Drew laughed. “Hopefully more than a day, if I play my cards right and make the right choices to build my career.”
“I’m sure it’ll happen,” Lee said.
“And I’m sure you’ll make a perfect transition into your new genre,” Drew complimented him as well.
Lee could seriously get used to being part of a mutual admiration society with a guy like Drew. Even if he hadn’t been famous. “At the very least, I’ll have all sorts of material to write about after a few weeks of hanging out with you.”
“If you want to write celebrity romance, I’ve got all the insider gossip for you,” Drew said with a burst of enthusiasm. “Once you get your foot in the door like I have over the last few months, it’s amazing what kind of stuff you find out about.”
“Stop it,” Lee laughed. “You’re going to make me fall in love with you for real if you dangle that sort of promise in front of me.”
Lee hadn’t meant those words to mean anything, but the sly grin that Drew sent him, combined with the perfect flicker of his eyebrows, even if he couldn’t see Drew’s eyes completely, had Lee’s blood rushing to all the right places at the wrong time. He had to remind himself that this whole thing was a professional arrangement that served a specific purpose, to protect Drew from online accusations.
The last thing he should be doing was getting hard in Trafalgar Square because his celebrity fake boyfriend teased him with a very real flirty look.
“So my friend Nikky is playing a concert at a London venue in a few days,” Drew said once they’d reached the other side of the square, where he called for a car to come pick them up. “That would be the perfect place for us to be seen together.”
“Nikky Smith?” Lee asked with a sudden look of surprise.
“Yeah.” Drew smirked. “Obviously, if you’ve heard about me, you’ve heard about him.”
“I have indeed,” Lee said. “And I’d love to go to his concert with you.”
“Great,” Drew said, seemingly relieved. As if Lee would turn down an invitation to go to a famous actor-musician’s concert with an even more famous actor. “I’ll text you all the details as soon as I have them. I mean, if you’re willing to give me your phone number.”
“Of course I’m willing to give you my phone number,” Lee said, pulling his cellphone out of his back pocket. Half a dozen messages from Diana were waiting for him, but he would fill her in on all the juicy details later. “I’m just surprised you’re willing to give me your number.”
“You can’t date someone without sharing your phone number,” Drew said, then gestured for Lee to hand over his phone once he’d unlocked it.
As he did, their hands touched. It was yet another perfect romance novel moment as fingers brushed and sparks flew. Lee refused to let himself take it seriously, though. Drew Oberlin might not have been completely straight, but he was definitely out of Lee’s league. The best he could hope for was to have some fun and do all the research for a whole series of books.
But a boy could still dream of more, couldn’t he?
five
. . .
Drew couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He’d gone into the meeting with Javier from Rent-A-Boyfriend convinced that the whole thing was the worst idea anyone had ever had and he would regret it immediately. But as it turned out, not only did he get a really good vibe from Javier Rivera and a sense that the man knew what he was doing and really cared about people, Lee Cresswell had surprised him.
And after all the wild things that had happened to him in the last few months, Drew hadn’t thought anything would ever surprise him again.
“You’re sure you don’t need me to drop you off somewhere?” he asked when the taxi he’d hailed by the edge of St. James’s Park pulled close to where the two of them had finished their walk after Trafalgar Square. “It’s no trouble.”
“Nah, there’s a Tube station just down there that’ll take me directly home to Earl’s Court,” Lee said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.
Drew thought it was charming that Lee would want to take the Underground instead of a taxi. He didn’t use the word “charming” often, but it just fit where Lee was concerned. His new friend was charming and clever and agreeable, and about adozen other old-fashioned, British-sounding words to describe someone who was easy to be around and entertaining.
“Are you sure?” he asked as he reached for the taxi’s door handle. “It’s no trouble, really.”
“I’m good,” Lee waved him off with a gesture, his smile lighting up his eyes. “I’ll probably be home before a taxi could get me anywhere close to the square.”
Drew had no idea why, but the idea that Lee lived on a square somewhere in a part of London that sounded fancy, not that he knew the first thing about neighborhoods in London, gave him a little thrill. He immediately had a mental picture of Lee wrapped up in a thick cardigan, smoking a pipe, his glasses taking over his face, and typing away on an antique typewriter as he wrote his novels. It was silly, but after just an hour and a half with Lee, his imagination was in overdrive.
“Okay. I’ll text you the details about Nikky’s concert on Friday,” he said, opening the car door and moving to get into the classic black taxi.
“Sounds great,” Lee said. He took a step back and raised his hand in a parting gesture. “See you Friday.”
Drew said goodbye, then settled into the taxi, giving the blessedly clueless driver his address at the studio-owned apartments.