Page 9 of Shades of Henry
Henry just regarded him steadily as Lance turned around and took him back through the quad so he could see the gym, the clubhouse, and the pool, all of which were in fairly decent shape, although the gym was small.
“Your brother can get you a membership at the one up the street,” Lance told him. “They’ve got rocking equipment and a personal trainer that’ll blow your socks off. She’s straight, in her fifties, and doesn’t grab your ass—all of which are pluses. But she knows what she’s doing with nutrition too, and we’d die for her.”
Henry let a smile slip. “I may be working out a lot,” he admitted. “But yes and no on the pornotopia?”
“Zeppelin’s a very happy little slut,” Lance conceded. “And Randy will literally go down on you before you say hello. But Billy has a girlfriend and only takes a pity fuck when they’re on the outs. Curtis is pretty job-monogamous. He only films scenes and does the occasional roommate; he doesn’t really have his own lovers. Same here. Cotton is….” Lance let out a sigh. “Cotton’s the one I worry about most because he keeps looking for Mr. Right and he keeps getting Mr. ‘I hear you have a nine-inch dick.’ So we see him making these dates, and then he gets his heart broken. It happens about once a week. There’s a difference between filming a scene and sleeping around. And some of the guys do both and some of them don’t, but finding a guy outside of Johnnies who doesn’t assume we all do it all isn’t easy.”
Henry grunted.
“What?” Lance asked.
“I’m going to have to take your word on it,” he said.
And while part of Lance prickled—because what a dick!—a part of him appreciated the straightforwardness. “What? Every guy you’ve ever boned has been true love forever?” Lance asked acerbically.
Henry made a hurt sound then, almost like Lance had kicked him, and for a moment Lance was actually afraid. Was the guy going to deck him for assuming Henry was gay when every vibe he gave off said he was trying not to be? Was he going to protest?
Was he going to tell the truth?
“You said something about pizza?” Henry asked, his voice curiously devoid of any emotion at all.
“Yeah,” Lance said. “But first, look. I don’t care what you think of me, or of sex work, or of the damned apartment, but you need to listen. Because if I can’t get you to agree on this one thing, I’m calling your brother and kicking you out on your ear.”
Henry nodded at him to go on.
“Those kids in there currently buying stock in Kleenex are like my little brothers. They don’t always do the right thing, and they don’t always make me proud, but I love them, and I don’t want them hurt. Don’t say anything that hurts their feelings or makes them feel like crap because they can get that shit at home and that’s why they moved here. Do you understand?”
And then—oh God—the most intense thing happened. Henry’s blue eyes, each one with a faint bruising underneath, like from an old fight, grew bright and red-rimmed and shiny.
“I won’t hurt your little brothers,” he said after a moment, swallowing hard. “David has always done right by me. That’s the least I can do to repay him.”
“David?”Who?“You mean Dex?”
Henry scrubbed at his face with his palm. “I’m not calling him by his porn name,” he said, and Lance blinked.
“Oh my God. Yeah. Right. David.”
“Pizza,” Henry said almost desperately.
“Sure. Pizza.”
THERE WERE, in fact, two cars owned by Johnnies guys. Lance owned one, but he’d managed to find a guest parking spot and he didn’t want to lose it because those were like gold. Billy had the other, and it was in the actual numbered spot with the overhang, and nobody could take that away from him.
Besides, Lance had grabbed Billy’s keys, and since Billy was currently on the outs with his girlfriend and getting laid in Lance’s room, Lance had no problem with stealing his dented Kia and heading for Mountain Mike’s.
Henry looked around the car, at the schoolbooks in the back and the waiter aprons and spare clothes, and grimaced.
“Busy guy.”
“Well, porn only pays well if you’re famous at it,” Lance said. “If you’re in Johnnies’ top twenty, it pays the bills and more. But if you’re one of their workhorse guys, it’s a nice income boost, but it’s not living-on money unless all you do is fuck.”
“Hunh,” Henry said musingly. “I never thought of it that way. So, uh, my brother….”
“Was a fucking superstar,” Lance confirmed. “So was Kane. Usually people don’t last long in the business, though. Maybe a year, sometimes two. It’s a young man’s game, really.”
“You, uh….” Henry shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t look old, but, uh, med school—”
“Student loans, not just mine,” Lance told him, still not wanting to get into the other reasons, the personal reasons, that made porn so seductive, so easy to continue. “And I’m twenty-seven.”
