No Sacrifice Page 34

  “I think that’ll do it,” Jack said quietly. “We’ll break and get ready for the fight scene a little later.”

  Patrick and Angelo both nodded and were grateful when Jack left them alone. Thom came in and left robes for them on the bed, and as soon as he was gone, Patrick sat up and swung his legs over the side. “I’m sorry, Angelo,” Patrick murmured.

  Angelo sat up and put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Jack didn’t need to push this, he really didn’t.”

  Patrick sighed. “Chance is going to be pissed. Sebastian is going to hate me.” He shook his head. “And I don’t blame them.”

  Angelo shook his head too. “No, they won’t. I can speak for Sebastian, okay?” He paused. “Look, we said it earlier—that we’d either be awkward after this or good friends. I think friends won out. But I don’t love you, you don’t love me. We shot a sex scene, stuff happened. End of story. And as for Chance… go to him. I’m sure you’ll be surprised.”

  Patrick looked up. “You think so?”

  Angelo nodded. “Yes. I do.”

  Patrick snatched his robe up and pulled it on. “Thanks.” He paused and looked up at Angelo, who’d stood and started to pull his on too. “I… hope Sebastian’s okay.”

  “He will be. Go.”

  Chapter 18

  Chance was waiting for Patrick just on the other side of the set wall. Patrick didn’t get so much as a foot past it before Chance pulled him in and wrapped both arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” Chance murmured.

  Patrick looked up at him, and Chance couldn’t miss the shock. “You’re… not mad?”

  Chance shook his head. “No.” He reached up and brushed a thumb over Patrick’s cheek. “Let’s just say that I saw enough.” He had, in fact, seen the nuances in Patrick’s expressions to tell him his lover had been very unhappy with what he’d done. The general audience wouldn’t get it, he was sure. But he’d seen enough of Patrick’s moods over the last several months to know what his boyfriend was feeling.

  Patrick closed his eyes and buried his face in Chance’s neck. Chance held him tightly. He hadn’t exactly liked seeing the obvious orgasm on Patrick’s face when he wasn’t the one giving it to Patrick. But the other things he’d seen were enough to temper any real anger he felt.

  Patrick looked up. “I, uh, need a shower. Chrissy isn’t going to be happy about redoing my makeup—”

  “I’ll talk to her. Let’s get you back to your dressing room.” He left a soft kiss on Patrick’s forehead.

  “Doesn’t, uh, Selia need you?”

  “Not right now. Do you want me to leave you alone?” He hadn’t thought that maybe Patrick wanted time to deal with it. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay near Patrick, needed to touch for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, or at least, didn’t want to explain.

  “No, no, I don’t.” Patrick shook his head quickly. He peered up almost shyly. “Kiss me?”

  “Gladly, baby,” Chance said, thrilled for the opportunity to put his own taste back on Patrick’s lips. He took his time, putting all the comfort and reassurance he could into the kiss. He felt the tension melt slowly from Patrick’s body, and when Patrick seemed fully relaxed, Chance pulled back. “Better?”

  Patrick nodded. “Yes, thank you, a ghrá. I… I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

  “Stop that. I love you. You love me. That’s what matters. Let’s get you that shower.” They turned, and Chance walked him back to the dressing rooms. They didn’t speak; Chance just held his hand, offering the support he thought Patrick wanted most.

  When they stopped outside the room, Patrick turned to him. “Do you mind finding Chrissy?”

  Chance shook his head. “No. Would you like to have lunch here? I’ll get some and bring it back.”

  Patrick smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  Chance leaned in and gave him another soft kiss. “Good. Get showered. I’ll be back.

  Patrick was feeling quite a bit better after showering—and cleaning Angelo’s cum off him—and having a quiet, private lunch with Chance. They ate quickly and spent the next fifteen minutes or so simply holding each other, which helped Patrick lose the rest of the worry and frustrations over the morning. He wasn’t thrilled with the afternoon’s scene—he still didn’t enjoy being naked in front of everyone else—but at least he didn’t have to worry about getting aroused, especially when it involved dodging a weapon and keeping said knife away from his genitals.

  The afternoon set wouldn’t be quite as closed as the morning set was. There were still less people than normal in deference to Patrick and Angelo’s continual state of undress, but at least it wasn’t completely open. Selia had Chance helping on the soundboard again, so he was able to be closer than he might have otherwise been, for which Patrick was grateful.

  The fight itself actually went very smoothly. They only had to reset a few times, so Patrick’s nakedness wasn’t too big of a deal. One such instance was more funny than annoying, because Jack actually had to point out they couldn’t see Patrick swinging enough. After the morning, however, any embarrassment Patrick might have felt was pretty much gone. He shook his head, went back to his mark, and tried the kick again. Apparently, his dick swung around enough this time, and Jack was finally satisfied. Patrick was beginning to wonder if Jack wasn’t more bisexual than he was willing to admit.

  Once the fight scene was finally over, there was one more small scene to film. This one had Cyrus and Teman showing up in the aftermath of the fight. Bathasar was going a little crazy that Nadir had protected him, Teman was trying to calm Bathasar down, and Cyrus was supposed to be clingy.

  Which Rhys was doing, in spades.

  The end of the fight scene had Patrick chasing Hemmy out of the room, down a hall, and then to the outside door of that section of the palace. Thankfully, all the portions of the set were very nearby, and he didn’t have to actually go outside while naked. It was shot in pieces as he bolted for the door, then a section in the hallway, and finally one from “outside”—which was nothing more than a lot of lighting on the other side of a fake wall.

  When that part was over, Rhys was supposed to race up and check him over, then pull him in for a hug. It took three takes because Rhys kept hugging him first. Finally, after Rhys had to take a moment to collect himself from a red face, he stopped himself, did the check over he was supposed to, and then wrapped Patrick up in his arms.

  After this, there was a kiss. Unfortunately for Patrick, he was still quite naked. And Rhys didn’t hold a damned thing back. He pulled Patrick in until their legs were threaded, bodies flush against each other, and arms tight around him. The kiss was long, deep and thorough, and full of tongue and emotion.

  Patrick had only partially braced for it. So when Rhys unleashed the full power of it on him, he had a very difficult time fighting it. It took everything Patrick had to keep from reacting and responding to the kiss. But Rhys didn’t make it easy on him.

  He did follow through with running his hands up into Rhys’s hair. He returned the kiss the way he was supposed to for the scene, though he really struggled to separate Nadir from himself. Just when he thought he had it, Jack cut.

  Patrick looked up. “What did we do wrong?”

  “You’re supposed to act like you love him,” Jack grumbled.

  Patrick sighed and glanced up at Rhys, who nodded. “Fine. Sorry.”

  “Okay, the kiss again, please,” Jack said.

  Patrick stepped into Rhys’s arms again, the calls were made, and they started kissing. Rhys once more put everything into it, their tongues sliding, tasting each other, his hands moving over Patrick’s body. Patrick pushed his fingers into Rhys’s hair and leaned into Rhys’s body, letting Nadir take over for the moment.

  Rhys moaned, and Patrick hoped that would mean the end of the kiss, but apparently not. Rhys bucked into him, and he felt Rhys’s hard cock against his own. Despite himself, his cock twitched hard, then started to fi
ll. Finally, they broke apart, both panting, and Rhys gave his line. “You scared me, Nadir. I thought….”

  “Shh,” Patrick whispered loud enough for the boom to pick it up, putting a finger over Rhys’s lips. “I’m fine. Just a little scratch.” He smiled.

  “You were… with His Highness?” Rhys asked, and Patrick, if he didn’t know what was going on, might have felt his heart break at the pain Rhys put into the line.

  But Patrick reminded himself that Nadir was also hurt. “You were with Teman.”

  Rhys leaned back and looked down into Patrick’s face. He cupped one cheek in his palm. “Yes, I was. I…. Nadir….”

  Patrick shook his head. “No, Cyrus. Just… don’t.” He looked away, and Rhys pulled his chin back.

  “I love you, Nadir,” Rhys said, and Patrick’s breath caught. Because, as good of an actor as Rhys was, Patrick was dead positive Cyrus wasn’t really talking to Nadir.

  Patrick forced himself to breathe and reply. “I do love you, Cyrus.”

  Rhys nodded and yanked him in, crushing his lips in a very bruising kiss. Patrick gripped Rhys’s tunic like he was supposed to, and finally Jack called cut.

  But Rhys didn’t let go right away. He hugged Patrick close and whispered in his ear. “I do, you know.”

  Patrick gasped. “Rhys, no, I—”

  “Shh. It’s okay.” He kissed Patrick on the side of the face. “I do, though.” And then he was gone, and Patrick stood alone, staring at the place Rhys had just been, completely floored.

  Well, hell. How did he handle this?

  He wouldn’t have a chance to figure it out right away. That night, Patrick couldn’t wait to get home, get dinner out of the way, and get Avery into bed. He needed time alone with Chance. Sex came first—they’d both needed that, very badly—but when it was over and Chance was wrapped around Patrick, it was time to talk.

  “I thought there might be something with Rhys.” Chance frowned, holding their clasped hands up and kissing Patrick’s knuckles.

  Patrick sighed. “I’d hoped that after he saw us together, he’d realize. I mean… the thing is, I don’t think he actually does love me or anything.” Patrick shook his head in frustration. “I just don’t know what’s going on with him.”

  Chance dropped a kiss on the top of Patrick’s head, and Patrick rolled and settled in facing Chance. “I’m not so sure, baby. It’s easy to love you.”

  Patrick rolled his eyes. “You’re biased.”

  With a shrug, Chance kissed him. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the truth of the matter. And anyway, it doesn’t really make a difference, does it? Whether he really does or not? He believes it. I think the only thing you can do is just remind him you’re taken by a sexy god of a man”—Patrick laughed and Chance grinned—“and that you don’t feel the same way about him.”

  Patrick dropped a kiss on Chance’s chest. “I hope it works. I hate that I dread going in to the studio.”

  Chance said nothing, only kissed him again, and Patrick knew it was because there wasn’t anything more to say.

  The next few episodes were set up in a series of scenes that involved being around a lot of other people. The only times Patrick and Rhys were together involved them holding hands or sitting with their arms around each other, but nothing else—and especially nothing sexual. And their kisses totaled two. Both of which were to the cheek.

  Patrick knew this peace wouldn’t last. Their first sex scene was coming up sooner than he’d like, and he’d have to face it then. But he had no idea what to do about it, either.

  Patrick tried to pull Rhys aside after filming an action scene one day. Patrick started to speak, but Rhys made an excuse about having to be somewhere, stopped long enough to kiss Patrick hard and fast on the lips, then disappeared, leaving Patrick standing there feeling a little shell-shocked.

  Rhys kept himself scarce when they weren’t actively filming, leaving Patrick no chance to talk to him, and Patrick was sure it was deliberate. The scenes they did together were mostly brief, but the few kisses they shared, Rhys made sure were very intense. Patrick thought he ought to have gotten used to them, but apparently not. Each one seemed to throw him off-kilter.

  And then, after it was over, Rhys kissed him again and disappeared before Patrick could so much as react. He was determined, though, the next time he’d make Rhys listen. But the behavior had what Patrick was sure was the intended effect. He was even more confused around his costar, even more frustrated with the situation. And, he had to admit, now sure Rhys was trying to get him to fall in love back.

  Patrick was so focused on figuring Rhys out that he lost track of the days. The only thing he was aware of was that their first sex scene together was approaching in a few more weeks, and he was not looking forward to it.

  So when he and Chance were wrapping up dinner one night and the intercom went off, he stared at Chance with a puzzled expression. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  Chance, currently trying to land a wet washcloth on Avery’s dodging, spaghetti-covered face, shook his head. “Nope.”

  Patrick frowned and pushed the button. “Hello?”

  “Hi!” Emily’s voice came over the speaker.

  Patrick’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, I forgot! Uh, come up!”

  He pushed the front door button, then opened the apartment door and threw an apologetic look at Chance. They’d been planning to finally watch Aliens together after wrestling Avery into a bath and bed. So much for that. Chance shrugged in reply and smiled.

  “Mommy!” Avery shouted, squirming until Chance moved away. He bolted straight for the door and smeared spaghetti sauce all over Emily’s T-shirt.

  Emily laughed. “Hi, baby,” she said, scooping him up and hugging him tight.

  “I am so sorry, Em. I totally forgot you were coming in today. We should have met you.”

  Emily shook her head. “It’s all right. I know you’ve been stressed at the studio.” She turned to look at Chance. “You must be Chance.” She settled Avery onto her hip and reached out a hand.

  Chance shook it, smiling. “I am. And you would be Emily. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Patrick groaned and stepped forward. “Sorry, uh, that’s Sara,” Patrick said, holding his hand out to the tall, willowy redhead with very long hair and a nervous expression standing behind Emily. “Sara, this is Chance.”

  Sara smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you… third-hand, of course, but….”

  Chance chuckled. “Thanks. Uh, I think.”

  “It’s all good, don’t worry.”

  “Oh! They lied, then?” He grinned, and she laughed. Patrick punched him in the arm. Chance laughed and leaned in to kiss him. “Stop.”

  Patrick just shook his head. “I’m sorry, Em.”

  “Really, Patrick, don’t worry about it. We needed a rental anyway for while we’re here.” She turned her attention to Avery. “Spaghetti for dinner?”

  “Yes! How did you know?” he asked, the picture of sauce-covered innocence.

  Emily grinned. “Mommies know a lot.”

  Avery’s eyes got big, and they shot to Sara. “What happens when you have two mommies?”

  “About the same as when you have two daddies. You have to be very good.”

  Avery’s gaze shot to Chance and then Patrick and then to Sara before going back to his mom. “Uh-oh. I’m in trouble.”

  All four adults laughed. Emily kissed Avery on the nose. “Listen, Stinker, why don’t you let Chance get you started on a bath, hmm?”

  Avery pouted. “Do I gotta?”

  With a grin, Emily nodded. “Until you learn how to get all the spaghetti into your mouth, yes.”

  With a huge put-upon sigh, Avery drooped. “Oookaaay.”

  Four more chuckles answered it, and Chance stepped forward to take him. “Come on, Squirt.”

  “I’ll help,” Sara offered, and Emily threw her a grateful look.

  After they disappeared into the bathroom, Emily
turned to Patrick. “I just thought you might not want an audience for this.”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows, and Emily pulled out folded papers from her purse, then handed them over. Patrick unfolded them and stared at the sheet on top. He read it slowly, ignoring the first couple of lines with file number and registry, then “In the Supreme Court of British Columbia” above Emily’s and his names. But then his eyes stopped at the three words that followed. Centered, in neat capital letters, the words “Certificate of Divorce” took up their own line.

  Without paying too much attention, Patrick wandered over to his kitchen table and sat down as he skimmed the paragraph in the middle of the page. In what Patrick felt was too few words, his marriage to Emily was officially dissolved. He’d known it was coming. He’d been expecting it. He’d been practically living with Chance for months now. Some of Chance’s clothes hung next to his in the closet. Chance had underwear and socks in Patrick’s dresser drawers. Both guitars had what amounted to permanent places in the living room by the balcony doors. A half-finished sheet of music always took up space on the coffee table. He’d been encouraging Emily to marry Sara. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise.

  And really, the papers, the fact that it was done, wasn’t.

  What surprised him was the stab in the vicinity of his heart at seeing it.

  He couldn’t quite untangle what was wrong about it all in his head. Or why this hurt. But as he stared at the paper, no longer really seeing it, he felt a lump form in his throat. He looked up at Emily, wondering if maybe he’d feel different, but no, the friendship he’d been feeling for the last months was still there. He didn’t suddenly feel like he loved her again or anything.

  In the background, he heard splashing, a laugh, and then Chance’s voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t need to. Patrick knew Chance was saying something to Avery to get him to calm down so he could be bathed.