No Sacrifice Read online

  He wasn’t going to hide from Patrick Tearney.

  He made it to the catering tent and got in line, glancing around. Thus far, it didn’t look like Patrick was there yet, or maybe he’d already gone through and taken his food somewhere else. Chance glanced over the tables nearby, eyes stopping at the talent table, but he didn’t see Patrick at any of them.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned to the line, grabbed his plate, and tried to focus on food. He saw chicken, some kind of fish, two types of pasta, salad, something he wasn’t able to readily identify, and a pile of bread a mile high. He loaded up his plate, knowing from experience he wasn’t likely to have enough time to go back through. Keeping his mama in mind, he even made sure to take some salad. He snagged the one can of Coke he allowed himself and turned to look for a table.

  And ran right smack into Patrick Tearney. Almost literally.

  He stopped just shy, rescuing his plate at the last second. Patrick stared at him, mouth agape for what felt like a solid minute. Chance opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t come up with anything to say, so he closed it and waited.

  But Patrick didn’t seem capable of much in the way of speech either. Chance rocked from foot to foot, more nervous even than he’d expected to be, and was about to just leave. Maybe he could find a different set to work on. There were plenty in Hollywood. And it wouldn’t be unusual if he didn’t get along with one of the talent… would it?

  Before he could turn away, however, he noticed Patrick’s plate tilting precariously, and he reached out to catch it before it fell and dumped the food all over the ground.

  “Oh, uh, thanks,” Patrick mumbled, and Chance looked up to see Patrick’s cheeks were red. The man wouldn’t look at him—was instead glancing around them as if looking for something else.

  Chance blinked, confused for a moment at the color. “Uh…. You’re welcome,” Chance managed. “He, uh, I— You must think I’m an asshole,” Chance muttered.

  Patrick didn’t answer at first, just turned back to stare at him, frowning, until Chance began to feel really uncomfortable. Again he thought maybe he should just leave, but then Patrick spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Chance dropped his eyes to the ground. Because I was afraid of what you’d say, how you’d react. That you really would think I was an asshole. “I… I don’t know. I know I should have told you. I’m sorry I didn’t. Just… I don’t know why.” He kept his gaze focused on the sand while he waited for Patrick’s reply.

  “You must think I’m a fucking idiot. Or crazy. Or both.” Chance looked up to see Patrick’s face in his hand.

  “Uh, Chrissy’s going to be pissed if you do that…,” Chance said, biting his lip. “And of course I don’t.”

  Patrick looked up. “Yeah, she’ll have to work on me, anyway.” He blinked. “Wait… you don’t?”

  Chance shook his head. “Hell no. What is there for you to be an idiot about?”

  “Well… I… you know…,” he floundered, cheeks darkening.

  Chance chuckled. “Seriously, it’s okay. I didn’t think anything except that I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

  Patrick just stared for a long moment. “Really?” Patrick asked, and Chance had to fight to keep the smile off his face at the hope in the tone. He nodded, managing to keep his expression neutral. “Well.” Patrick stopped, then glanced at the plate in his hand as if surprised to find it there. “Uh… want to get a seat?”

  Chance let the smile out then, and it was too big, he was sure of it. He couldn’t care. Patrick didn’t hate him, and that was all that mattered. “Yeah. So….” They turned toward the tables. “I guess it didn’t work?”

  Patrick shook his head. “Nope. Nuns, kittens, baseball… all it did was piss Jack off… though I guess you heard that.”

  “Yeah. That sucks. Sorry.”

  “I’m just tired of it.” He shrugged as they took a seat at the end of one of the long crew tables. Patrick tucked a big plastic cover over his costume and sighed. “It doesn’t help that I won’t see Emily for another two months at least.”

  “She’s not here?” Chance asked.

  Patrick shook his head. “Nope. She’s in Vancouver—Canada, that is. She’ll be there most of the rest of this year.”

  “Ugh.” Chance dug into his salad and focused on it for a while. “I guess there are times it’s better to be single,” he said thoughtfully.

  Patrick laughed, though it was completely lacking in mirth. “You have no idea.”

  Chance blinked at him. “Yeah, I guess I don’t.” Patrick frowned and opened his mouth. Chance guessed it was to apologize. “So, uh, tell me about Avery,” he said, to head it off.

  For the first time since the weird shit started happening with Rhys, Patrick found himself actually looking forward to going in each day. He still loved acting, still loved the show. But the confusion and frustration with Rhys had left a shadow over everything, making him struggle with acting in ways he never had before.

  But now, though the frustration was still there—made worse when Rhys reacted as well—he had another reason to look forward to work. He could even get through the frustrating scenes because he knew there was someone on the other side of them and he could talk about it. Or ignore it. But that someone wouldn’t judge him, and that’s what mattered.

  He’d been having lunch and the dinners they were on set for with Chance every day since that first one. Rhys had basically started to disappear. If they were caught together, he acted like nothing was a problem and they were still the same on-set friends they always were. But Patrick noticed the difference.

  Since the day Rhys reacted to him instead of just Patrick reacting, Rhys had made himself scarce between scenes. He took lunches and dinners in his room—or trailer if they were on location—and when they were done for the day, he beat the hastiest retreat Patrick had ever seen.

  Patrick wanted to talk to him about it. He did, after all, understand quite well what Rhys was going through. But it was obvious Rhys didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t even want to recognize it happened. So Patrick, of course, didn’t push or even approach Rhys. His friend—if they were still friends—would come back when ready.

  Instead, Patrick focused on his new friendship with Chance. They spent the better part of their short lunch breaks talking. Patrick learned all about Chance’s family back in Georgia, including his mother, absent father, brother, sister, and even his grandmother. Patrick could see the conflict in Chance: he missed his family but not the area—and the homophobia he’d grown up with.

  He found himself talking about his own brothers and sisters, mother, da, great-aunt, and of course, Avery. But oddly, he didn’t want to talk much about Emily. For some reason she didn’t come up often, and when she did, it was only a very few words.

  His conversations with her were getting worse, and that might’ve had something to do with it. On the days he was able to call before Avery went to bed, she answered the phone and almost immediately handed it over to his son. Most of the time, Avery was the one to hang up when they finished. Patrick had no idea what to do with it. If he called on a day Avery had already gone to bed, they spent the sum total of two minutes on the phone: her informing him their son was in bed, a basic question about his day, and then a good-bye.

  Patrick had no idea what was going on. He knew she was getting started on her own filming and, thus, was probably busy and tired. But it felt like there was so much more than that, entirely aside from the fact that she wouldn’t say anything even remotely resembling “I love you.” Patrick had been the last one to say it—weeks ago, now—and he wasn’t going to keep doing it only to receive a “good-bye” in response. He had to admit, he wasn’t sure if the words even meant anything anymore—coming from either of them.

  He realized, somewhere along the way, he didn’t even really miss her. Even on the nights when his brain was blessedly free of Rhys and not even occupied with Chance, he didn’t think much about her. Usually i
t only happened at odd moments, like getting ready for bed or if he happened to see an ad for her TV show. But most of the time, she was conspicuously absent.

  It told him enough, though he didn’t like what it said. As such, he ignored the thoughts, ignored the questions, and focused on work and Avery. He never seemed to tire of talking to his son, even if it was only about cars or toys or the last Disney movie Avery watched. He had only a handful of weeks left before he could see his son. In fact, Emily’s shooting stepped up then, and he was hoping to take Avery with him to Hawai’i for his break. His mom would be thrilled to see her grandson. And Patrick could use the balm that was family.

  But he still had about eight weeks to get through. Eight weeks of late nights, awkward kissing scenes, and uncomfortable silences from someone who was supposed to be his friend. He could get through it, though, thanks to another someone who understood, or at least was willing to listen.

  Chance waved from his spot at the corner table they’d taken to sitting at. Patrick avoided the talent table, mostly because he wanted the ability to sit with Chance, and Jack had made it very clear crew wasn’t welcome there. He saw Jack there often with a few of the guest stars who showed up now and again. Funny enough, Chance and Patrick were often joined by Sebastian and Angelo, and the four of them spent meals together quite a bit, leaving the talent table mostly empty.

  He took his seat, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so. “It’s horrible for March. Why did it have to be unseasonably warm now when we have to be out in the desert?” Patrick grumbled as he settled into his seat. He got three chuckles in response.

  “Because Murphy was a genius,” Sebastian said, and Patrick laughed.

  “He was, apparently.” He shook his head and forked up some salad. “I suppose it could be worse. At least we have air-conditioned trailers if it gets to be too bad.”

  “Some of us,” Chance murmured, and Patrick frowned.

  “If you can take a break, you can sit in mine,” he said, looking over in time to see the surprise on Chance’s face. “No reason to be that hot.”

  “Might be better just to stay out. In and out of the air only seems to make it worse,” Angelo said thoughtfully.

  “That’s true. I just hate sweating in the costumes and makeup,” Sebastian said, shuddering. “It starts running—then we look awful.”

  Angelo grinned. “You look good, no matter what.”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes and elbowed Angelo. “You would say something like that,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  Patrick laughed. “How long have you two been together?” he asked before taking another bite of salad.

  Angelo and Sebastian both looked up in surprise, then exchanged glances. “Uh….” Sebastian started, cheeks turning red.

  “Oops. Sorry.” Patrick cleared his throat.

  “What makes you think we’re together?” Angelo asked, but he wouldn’t meet Patrick’s eyes.

  Patrick and Chance exchanged looks. “I’ve been in love,” Patrick said quietly. “I can recognize the signs.”

  Angelo and Sebastian’s eyes met for a long moment. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “Only to someone who knows what to look for.” Patrick forced a smile. “I take it it’s not common knowledge on set?”

  “We’re trying to keep it quiet,” Sebastian answered after a while. “There’s… a lot of pressure that comes with on-set romances, you know? And to fall in love while playing lovers is even worse for some couples. We… we just don’t want to be another one that ends when the show does.”

  Patrick nodded. “It’s not a guarantee. Emily and I didn’t end when the play did.” He shrugged. “Hollywood relationships take a lot of work. If you’re willing to put the effort in, though, they can last.”

  Chance heard the bitterness in Patrick’s words, and he frowned. He also hadn’t missed the distinction: “I’ve been in love.” He knew things were rough between Patrick and Emily, but he didn’t realize just how bad they’d gotten. Despite how much he’d love to be more to Patrick, he still felt bad for his friend. The end of a relationship—if that’s what was happening—was never easy.

  “There are plenty of people who last a long time, even with trouble. Look at Will and Jada. How long have they been together?” Chance asked, trying to shift things into the positive.

  Patrick shot him a grateful look.

  “Sixteen years. And yeah, not perfect, but they do work at it,” Sebastian agreed. “It’s just, you see things like Harrison Ford—he and his wife were together for how long? And then divorced anyway.”

  Angelo shrugged. “That’s true, but we just don’t know what happened. There are a lot of reasons behind things like that.” He took a bite of pasta, and when he’d swallowed, added, “It could have been anything. And she wasn’t in Hollywood, as far as I know, and she might not’ve understood anything that went into it.”

  “Even people in Hollywood might not take well to their husbands or wives getting into certain situations,” Chance said, thinking of watching Patrick and Rhys together. Though he thought if Patrick came home to him at the end of the day, he could handle things better. He hoped so, anyway. He struggled to keep a straight face when he thought about sending Patrick to the set thoroughly satisfied. Perhaps Patrick wouldn’t have the same problems then. He forced his attention back to the conversation.

  “Yeah, but I think they understand more,” Angelo said, shrugging a shoulder. “In the end… I really do think it’s about the two. Are they willing to make it work? And it’s both of them, not just one.” Angelo frowned and swallowed, and Chance saw Sebastian move his arm, undoubtedly to lend a bit of comfort.

  “It really does take two. My brother’s been divorced already,” Chance said, sighing. “And, frankly, it was his fault.” He shrugged. “Not that she was perfect, but she tried right up until the end. I think he had one foot out the door for most of their marriage, though. Anyway…,” he said, realizing he wasn’t helping. “I think you two look great together. I hope it works out for you.”

  “Same here,” Patrick said, glancing at Chance gratefully.

  “Thanks,” Sebastian said, smiling.

  “Yes, thank you,” Angelo added.

  “Well… looks like we won’t be stuck here too late tonight,” Patrick said after a while. “I only wish it wasn’t more than an hour and a half drive time back into LA.”

  “Yeah.” Sebastian made a face. “I hate being crammed into those vans. I’d rather be behind the wheel if I’ve got to deal with LA traffic.”

  Patrick laughed. “Not me. I don’t mind being driven. But… despite being under six feet tall, I’m never comfortable in those vans they drive us in.” He shook his head.

  “You could always ride with me,” Chance offered, then nearly bit his tongue off. He doubted the man wanted to be cooped up in a car with him for nearly two hours.

  Patrick looked at him in surprise. “Do you live close to the studio? I don’t want to take you out of your way.”

  Chance shook his head. “It’s not out of my way. Actually, I live pretty close to Pablo’s.”

  “Really?” Patrick asked, and Chance nodded. “Well, why don’t we just go there, then? I’ll buy.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Chance mumbled. It’d feel way too much like a date, and he didn’t want to give Marcy the wrong impression. For one thing.

  “It’s cool. I’d like to,” Patrick said. “Least I can do to keep from having to ride in that van.”

  Chance glanced up at the silent Sebastian and Angelo. They were both watching him and Patrick with amused looks on their faces. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Angelo said and gave his salad a lot of attention.

  “Nope, nothing,” Sebastian echoed and dug into his pie.

  Chance considered them for a second when he figured out what was wrong. “It’s not like that,” Chance said.

  “Like what?” Patrick asked.

  Chance cleared his throat and looke
d at his friend. “Uh, I think they think that we’re… you know… like they are.”

  Patrick blinked at him for a moment. Then his eyes widened and… interestingly… his cheeks colored a little. “Oh, no, uh, it’s not,” Patrick said, shaking his head and glancing at the other two.

  “Uh, okay,” Angelo agreed and sent another amused glance toward Sebastian.

  Hours later, Patrick still couldn’t get the image of that amused look out of his head. What did it mean? Did… Chance like him? He didn’t think he’d let his interest become obvious. He’d done his best, in fact, to keep any attraction he had toward his friend carefully buried. Granted he’d only been seeing Chance on set, so he’d usually been occupied with his scenes or what was coming up and, thus, been able to keep his mind off his attraction.

  So he wasn’t sure what that look between Angelo and Sebastian said. Chance was his friend, would stay that way, and that was all there was to it. Things were complicated enough with Emily and his reaction to Rhys. He didn’t need to confuse his friendship and attraction with Chance too.

  He sighed, trying to forget it and just worry about getting changed, out of makeup, and on his way back to the city. So he wasn’t paying attention to the people around him as he walked to his trailer. It wasn’t until he had the door open that he noticed Rhys leaning against the wall. His friend was already out of makeup and in street clothes. “Hi,” he managed, blinking. “Uh… come in while I change?”

  “So you do have time for me?” Rhys asked.

  Patrick scowled at the venom in Rhys’s voice. “I’m not the one hiding in my trailer between scenes or during meals.” He started toward the back of the tiny trailer, unbuttoning his tunic as he went. He laid it over the chair Thom kept by the rack for that reason and turned around to reach for the makeup wipes. His scowl deepened when he saw Rhys standing in the doorway. He’d told himself when his friend finally approached him, he’d be understanding, but Rhys’s whole demeanor just made Patrick want to… punch Rhys’s nose instead. “So,” he asked as he scrubbed at the goop on his face, “what’s that supposed to mean? Why have you disappeared?” He met Rhys’s eyes through the mirror.