Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Does that mean I don’t have to hide from them?” Jordan whispers. Loudly.
Denver laughs. “Take a seat. Mason and I were about to have a writing sesh, but you’re more than welcome to make yourself at home.”
Jordan doesn’t hesitate to throw himself on the couch. “Mmm, this is comfy.”
“Need a hand with writing?” I ask, but I don’t really know how much I can contribute. I’m not really the songwriting star out of us. Or the best singer.
I’m the least talented out of all of the Eleven guys, the one grasping on to fame any way he can. I’ve been lucky in that my career was able to successfully go another direction, but being back with these guys, I’ve definitely missed it. Jamming with them and hanging out gives me a constant hit of nostalgia that’s all happy and warm.
“You can join us if you want. Or look after Jordan. It’s up to you,” Denver says.
Jordan’s phone in my hand rings, and his assistant’s name appears on the screen.
I hold it up. “Looks like I’m choosing the Jordan thing.” By default. Because he’s sleeping it off on the couch. It didn’t take him long to pass out.
I turn my back on them and answer the phone. “Hey, Jojo, it’s Blake. Jordan, uh, gave me his phone.”
Her voice comes on the line. “He usually does that to me. Where are you guys?”
“Hiding at a friend’s place.” I don’t mean to be vague or untrusting, but being in this business for ten years, I learned the fewer people who know where you are, the less chance of a leak to a tabloid.
“The studio sent through an official announcement about the movie being put on hold. Did your agent call you?”
I run a hand through my hair. “I haven’t even had a chance to look at my phone. I’ve been … busy.”
“Talk to your agent, but I think you’ve probably got the right idea. Jordan’s has already called a billion times asking where he is.”
“Right idea?”
“You both have a few weeks where you can hide from the spotlight until your cheating scandal is over.”
“Don’t you mean Ben’s cheating scandal?”
“Uh, no. The photo of you and Jordan holding hands while his director boyfriend is in the hospital has rumors running rampant.”
This is bad. Ben can spin the narrative and be seen as the sympathetic one.
“He cheated first,” I say.
The argument that Jordan and I aren’t even remotely together won’t fly. The public won’t believe the denial anyway. A picture is worth a thousand words. That’s what we were told constantly by PR people when we hit it big. They were lenient on what we did, consumed, who we had sex with, so long as we never forgot the golden rule: don’t get photographed.
“How’s Jordan holding up? I never liked Ben, but it’s not like I could say that to my boss.”
“He’s … I don’t know. How does he usually handle stress? He’s passed out in the middle of the afternoon.”
“That poor guy doesn’t know the meaning of stress, so I’d say he’s on par with expectations.”
“That’s something at least. I’m going to go and call my agent. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Tell Jordan to call his too so he’ll stop hounding me.”
“I’ll get him to call as soon as he’s not slurring his words.”
And he’s awake. “I’m not slurrying the worlds.” His mumbled protest is weak.
“Good luck,” Jojo sings at me.
“Thanks.” I’m going to need it.
I end the call and turn back around, surprised to find Denver and Mason still there. They stare at me in that brotherly way. We always had each other’s backs, but when we split, we all broke off in different directions, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel weird in their orbit again. It’s good to be back, but weird … definitely weird. It’s like no time has passed.
“What’s going on?” Mason asks.
“Movie’s been put on hold until Ben gets better. And …” I frown. “I think I was just outed?”
In unison, their eyebrows shoot up.
“I’m not,” I protest. “In the closet, I mean. I’m not even …” I take a deep breath. “Rewind, let’s start that over. Jordan and I were photographed today holding hands. The media is already running with the narrative that Ben wasn’t the one who cheated, Jordan was. With me.”
And even though the story is complete bullshit, that doesn’t matter. This type of thing is only one of the reasons why Harley and Ryder are still closeted. Because when a secret is leaked, there’s no controlling which way it will land. You can try, but once it’s out there, it’s unstoppable.
“Damn,” Denver says. “That’s a mess.”
“What do I do?”
They look at each other, and it’s as if I can read their minds. Who could help me in a PR crisis better than someone who has spun so many PR stories to go in his favor so his sexuality has remained a secret for an entire decade?