Showmance - L.H. Cosway Page 0,7

Damon’s mouth twitched for the briefest second. “Thanks.”

“He’s got a sense of humour, too. He’ll go far.” Julian grinned in my direction, then sauntered into the kitchen. “I’m starving. Are you cooking dinner?”

“Aren’t I always,” I sighed, and then asked Damon if I could take his coat. He shrugged out of it, his eyes not leaving me all the while, and then I went to hang it on the rack by the door. On my return he bent to ask curiously, “Another actor?”

I took a moment to absorb the sensation of his breath hitting my skin. It was…not unpleasant. Julian, who I swear had the hearing of a bat, didn’t miss a beat as he let out an amused chuckle. “Rose has a weakness for those in your profession.”

Damon looked at me in question. I strode over to the breakfast bar, again glaring at my friend. “Yes, well, I’ve sworn off all thespians after the last disaster, so Damon here is safe.”

“What disaster?”

For someone who claimed not to be a big talker, he sure had a lot of questions.

“Ever heard of Blake Winters?” Julian chirped, plucking an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a big bite.

Damon shook his head. Julian scrunched his brows.

“Have you been living under a rock?”

“No, I’ve been living on an island,” said Damon.

Julian cocked his head to the side, as though trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic. “Well, he’s an actor, like you, and he sleeps around. Rose had the great misfortune to have her head turned by the young Mr Winters. He seduced her and then left her in the lurch, the swine.” Julian pouted his lips, affecting a disapproving expression.

“Sounds like an arse,” Damon put in, and both Julian and I began laughing.

“I like this one,” said Julian.

I grinned as I thought, yeah, me too, and found myself suddenly blushing.

I was sure that if I’d met Damon a month ago, I’d already be head over heels, especially considering the whole brooding, antisocial thing he had going on. However, though my Blake wounds had scabbed over, they were still fresh, so I wasn’t really feeling anything more for him than friendship.

Damon took a stool and sat as I began gathering the ingredients for dinner. At the same time, Julian’s phone started ringing, and I knew it was his work number because it rang to the tune of “Roxanne” by The Police. Yes, my friend had a dark sense of humour to go with his inability to censor.

And yes, I was aware it was odd how normal it had become for him to be taking a call from someone who wanted to hire him for sex, but Julian and I had both had a very non-traditional upbringing. What was surreal to others was ordinary to us. And the sad fact of the matter was, if Julian hadn’t been working in the sex industry, he’d probably be strung out in a heroin den somewhere, waiting to die.

Experiences had moulded him in such a way that he needed constant stimulation.

It was the lesser of two evils, and I’d grown to accept that. In life, you often had to reshape your square edges to accommodate the plethora of difference that existed in the corners of our individualities.

“Yes, all right, I’ll see you in a half an hour, then,” said Julian, and he hung up. He had that little thrill of excitement in his voice that told me this was a client he liked.

“I’ll have to take a rain check on dinner,” he went on, striding back over to the kitchen. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll leave a plate in the oven, just in case you’re hungry when you get home.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll. It was a pleasure to meet you, Damon,” he said with a smile before grabbing his coat and scarf and hurrying out the door.

Damon watched him go before his attention returned to me. “Quite the character, isn’t he?” I said as I chopped some garlic.

“Are you two — ”

“Oh, God, no,” I interrupted, immediately knowing the direction of this thoughts. “Julian’s like a brother. Actually, he sort of was my brother for a little while.”

“Ah,” said Damon, before glancing at his watch. “What does he do?”

I pursed my lips, wondering if I should just get the matter of Julian’s profession out of the way sooner rather than later. My friend made no secret of what he did for a living, but at the same time, he didn’t go shouting it from the rooftops, either. If