10. Nikos

10

NIKOS

It's been thirty-six hours since I last saw Honey, and I can't stop thinking about him. I don't bother trying to, either. Because of this, it has also been thirty-six hours since I last had a drink.

I haven't once thought to open the minibar now that I'm back in the luxury hotel in London. Not once.

Selina is down in the spa, enjoying a well-deserved morning off. She's tried to entice me into a few treatments to ‘loosen me up', but the thought of having another person's hands on me, whether sexual or not, makes me shiver.

Honey had touched me last. I want to keep it that way.

I check my watch and read the hands pointing close to midday. As per the schedule in my calendar, in twenty minutes a driver is coming to collect us for an afternoon of filming content at the book publisher. My punishment for leaving the premier is haunting me, the studio filling our schedule with as much press as possible - literally squeezing the lemon dry.

The only thing I want to do is make it through the day to five pm. Because, according to Google, the average London work hours finish at five. Which means Honey will be leaving his job and heading home.

I may not know his name, his number, even his favourite colour - but I know where he lives. Creepy or not, I need to see him. To explain myself, but also to ask him not to tell anyone about what happened between us.

I'd be lying to myself if I wasn't worried. Even now, as I stand waiting for the next twenty minutes to pass, I'm checking socials for any mention of Nikos Ridge one night stand, a steamy night of passion with a fan…etc, etc. Every time I check, my heart is in my throat, until I find nothing but film reviews and the countless messages calling me daddy or asking me to mount them like a dragon.

There's only one person I wish to mount, and even I know that ship has sailed. Regardless if Honey has worked out my true identify or not, I can't afford to act so carelessly. It isn't only my reputation on the line, but Selina's and my entire team's.

Not to mention the most common message I'm seeing is about a petition for a second film. That idea alone is enough to make me feel sick.

My contract with the studio was for one film and one film only. Regardless of the demand from fans, the money offered, I can't do it. I won't. Because the more money and fame I'm offered, the more I have that can be taken away from me again.

I shut off my phone screen, pocketing the phone as thoughts of Honey quickly melt to my father.

It's been almost two full days since I saw him at the film premier. The silence that followed has been long and excruciating. It's only a matter of time until he worms his way out of the woodwork and explains what, exactly, his ominous words meant.

A wave of anxiety breaks over me. But before I'm swallowed by it, I take out the post-it note and fiddle with the frayed paper. The feel of the dull edges against my hands stills the worry enough to think straight.

I don't release the post-it note until Selina texts me, letting me know she's in the lobby and that the car is waiting outside for us. I adorn my mask, leaving the scared child behind me as I step out of the hotel as Nikos Ridge - the man whose life is perfect, until you look close enough to see the fucking cracks.

I don't know what I expected to find at a book publishing office, but what waits for me in the main entrance was not what I could've ever imagined.

A front desk is glowing with string light spelling out Sky High Press. Behind it is a wall framed with books, the most recognisable being the original cover of An Age of Dragons beside the new movie-tie in editions which I'm on, unrecognisable as Armin Wolfe, dressed in leather pants with nipples on full display.

But that's not what captures my attention.

‘Honey?' I exhale the name, eyes fixed on the man half-stood, half-leant up against the front desk. He's inspecting his nails as Selina and I enter. No, not his nails - a post-it note.

My post-it note.

I can see from his stare that he's lost to a memory, no doubt the same one that has haunted me for every second of the day since we parted.

It takes him a moment to hear me, or register the name I used. But when Honey looks up, his eyes flaring wide and mouth parting, I swear my groin aches.

Selina is shaking the hand of a beautiful woman who introduces herself as Megan. If not for being so focused on Honey, I would pay more attention to the way their handshake lasts longer than it needs to. Or the glittering interest filling my manager's stare.

‘Welcome to Sky High Press,' Honey says, his voice devoid of emotion. He hardly looks at me, even though I cannot take my eyes off him. My body refuses to move forwards a step and take his outstretched hand.

We greet each other like strangers.

‘Nikos,' Megan says, eyes looking between me and Honey with a hint of expectance. ‘It is so lovely to have you stop by. Thanks for taking time out of your - no doubt busy - schedule for this.'

It's rude of me to ignore her, but I just cannot take my eyes off of Honey.

Honey still has his hand outstretched. He's seconds from lowering it before I strike out and take it. ‘Hello.'

‘Nice to meet you, Nikos Ridge,' Honey says, his reaction suggesting this interaction is not a surprise to him, as it is to me.

So he had worked out my truth. A spark of distrust ebbs into me. Maybe he always knew, and he was playing me, using me like everyone else does. But then I see him shoving the the post-it note in his other hand into his pocket, and I know he's angry.

‘And you,' I reply softly. Selina is staring daggers into the side of my face, and I can tell she's trying to work out why I've left my confident bravado back in the car. ‘Can I have your name?'

Honey actually contemplates this. I see the wheels turning behind his eyes. I almost expect him to refuse me, but when he speaks, I feel as though I've just been handed the secrets to the universe.

‘Oli,' he says.

‘It's lovely to meet you, Oli.'

I long to lean in, pull him to me and inhale his scent. I have to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from telling him that, as much as the name is lovely, I still prefer Honey.

‘Well,' Megan says awkwardly. ‘Shall we get on with preparing the content? I'm sure you don't want to be hanging out with us all afternoon, not when you have all of London to explore.'

‘Good idea,' Selina adds, equally noticing the tension hovering around the reception. Even the worker behind the desk is peering over the tip of her rounded glasses, thin lips quirked into a grin.

‘There's no rush,' I add, finally releasing Honey's - Oli's hand. ‘There's nowhere else I'd rather be then here.'

Selina barks a laugh. ‘Ever the charmer.'

‘Indeed,' I say, hoping Oli knows my comment is for him and him alone.

There is so much I want to say but can't. Not with the audience. But I also know I cannot go an entire afternoon wading in this sea of tension. I have to speak with Oli. I just need an out which won't make Selina and Megan ask questions.

Apparently Megan can read minds, because she offers one. ‘Oli, do you mind taking Nikos straight to the audio department? Selina, if you don't mind, I would like to run over the schedule for the afternoon with you before we begin.'

Oli snaps his attention to his colleague, clear annoyance evident in his eyes. But before he can refuse - and it's clear he wants to - Selina speaks up. ‘Sounds like a plan. Although, for fear I will sound like a demanding diva, can I ask that some refreshments are brought to the room? I fell asleep on the massage table this morning and missed lunch.'

I know Selina well enough now to hear the flirtatious tone in her voice. That and the way her hand lays itself on Megan's upper arm, gently guiding her and the conversation down the path she desires.

‘I can do that,' Megan says with a smile, before shooting Oli a look. ‘I'll meet you in room A10, okay?'

Oli nods hesitantly, before turning on his heel and beckoning for me to follow him. I do as he gestures, chasing his heels like the desperate puppy I am. Selina doesn't even pay me mind as she heads in another direction with Megan, both engaging in conversation as if nothing else in the world matters.

This is my chance.

Oli stops before the entrance to a lift, pressing the call button until it lights up with a red glow. I stand at his side, aware of the countless people watching on from a distance. But nothing else seems to matter when his arm is inches from brushing my side.

‘You're angry with me,' I accuse as the metal doors slide open and a crowd of surprised people walk out.

Oli doesn't reply until everyone is out of earshot. He steps into the lift, lips so tense that they're practically white on his face. I follow in, and Oli presses yet another button. The doors slide closed, locking us away.

Only when they seal closed does he reply. ‘So, you're Nikos Ridge.'

I laugh because it's easier to fall into humour when I'm feeling awkward. ‘I am, although I'd prefer if you still called me Adonis.'

‘Why?' Oli bites out.

I gape like a fish out of water, unsure how to explain that the hours I spent as Adonis were the easiest of my life for as long as I can remember. No expectations, no past or future. As Adonis I'm allowed to exist only in the moment.

‘Because I prefer it,' I reply, pathetically.

‘Well, I prefer not being tricked and lied to.'

My hands wring together, giving them something to do. ‘It wasn't my intention.'

Oli exhales a long breath. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't.

‘I gather you already knew,' I say. ‘So what's the issue?'

He turns on me. We're so close I'm forced to look down at him. His pale hair is swept back with product, his knitted cardigan practically slipping off his left shoulder. I notice how his shirt - which is more grey than white - is likely a result of him not separating his clothes out when washing them. I like that. I like that he doesn't care. Most of all, I like how I see my warped reflection in his round glasses.

‘I'm not annoyed at you,' he says with a tone that suggests he's definitely lying. ‘I'm annoyed at the situation.'

‘And the situation is…?'

Oli steps in so close I can smell the light perfume he wears. I take a deep breath in, hoping to etch the smell across my bones.

‘That two nights ago I had one of the best nights of my life, and it was with…you.'

‘That sounds an awful lot like regret.'

‘Not regret,' Oli adds. ‘I just know it can never happen again. So imagine my surprise when Megan shows me your face on an interview, and I find out it was the same face buried in my arse the other night.'

‘Is that why Megan sent us away, because she knows?'

Oli hesitates, reading the panic that no doubt shines in my eyes. ‘Don't worry, she won't tell anyone.'

‘And what about you? Are you going to let the world know of my dirty secret?'

I regret the words as soon as I say them. Oli rocks back a step, pressing himself as far away from me as the lift allows. I step forwards, reaching out to grab his arms. ‘I didn't mean that - '

‘You don't need to explain yourself,' Oli says, turning his back to me, arms crossed. ‘I get it.'

I don't know what makes me do it, but I reach towards the wall of buttons and press the one that reads emergency stop. Just as I intended, the lift comes to a halt.

‘What are you doing?' Oli snaps.

‘Apologising,' I say before I close into him, turn his body so it faces me. I lean my hips into his, press his spine into the metal wall. And then I kiss him.

My hands thread on either side of his face, tangling in his hair. He tastes as I remembered, sweet as his nickname. I feel myself growing hard against his body, his warmth. I know he can likely feel it too, the way my body pins him to the wall, my tongue working to open his mouth and explore him.

I regret not shaving this morning as my coarse hairs brush across Oli's soft chin. When I finally pull back, I brush my thumb over his pink lips, clearing away the spit I left behind.

The way Oli looks up at me, cheeks flushed and eyes blinking, I swear I want to tear his denim jeans off and bury myself in him. ‘What…what was that for?'

‘I didn't mean to call you a dirty secret,' I fumble over my words. ‘It's not the you part which is dirty, more the secret, and I…I don't know how to say it without sounding like a prick, but - '

Oli leans up on his tiptoes and silences me with another kiss. This one is harder, more frantic and desperate. He threads his arms behind my head and holds me to him. My hands reach down for his thigh and lifts it up. I've almost got him hooked around my hips when he's the one to pull away.

‘I get it,' Oli says, breathless and lips swollen. ‘Your dirty little secret is safe with me.'

‘Is it?' I question.

‘Don't you trust me, Adonis?'

‘Should I, Honey?'

With the back of his sleeve, he wipes his mouth and then reaches and does the same for me. ‘I suppose you'll just have to find out.'

He presses the button to get the lift moving again, and I almost fall to my knees to plead for just a few more moments of this existence. But alas, life must go on.

We both gather ourselves, straightening our clothing like we're in some kind of rom-com movie. I have to reach into my boxers and shift my hard cock to the side. I don't think there is anything that is going to make it soft, not when I can still taste Honey lathered across my tongue.

‘If it is any consolation, I had plans to come to your flat tonight and explains myself,' I say as we shoot up to the upper floors of the building.

‘You were?' I can tell he's surprised from the pitch of his voice. ‘And how were you going to do that?'

I had a plan, and although the outline has shifted with this revelation, I still must see it through.

‘I want to wire you some money,' I say. ‘If you can send me your bank details, I'll put the money into your bank by morning, enough that it should see you over. It's the least I can do for keeping this between us.'

‘Excuse me?'

I peer at him, wondering what I'd said that caused the growl beneath his words.

Oli's eyes are wide, his hands balled at his sides. He refuses to look at me, but I can see he's shaking.

‘Money,' I repeat, trying to work out what was wrong. ‘Hush-hush money you could say. Enough that any newspaper or online site would never be able to - '

‘Fuck you, Nikos Ridge,' Oli splutters as the doors slide open. ‘Fuck. You.'

His voice breaks slightly, enough that the sound works at the web of cracks imprinted across my skin. I feel myself break apart as the sadness echoes around the barren lift. I go to call out for him, but notice the countless heads peaking over desks and around doors. It's natural for me to put my mask back on, but as I watch Oli disappear in the maze of the office, I want nothing more than to stop him.

I don't even know what I've said that upset him. I thought I'd made up for referring to Oli as a dirty secret, and now he's not only angry, but sad. Hurt. And I did that.

It takes me a moment to understand that whilst everyone else expects money from me as Nikos Ridge, Oli doesn't. Because the Nikos Ridge I'm used to is not the person he knows.

I am Adonis in his eyes, and Adonis doesn't pay his way out of his problems.

Adonis, apparently, has to grovel. And for Honey, I will do just that.