I was once again keenly aware that we were still holding hands and how nice it felt. “Sex with you was…something else. It was great. And I don’t get to do that much.”

“Me neither. I don’t know from one minute to the next who’s going to leak an affair to the press, or sell pictures of me whilst I sleep.”

“That’s gross, and I’d never do that to you. I’vegot strong morals…and also I had to sign an NDA with my contract. Can’t spill any juicy goss from the divas up at the hotel.”

“Not even Marjorie’s marshmallow fetish?”

“Fetish?We just thought she was eating a box a day. You’re meaning to tell me she-”

“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want to know. The truth is more disturbing than anything you can possibly imagine. I walked in on her in her trailer with a marshmallow stuck up her-”

“-No. That’s enough. I don’t need to know any more.”

The garage was coming into view now, a slightly run down shack just off the beaten track. It was an eyesore, but the parish council didn’t bother with it because it was so far out from the town proper.

We stepped over the low wall of tyres in unison and Daniel dropped my hand. It hurt a little bit, but at least I knew why now and I could tamp down the sting with some rational thoughts.

“Alun!” I shouted. There was no reply. I stuck my head in through the car entrance. The garage was dark at the back and I could see very little. “Alun!”

“Alun’s out with Alaw, canoodling on the beach or whatever it is straight people get up to these days.” A figure detached itself from the darkness. Instead of Alun, it was Macsen, his one-time apprentice and now right hand man. His overalls were tied around his stomach and he worse a vest that revealed the extent of his many tattoos. Hewas wiping down greasy hands on a rag that he threw aside and held out a hand for Daniel to shake. Daniel looked bemused before he took it.

“I think the last time we had anyone remotely close to a celebrity in this village it was the Welsh Poet Laureate,” he said. “Had all the old ladies creaming their knickers. Now I think it’s all of us gays who are doing that.”

“My god, Mac,” I shook my head. He was 25 years old, and his confidence often crossed a line into cockiness.

“What? Just saying.” He looked Daniel up and down like a piece of meat. Some would say that Macsen was attractive - he was muscular and wiry after years spent lifting tyres and heavy equipment, and was tattooed all over his arms. I didn’t know actually how many tattoos he had or where they stopped and I suspected I might be one of the village’s few gay men who could attest to that. I preferred my men a little more clean cut, prim and proper. And not as bloody cocky.

I stepped slightly between Macsen and Daniel as I held out the cheque. “Alun said it had passed its MOT?” I asked.

“Yup, this should cover it.” Max took the cheque and went to the back of the garage and came back with a hand-written receipt and keys. “All your documents are in the glove box.”

I nodded my thanks and turned to go. “I hope to see you around, Mr Ellison,” said Macsen.

“It was…” Daniel hesitated like he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “…a pleasure meeting you.”

The van sat just outside. It was a garish yellow with the hotel’s name emblazoned on the side. Mam had bought it when she first came into possession of the hotel and it had somehow survived the intervening 30-odd years with just a couple of catastrophic failures. We couldn’t afford for it to break down completely.

“Sorry, I guess you’re used to chauffeurs. Just me and Fran the Van today,” I said.

“Fran?”

“Don’t you name your car? Fran is basically part of the family.”

“I’ve never learned to drive. Doesn’t seem worth it, living in Manchester and being driven whenever I’m on set.”

“I’ll teach you some time,” I joked. We both clambered into the van, and sat without a word as I turned the engine on with a stutter and pulled out into the country lane.

It was Daniel who broke the silence. “I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but…what do we do going forward?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not one for hook-ups, but I’d have you again if you asked. And I want you. And I like you. And…”And I need you.

“Yes. All of that.” Daniel rubbed his hands together and when I looked over briefly I could seehe was chewing his lip, a rare open show of anxiety from the film star. “I guess…I don’t do permanence. But I want something that lasts more than one night. If that makes sense?”

“Not at all,” I said honestly.

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