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Jason looks at his phone and sighs. He’s not sure what he expected. It feels like hours since he last checked the time when, really, it’s been no more than a few minutes. Eyes closed, he leans his head back on the headrest of his seat aboard the train that’s supposed to get him to San Diego in just under three hours. Now that timeframe has gone straight out the window. They’ve been stopped for…Jason checks his phone again.
Twenty-seven, no, twenty-eight minutes.
Jason's normal patience is currently hidden behind crankiness. He’s tired and nervous and a little bit hungry. Plus, there’s a brand new crack right across the middle of his phone’s screen.
And here he thought taking the train would help lessen his stress and worry about today.
He picked the train over driving for more than one reason. First, he definitely wanted to avoid L.A. traffic. Second, he thought it’d give him more time to prepare for this interview. Audition, really, but that’s still hard to imagine.
When Jason first sent in a video to Fit-Tron, one of the world’s most popular at-home-interactive-gym and media companies, he never expected to get a call for an audition. Not only are they very selective, they rarely add to their list of instructors. When he happened to see the listing on their website, he figured why not give it a shot. Nothing could have prepared him for the phone call he got a week later asking him to come in for an in-person audition to fill one of the two positions they have available.
Ever since majoring in kinesiology in college, Jason has been working as a physical therapist and personal trainer in a sports medicine clinic. He’s completely fallen in love with helping people improve their lives with fitness and his dream now is to reach more people. One thing he’s noticed in many of these fitness apps and programs is the lack of modification for people who may have difficulties or limitations for a variety of reasons doing some of the exercises. Jason hopes to fix this by at least hosting live or recorded classes which offer such options.
The thought makes him smile.
Jason Mirelli. The Fit-Tron instructor that makes fitness fun for everyone!
He has a whole routine worked out. A presentation on what he can bring to the team and show off his own unique take on fitness. He’s practiced doing it in front of his family while they recorded. He made sure he can get through it while talking without sounding out of breath, that he sounds clear and smooth.
Jason knows he can do this. He’s confident in his talents as a trainer and that he can bring something new and different to the company. He just needs to get the chance to prove it.
Of course, this delay puts more and more knots in his stomach. The audition isn’t until one o’clock, and he’s given himself plenty of time to get there by taking the seven-fifteen train, but now “technical difficulties” might make him miss the opportunity of a lifetime.
Only ten other people occupy the business class car he's in. Another reason Jason decided on such an early time. Also why he paid a little extra for the upgrade. Less people. More room for his too-large-for-comfort-in-most-seats girth. Two men are currently going over a business deal. A woman is conked out, her head resting against the window. Three other people are decked out in classic tourist stuff and keep taking pictures as they travel to San Diego. There’s a woman on her laptop. Someone out of sight keeps humming along to their music and the person seated two rows ahead of Jason is watching Romeo and Jules, a modern-day retelling of Romeo and Juliet which caused unnecessary controversy when it came out--no pun intended.
This choice of film is more or less probably intentional since the tenth person in the car with Jason happens to be one of the stars of it.
Colby Kent.
One of Hollywood’s current box-office darlings. He’s dazzled the industry with his rise to stardom. From his early roles at the leading-lady’s gay best friend to a leading roles of his own, making everyone fall in love with his characters and, by extension, him as well. An international superstar, everyone loves Colby Kent and his elegance and his incredible range of talent expanding over so many different characters and his adorable smile.
Everyone except Jason.
Which is entirely unfair of him since he only met the thirty-year-old celebrity today; if Colby accidentally bumping into him and causing him to drop and ultimately crack his phone could be considered a first meeting.
It isn’t so much the bumping into or the semi-broken phone that’s caused Jason such an intense dislike of him. It’s what occurred right after.
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.” Which sounded genuine enough and Colby, who Jason did not recognize until they were face-to-face, did seem quite distracted as they both moved for the same seat at the same time. “I should have been watching where I was going. Oh but I’ve made you drop your phone,” he said and then bent to pick it up, noticed the crack, and gasped at the sight. “Oh, dear, did I do this? I’m--I can replace it for you. Right now, if you’d like. It’s no trouble, I promise.”
Jason, bewildered by the frenzy of apologies and youthful wide-eyed innocence, decided right then and there he did not like Colby Kent.
Nobody, especially a big celebrity like Colby Kent, could be so nice that they’d offer to replace a phone with a crack in the screen, even if they’d inadvertently been the one to break it. The phone still worked, of course, a crack in the screen was like a crack in the sidewalk nowadays, therefore the rambling of kind words had to be fake. An act. A performance by a brilliant actor to keep up his sweetheart reputation.
For a second there, Jason almost believed him. A second later, he thought about calling Colby’s bluff by agreeing to take him up on that offer. Since Jason was not in the business of making people feel uncomfortable, he tried not to glare at fakeness, said, “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” and gestured for Colby to go ahead and take the seat they’d both wanted.
“No, no, please, you take it,” Colby said, already moving for another one. “I’ve already caused you enough irritation for one day. The least I can do is give you the seat you wanted; it’s only fair. Really, and I’m sorry again, and if you want me to replace the phone or even just the screen please don’t hesitate to say something.”
Attempting not to roll his eyes, Jason nodded and took the seat while Colby went to one a few rows up and across the aisle. He also happened to sit in one facing Jason so now, every time Jason looks up, he looks right at Colby Kent.
Hard not to.
He is rather adorable, as much as Jason hates to admit it. Those blue eyes sparkling with the brightness of sun-kissed oceans. Shadow brown hair somehow both disheveled and stylish at the same time. He’s taller than Jason expected; only an inch or so shorter than Jason’s height. Slim. Maybe slimmer than he should be, but tidy and cozy in his green sweater with one sleeve down and the other pushed up to his elbow.
At the moment, Colby appears to be trying to do several things at once. There’s a notebook on his lap, a highlighter in one hand, his phone in the other, and a pen between his teeth. He also has the folding tray down with another notebook, book, and cup of coffee on it.
Colby is so preoccupied with whatever he’s doing that Jason doubts very much he’s even noticed his young fan stealing glances at him every few minutes. Which has now turned into every few seconds. Jason almost tells them to leave him alone. Which is ridiculous. They’re not actually doing anything and besides, being annoyed by adoring fans comes with the territory of fame and success. Doesn’t it?
Jason shakes his head.
He has better things to do than worrying over Colby Kent.
Such as his own future and success.
Speaking of which.
“Excuse me,” he says to the on-board employee. “Any idea when we’ll get moving again?”
“I’m so sorry for the delay, sir,” she replies with a tentative smile. Something tells him she’s been hit with the question many times already and from less understanding customers. “Unfortunately, last night’s storm knocked a tree onto the tracks and they’re still working to clear it. Hopefully it won’t take much longer. All drinks at the café are currently complimentary. Is there anything I can get you while you wait? ”
“No, that’s okay.” Jason smiles. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Let me know if I can do anything else for you.”
She starts making her way up the aisle again and pauses after getting only a few steps. Starstruck, possibly, at seeing Colby Kent sitting in the car she’s currently working. She recovers quickly and is professional enough to simply ask if she can get him anything. To which he overly politely declines.
Moments later, disaster strikes.
Not an earthquake or a tornado or even a loud clap of thunder although it might as well be by the way Colby reacts when one of the men doing business drops his iPad and his companion yells about it. Not in an angry sort of way. Really, it’s more shock mixed with surprise mixed with amusement.
The outburst catches everyone’s attention--kind of hard not to, it even makes the sleeping lady jerk awake--and both men apologize through stifled laughs while everyone else goes back to what they were doing. Everyone except Colby Kent.
No, Colby’s gone completely still. Jason isn’t even sure if he’s breathing. His cheeks, which didn’t have much color to begin with, are white. He looks a hell of a lot more than startled. If Jason had to put a word to it, he’d say Colby looks outright frightened. Jason has a strong urge to go over there to wrap him in a blanket and give him hot chocolate and feed him cookies.
And, of course, Colby’s admirer chooses this precise moment to be brave and leans over to ask for his autograph, completely oblivious--or probably simply unaware--of Colby’s distress. To be honest, Jason isn’t positive why he’s recognized it himself, but he sees it and doesn’t like it, and if Colby is in need of a rescuer…
Not that someone like Jason Mirelli is qualified to rescue someone like Colby Kent. Colby Kent is royalty. A prince in every right. Jason Mirelli isn’t even a knight in shining armor. A farmer, maybe. Big and clumsy and not worthy of a prince.
Not especially a prince who manages to fix a smile on his face despite obvious nerves to sign the magazine he’s been handed by a bright-eyed fan.
“I’m such a huge fan,” she says. “I saw Local News three times in theaters.”
“Really?!” Colby asks as he writes something on the magazine cover. Longer than a simple scribble of his name. “That’s so very kind of you, thank you.”
As he hands her back the signed magazine, she thanks him and then timidly asks if he wouldn’t mind taking a picture with her. Jason doesn't think Colby has fully exhaled once since he heard the other passenger shout but he keeps that soft and remarkably patient smile on his face and nods.
"Of course," he says. "I'd love to."
That might be true sometimes. It isn’t right now, and apparently Colby Kent is the sort of person who will say yes even when he should say no.
The selfie takes only a few seconds and the girl thanks him profusely and even apologizes for bothering him to which Colby responds it’s been his pleasure. Unfortunately, their interaction has caught the attention of the three tourists who now must realize who they’ve been sharing a train with and aren’t going to miss their opportunity to meet the famous and enchanting Colby Kent.
All three of them rush at him at the same time, and while it isn’t precisely threatening so much as it is overwhelming and sudden excitement, Colby regards each of them with trepidation and unease hidden behind a carefully placed smile. This smile does not reach his eyes. No one else seems to notice as Colby pushes his own comfort aside to please his fans.
Jason notices. He can’t help it. It’s both mesmerizing and heartbreaking to watch Colby struggling to keep kindness ahead of discomfort. As if the thought of disappointing a single fan is even worse than whatever unease rivers through him.
When one of these three--who have taken up a lot more of Colby’s time than necessary--plops down in the seat next to him and throws his arm around his shoulders, Colby goes absolutely ashen. He looks ready to be ill.
And something inside Jason snaps to life.
A need to protect. To keep kindness and thoughtfulness safe from well-meaning but ignorant demands for interaction.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Jason abruptly finds himself on his feet. “I think Mr. Kent is done for now.”
Colby responds first, peering up at Jason through thick and, if Jason’s not mistaken, moist eyelashes. The young man with his arm around him reacts next, throwing an annoyed look in Jason’s direction.
“What’re you?” he asks. “His bodyguard?”
“As a matter of fact…”
Jason stands straight, shoulders back, muscles flexed. He knows about his own muscles. About height and girth and how it might look to others. And, to be fair, he hasn’t lied. He simply lets them draw their own conclusion based on what he’s said and they sort of shrug and thank Colby and finally move away from him. All the way to the other end of the car.
When they’re alone--as alone as two people can be on a train with other people--Colby releases a heavy breath. His shoulders sag. His smile finally falls. Even his hair seems to deflate some.
Jason crouches in front of him, careful not to get too close, not to touch. He’s seen what unexpected touch does and he’d rather avoid adding any more discomfort. Colby’s eyes, which were bright and animated and full of sunshine when they spoke earlier, have changed. They’ve dulled. Dulled in the wide-eyed horror of an incoming storm. A storm only Colby can see, but a storm nonetheless.
“Are you all right?” Jason asks, softly. “Can I get you anything? Water, maybe?”
“I’m sorry,” Colby replies, and Jason’s eyebrows fly up. He can’t imagine why on earth Colby would be apologizing. “I didn’t mean to make such a fuss. They meant no harm, really, and I am always so appreciative of…of my fans. Do you think I should get them something to apologize? I can get them all coffee or hot chocolate or pastries from the café.”
Some color has returned to his cheeks but Jason doesn’t like how shallow and rapid his breaths have gotten. A possible panic attack. Or right at the verge of one. Avoided by intervention.
Still, Jason knows enough about panic and fear tipping the world off-balance. If he can right the world for Colby Kent he will.
"Mr. Kent," Jason says, formal, yes, but he does not want Colby to think this is about anything other than assistance. He lifts his hand. Holds it in the space between them. Deliberately slow. Letting Colby see. "Can you squeeze my hand?"
“Excuse me?”
“My hand. Can you squeeze it? As hard as you can?”
The request may seem odd but shifting thoughts away from panic and onto action--mindless and repetitive--can be helpful.
“Ah…” Colby blinks. Says, “Yes?” and proceeds to demonstrate, wrapping long trembling fingers around Jason’s raised hand. Colby’s hand is a little cold and his shaky grip hasn’t much strength to it. “Like this?”
“That’s right. That’s good. Very good. Try it again, and this time, count with me.”
Colby does and they count together, slowly making their way up to ten. In between each one, Jason is sure to tell him how good he’s doing. Soft praises, Jason thinks, helps even more. By the time they reach ten, Colby’s breaths have evened out, the trembling’s stopped, and most of the color has returned to his cheeks.
“There you go. Good job, Mr. Kent, you did so well.” A shy grin twitches at the corners of Colby’s mouth. “You feel better?”
“Better?” Colby nibbles his lip. “Oh. Oh, I--” He runs fingers through his hair, rumpling dark locks. His grin turns sheepish. “I see what you’ve done. Thank you. Yes, I do, actually. Feel better, I mean.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Jason pats the top of Colby’s hand with his other and stands. “If you need anything else, Mr. Kent, I--”
“W-wait.” Taking hold of Jason’s hand with both of his, Colby keeps him from leaving. “Would you mind terribly if I ask that you sit with me for a few more minutes?” His request, simple and understandable, is accompanied by another lip bite. “Er--I’m sorry. I’ve already been such a bother. First breaking your phone. Then with all this trouble. Thank you, by the way, for doing that. I don’t believe I thanked you earlier. And then with the panicking. I really am sorry.”
Hand still holding Colby’s in a safe, secure, and gentle grip, Jason takes the seat next to him, careful not to crowd his personal space.
“You don’t have to keep saying that.”
“Saying?”
“That you’re sorry.” Jason’s thumb brushes over Colby’s knuckles. His hand is still cold. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Lashes flutter over bewildered sunshine. Colby looks at him as though more used to being considered nuisance than anything else. There’s hurt tucked in the corners of those bright eyes. He does a good job hiding it, but it’s there, and Jason wishes he had some way to ease it for him. Even if that means punching whoever is responsible for putting it there in the first place.
All ridiculous thoughts, of course. He doesn’t know Colby Kent beyond his public persona, and he mostly only knows because his sister Allie is a certified Colby Kent superfan.
His accent, Jason knows, comes from a little bit of here and a little bit of there. Childhood in England. Father, an American diplomat. Mother, a famous poet. A few years in Germany and France, traveling there for his father’s position. Then to Southern California with his mother after his parents’ divorce.
What Jason doesn’t know is what’s happened to Colby to make him feel the need to apologize even when he’s done nothing wrong. Or who’s treated him so unkindly that it’s caused him to hide his hurt behind pretty eyes and a soft smile.
“Um. I didn’t mean…I mean, I’m sor--” Colby cuts himself off with a lick of his lip which draws Jason’s attention down to his mouth. A mistake of gargantuan proportion because now all Jason can think about is kissing him. “Ah--” He chuckles at his word fumbling and finger-combs his hair away from his face. “What about you, then? Can I get you something? It’s the least I can do.”
Jason finds himself caught deeper in the flurry of blues, darker around the outside of those glorious irises, in Colby’s eyes. They’ve changed again. Harder to pinpoint this emotion. A sudden flinch of unexpected vulnerability. When Jason goes on staring, Colby once again dazzles him with a lip-lick and a smile. Jason doesn’t know whether he’s done this on purpose or if he’s simply nervous and isn’t sure how to move forward.
“No.” Jason manages an answer. “You don’t have to get me anything, Mr. Kent.”
“Colby,” he says, settling for a proper introduction. “It’s just Colby.” Colby sort of shakes his hand since they’re still cupped together. “As opposed to….Mr. Kent?”
A breath has caught in Jason’s throat. He’s suddenly forgotten how to breathe. He knows there’s something he’s supposed to do after someone introduces themselves to him but he can’t seem to remember what that is.
“Yes,” Jason says, and knows this isn’t the right response. “I, um, I know who you are.”
Since his brain has short-circuited at the most inopportune time, Jason does nothing more than stare. He’s never been starstruck before. In fact, that’s not really the problem now, either. It’s…Colby himself. The depth of his eyes. So much swirling in them. Jason wishes he could reach out and stroke fingertips along Colby’s cheek and steal the hurt away from him. Banish it to some dark abyss never to be heard from again. He won’t, of course, not without explicit permission, but the thought sends sparks scattering down his spine.
To be Colby’s rescuer. His friend. His…something.
“Jason,” he finally says. “My name is Jason. Jason Mirelli. Are you cold, Colby?” Jason rubs the one hand Colby’s given him between his. “You feel cold.”
“I’m…” Colby glances at their hands. Jason takes one of his away and allows Colby to decide whether or not to keep holding the other one. He does. “I’m all right, Jason.” Jason’s heart thumps pleasantly at the sound of his name passing through Colby’s lips. “I don’t want to be any trouble, I--”
Without letting Colby finish, Jason shrugs out of his sweatshirt and holds it out to drape over Colby’s shoulders. Another bashful smile pulls his lips up and he nods, allowing Jason to gently place it over him. When he does, Colby immediately pulls it tighter around him. Jason chuckles at the sight of him swimming in his clothes.
“What is it?” Colby asks.
“Nothing. You look cute in my sweatshirt.”
Pink kisses Colby’s cheek and, oh. Oh, Jason just made Colby Kent blush and he never considered what that might feel like. It’s actually quite exhilarating.
“Ah…thank you.” He pushes a lock of hair behind his ear. It doesn’t stay there.
Another shiver runs through Colby’s body, rattling him enough that he tugs the ends of his sleeves over his hands. The air conditioner is on but Jason doubts that’s the only reason for the shivering.
“You’re still cold.” Jason holds his hands out. “You want me to warm you up a bit? I can get you another coffee. Or something to eat.” It is still early enough that Colby might not have eaten breakfast. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
Eyes blinking twice, Colby first answers by glancing at the half-empty cup of coffee still in the cup holder of the tray table. When he looks back at Jason, it’s with a sheepish glint in his eyes.
“I had some coffee,” he says, voice slightly indignant and with a lift of his chin. “I planned on grabbing something from the café but I got…” Colby gestures to all his books. “Distracted. Books, you see, are quite distracting.”
“What’re you reading?” Jason takes a peek at the closed book but can’t quite see the title. “Anything good? And I’m getting you something to eat.”
“Very good, actually, yes.” Colby places a hand over the book, reacquainting himself with an old friend. “One of my favorites. Historical romance and--wait.” He shakes his head and swings his gaze back to Jason. “You’re what?”
“Getting you something to eat,” he repeats. “I’m a physical therapist and a personal trainer. Coffee for breakfast isn’t healthy.” Jason plucks the menu from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of them. “Looks like they have a good selection. Breakfast burritos and sandwiches. Parfaits with fruit. Pastries.” He grins at Colby. “I can make it a combo and get you a hot drink, too. What’ll it be? Anything you want.”
Colby blinks again. Blinks and opens his mouth a few times without actually ever saying anything. He drops Jason’s gaze and runs fingers through his hair. Lifts his gaze again. Tries for more words. Gives up and allows his lips to set in a line.
A chuckle rumbles through Jason’s chest. Not only is Colby Kent positively adorable in most every way, he’s even more adorable when he’s flustered. Jason’s wading through uncharted territory, tiptoeing around the edges of something with someone he doesn’t really know. After what happened, though, it’s good to get some food in him, especially if he hasn’t had anything today. Plus, Jason doesn’t like the idea of him not eating.
“I don’t…Jason, I broke your phone. And then I--” He huffs softly when Jason shakes his head. “Will a banana nut muffin satisfy you?”
Jason nods. Gestures to Colby’s half-finished coffee.
“You want another coffee, too?”
“Yes, please,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”
Jason grabs the attention of the same young lady who he spoke to earlier. She seems quite eager to come to his side. Or rather, eager to be near Colby Kent. Since Colby offers a smile but otherwise keeps his gaze away from her, Jason does all the talking. Enough of it that she never gets the chance to say anything to Colby.
Once Jason fills out the menu card she’s given him--ordering for both Colby and himself--she leaves.
“So, tell me, Colby,” Jason says. “What book made you so distracted that you skipped breakfast?”
~~
Jason’s smile--soft and tender and layered with complexities Colby’s not privy to--is terribly disarming. In fact, Jason himself is terribly disarming. Those shoulders. Those arms. Those muscles. Everywhere. So well-proportioned.
A personal trainer, he’d said. A physical therapist.
Someone who cares about other people’s health rather than their looks and physique. Someone who swoops in to rescue celebrities panicked by well-meaning and excited fans. Someone who can clearly very easily use those muscles to pin a person to the wall and hold them down, and instead uses them to help and for comfort.
Colby, caught in the dark hues of Jason’s brown eyes, tries to find equilibrium. Difficult to manage when he can barely catch his own breath. Not from panic this time. Maybe panic. A different panic.
Because Jason Mirelli is everything that’s ever turned him on; everything he’s always wanted. Colby shouldn’t be wanting anything or anyone. Not now. Too fast. Too soon after recent disasters. These thoughts of muscles and kindness belonging to a physical therapist whose phone is currently broken because of Colby’s carelessness are dangerous.
He’s still healing in so many ways. Those bandages he haphazardly threw over his heart the morning after that last heart-breaking night with Liam are not ready to come off yet. Colby wonders what Jillian might think. Then again, Jillian had been against him taking the train in the first place. The only reason Colby is here at all is because he’d wanted to jot down some more notes before meeting with Ben this afternoon to discuss their latest project. Prospective project, anyway.
Colby thought an early train would be safe. Less people. He is doing better these days. Most days. He knows he’s not exactly ready for anything or anyone, and might not ever be again.
Besides, dangerous as such thoughts might be, they don’t really matter. They’re all just fluff inside Colby’s mind.
Surely, Jason doesn’t really care whether or not Colby’s eaten today. He doesn’t really care if Colby’s cold. Or about the tragic gay romance that’s kept him from his breakfast.
But then, Jason had noticed panic from across a train and stepped in. Took charge. Cared enough to distract Colby’s panic with direction, diverting it to something else, and wanted to keep him warm with an offered sweatshirt. Ordered them food and now waits patiently for Colby to respond to his previous question. Which Colby, admittedly, has forgotten while disarmed by Jason’s smile.
“I’m sorry.” Colby shakes his head. Remembers Jason telling him apologies were not necessary. “Oh, right, you said not to do that. Apologize. I’m sor--” He sighs. “What was your question again?”
“Your book,” Jason says, unperturbed by inadequate listening skills. “What’s it about?”
“Oh. Yes. Right. Ah, I’m not entirely sure if you’d really be interested.” Being polite, most likely, because Colby’s asked him to stay and he’s so kindly obliged. Jason raises an eyebrow at this, however, and Colby rethinks his earlier assumption. “It’s a Regency romance set during the Napoleonic Wars. And, actually, it’s based on the historical Will Crawford’s notes and letters about Captain Stephen Lanyon…”
He goes on to tell Jason the beautifully tragic story of Will and Stephen. Their love for one another. How poignant and powerful their story’s been told by the famous but reclusive author, George Forrest. How painfully splendid their ending is. The loss. The tragedy. The love enduring beyond both.
Such an important story to be told.
One of Colby’s absolute favorites. He loves everything about it. Even the ending. Even if he can find a way to give Will and Stephen their happy ending. Something the world so desperately needs.
“You’re talking about Steadfast,” Jason says after Colby finishes dropping every little bit of detail from the book he can. A sponge wrung out, spilling words everywhere. “The George Forrest novel.”
“You know it!” Colby exclaims, thrilled that Jason’s read it and horrified that he’s just spent about twenty minutes explaining every part of the story to someone who already knows it. “And you let me babble on and on about it like that?”
Jason smiles again and nudges a muffin, which evidently came during Colby’s rambling about tragic historical romances, in his direction.
“I like listening to you. You love this story, don’t you? More than just an average love for a book. It means something to you.”
More than something, and Colby’s not entirely sure what it means that Jason’s noticed. Either Jason is remarkably intuitive--more than Colby first suspected--or Colby unintentionally lowered walls and allowed him to see over them. Does Jason really make him feel so comfortable that he’s revealed so much about himself?
Granted, Colby’s never made his love for such things a secret. It’s possible Jason has seen interviews. But then, Colby can’t recall ever mentioning this book in particular. Perhaps it is because Jason makes him feel safe. Makes him want…want what, exactly?
Colby scolds himself. He shouldn’t be wanting anyone, wanting anything. Not now. He knows the inevitable end results. He’s also acutely aware of his flaws and inadequacies. These thoughts are no good and Colby knows he should pack them away in a neat little box to store them along with all the others.
“You said you’d eat,” Jason says. “I’d feel better if you did.”
Colby considers this phrasing and wonders if Jason’s said it in such a way on purpose. He can’t possibly know that Colby likes pleasing people. Or that he’s always liked guys who can step in and take charge, filling up a room with their presence. Someone like…someone like Jason.
To distract himself from further dangerous thinking, Colby picks up the muffin and takes an extra big bite of it. He makes a show of chewing even though there’s a bit too much in his mouth. Another thought he quickly banishes.
“You know what you look like when you do that?”
The question comes with a glint in Jason’s eyes and a tug at the corners of his mouth. Teasing, then, only Colby isn’t sure what he’s getting at. He pauses his chewing and shakes his head.
Jason leans in a bit closer, not enough to invade Colby’s space but he’s intrigued enough to breach a little more and inch closer to Jason.
Jason murmurs, “A stud muffin.”
The comment, so absurd and ridiculous, catches Colby so off guard that his abrupt laugh makes him spray crumbs everywhere. This, in turn, causes Jason to laugh so hard he almost doubles over. He also grabs the bottle of water he ordered and hurries to hand it over to Colby. Worried he might choke on laughter and muffin.
Colby accepts it and quickly takes a sip. Then he takes another to fully wash it all down and claps a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing even harder. While the water has definitely kept Colby from choking on food, it’s increasingly difficult not to spit it everywhere, and the train seats do not need a shower courtesy of Colby Kent’s hysterical laughter, thank you very much.
Since such a silly pun like that aligns perfectly with Colby’s sense of humor, it takes quite a few minutes for him to settle down. Every time he thinks he’s gotten control of himself, he and Jason catch eyes and they both dissolve into more laughter.
After several minutes of the same thing--of splitting sides and diamond tears glistening on their lashes--they finally manage to stop long enough for Colby to respond with actual words.
“Anyone can look this way,” he says. “There’s muffin to it.”
Horrible as the joke is, it’s enough to throw them both back into another round of laughter. Their laughter eventually catches the attention of some of the other passengers, and while Colby does his best to stifle himself Jason sort of squares his shoulders. Blocks their view of them. Well, of Colby. Hard not to see Jason. Muscles and girth and height and all.
Colby’s hand--possibly during the fits of laughter or upon noticing the spectators--has landed on Jason’s wrist. Jason does nothing to indicate he doesn’t want it there and Colby likes the warmth beneath his palm. When he slides his hand a little, slipping his fingers with Jason’s, Jason doesn’t even hesitate. He simply accommodates for Colby’s fingers and lets him hold his hand.
The touch, the physical contact, even with a stranger on the train, makes him feel safe. Protected. Like Jason really might use those muscles to protect him from over-enthusiastic fans. Or cruel toxic exes. Or even the mean little voice in Colby’s own head.
“So, Colby.” Jason’s thumb traces soft circles over the top of Colby’s hand. “Are you going to San Diego for business or pleasure?”
“Well.” Colby takes a second to think about that. “Both, really. I’m meeting with Ben Rogers. He’s a brilliant writer, you see, and we’re hoping to convince him to work on a potential project.”
“We?”
“Me and Jillian. Jillian Poe,” he clarifies. “A friend and the best director I’ve ever worked with. We’re hoping--well.” Colby grins and drums fingers over the notebook he’d been working in earlier. “If we get this to go through it’ll be just…magnificent.”
If that’s even a strong enough word for it. Colby isn’t bad with words. He’s even done some writing on other projects. Without credit, of course, he doesn’t need anything like that.
But this.
This project will be his baby.
Colby’s already gotten permission from George Forrest himself to go ahead and try to turn his breathtaking novel into a movie. If a gruff do what you want at the abrupt end of a phone call seeking permission counts. But Colby’d gotten the permission and he wants so badly to see this through to the big screen.
To have Steadfast, such an important story to be told with the world, reach an entire new audience in a new medium quite honestly makes Colby’s heart swell.
Of course, this project doesn’t only belong to Colby and he doesn’t know if it will even happen so it’s not for him to share. Not yet, anyway. Maybe sometime soon he can tell Jason exactly what--
Colby reins in this thought, confused at its appearance.
“Uh.” Colby clears his throat. “And you, Jason? What brings you to San Diego today?”
The question sees Jason’s gaze falling. The expression can easily be read as embarrassment but Colby thinks it more likely nervousness. Wanting to help, even if he can’t do much, Colby places his other hand over Jason’s. This extra touch must soothe his nerves since he takes a quick look at their hands and then glances up with a smile.
“I have…an audition.”
Colby’s jaw drops. “But you said--”
“Not your kind of audition. It’s more of a job interview in front of cameras. Sort of.”
“Would you care to expand on that? You don’t have to, of course, but if I can help you with any audition tips, I’d be happy to.”
Nerves still dance through Jason’s eyes as he brings his free hand behind his head to scratch it. He inhales deeply and exhales sharply.
“I have an audition to be an instructor for Fit-Tron.”
Jason goes on to tell Colby exactly what that means and what it is he hopes to bring to the fitness company. As he does, Colby’s heart does impressive somersaults. Many of them. Jason is not only carved out of pure muscle, he’s filled with real genuine kindness. He wants to make the world easier for people. Better. For no other reason than to bring something good to people who might need it.
Colby decides right on the spot that Jason Mirelli is someone he could fall in love with. Someone he would be honored to have at his side during red carpet premieres and fall into bed with after champagne filled after parties and come home to and unwind with after long days on set and press tours and interviews.
His heart flutters at the thought. At the wanting.
It ought to know better, really.
Colby should not be wanting.
Especially not someone who couldn’t possibly want him in the same way.
Maybe Colby can’t be what Jason deserves but he can be helpful now and offer assistance with stage fright and audition nerves.
“I can help, I think,” Colby says. “If you’d like. I do have some experience in the area of auditions, you see, so I can give you some pointers.” He hopes that hasn’t come out very arrogant. He did not mean it to be.
“I…” Jason nods. “I’d like that.”
Colby shares with him everything he can possibly think of. Of course, this sort of audition is different from what he’s used to but some things must be the same and Colby can hope to be of some use. Almost like slipping into a role. He can do that much.
As Colby’s talking, he can’t help but notice that Jason keeps inching more food in his direction. Without even realizing until he takes a bite of it, Colby’s not only eaten the entire muffin, but also some fruit and half of a cheese Danish.
When Jason pushes another bottle of water his way, Colby is in the middle of licking sweetness from his thumb and tries to glare at him. He doubts very much that he’s mustered up enough fierceness for the expression to really count as a glare but Colby gives it his best.
So much for being a talented actor.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Colby says, both teasing and accusing. “You’re not as subtle as you think, Mr. Physical Therapist. I can see right through those big muscles of yours.” Jason, smirking and snickering, glances at his muscles. “All right, perhaps not your muscles, but I still know what you’re doing.”
Somehow fixing both a smug and innocent look in his eyes, Jason bats his lashes and shrugs, and Colby wonders if he wouldn’t be perfect on the big screen, too.
“I have no idea what you mean.” Jason chuckles again when Colby narrows his eyes. “I’m just a muscle head.”
“No, no. You can’t fool me, Jason Mirelli. You have lots of layers. Just admit it.”
“Okay, fine, you caught me, Colby Kent.” Jason gestures to himself. “So many layers.”
“Like a cake,” Colby decides. “A pumpkin spice cake with cinnamon flavored frosting. Oh! Or a chocolate potato cake. I know, I know,” he says with a dramatic wave of his hands. “It might not sound very appetizing, but it’s actually very delicious and not all that difficult to make, if you can believe that. I like to make it with caramel icing, but it’s just as good with any flavor you’d like.”
“That…sounds wonderful, actually,” Jason replies, softly. “I don’t mind being yo--a chocolate potato cake. It’s different. And you like it.”
Until he says this, Colby hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten. They’re both inclined toward each other. Close enough that a little more would make it very easy to kiss. As if noticing as well, Jason shifts his weight and eases away. Colby can’t tell if he does it because he doesn’t want to be so close to him or as an attempt not to invade Colby’s space. Funny, though, Colby hasn’t even flinched from him. Not once.
Colby opens his mouth to respond before he even knows what it is he wants to say but he never gets a chance to reply anyway. Overhead, the conductor announces that they’re pulling into the station and apologizes again for the delay.
The announcement surprises Colby. Jason, too, if the way he bolts upright is any indication. Colby barely even noticed that they’d been moving at all let alone made it all the way to San Diego already.
“O-oh.” Colby shakes his head. “I guess we’re…we should probably get off. The train, I mean. Of course, I mean the train, ignore me.”
Jason chuckles. “Do I have to? I guess you’re right. About getting off the train.”
“Right.”
They don’t move, though. Not until the rest of the passengers are gone and it’s clear that they can’t really stay any longer.
When Colby takes his hand back, the loss is almost palpable. He’s been holding Jason’s hand so long it feels strange not to now. But he has to let go so he can pack up his things and leave. Among other reasons.
“Uh. I should probably…” Jason points with his thumb back to where he’d originally been seated. “Get my stuff.”
Colby smiles and nods. No need for this disappointment to wash over him. This was a train ride. Nothing more.
“Yes. Thank you, Jason. For your help today. It was very kind of you and you didn’t need to do it but thank you. And good luck this afternoon. You’re going to be splendid, I know it.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “But you’re welcome, anyway. And thank you.”
They smile at each other again and Jason remains where he is a heartbeat longer than probably necessary, but Colby doesn’t mind. Then he gets up and gathers his things to leave. Colby does the same.
“Well,” Jason murmurs as they exit the train and step into the station. “It was nice talking to you, Colby.”
“Jason, you too. It was lovely meeting you.”
“You, too,” he says even though he’s already said it. “Um.”
“I hope…” What? They bump into each other again? They can do this again sometime? No. “I hope everything works out for you. You deserve it.”
“Same to you,” Jason replies. “Whatever you’re working on. I can tell it’s important to you. You deserve it, too.”
For another few seconds, they stand there gazing into each other's eyes. Maybe, if Colby tries hard enough, he can make time slow down. Even if only for a few moments. Time, as it turns out, is not so easy to command, and it stretches on and pulls both of them apart.
“Bye, Colby,” Jason says and actually starts to leave.
“Goodbye, Jason.”
Colby does the same. He turns, headed in the opposite direction, and tries very hard to smother the urge to cry. How can he possibly feel as though he’s lost something when he never had it in the first place?
“Colby!”
Heart swelling several sizes, Colby ignores what it means that he already recognizes the voice and knows for a fact that it’s Jason calling him and spins around to see him jogging to catch up to him.
“Jason,” Colby breathes. And clears his throat. “A-are you all right?”
“Yes.” He nods. Shakes his head. Shrugs. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I mean…I don’t know, maybe I’m way off base and this might be completely out of line and if it is you can tell me to go to hell. Uh. Would you…maybe, I can give you my number? And it’s totally up to you if you want to use it, you don’t have to give me yours, of course, but maybe we can…” Jason closes his eyes as if unsure if he should say whatever else is on his mind. “Bake a cake?”
Colby’s mouth tugs itself in a delighted smile. He tries to keep it together, drinking in everything about Jason and this moment.
“Bake a cake?”
“We can try one layer? Add another if you want after that?”
Everything about that sounds positively wonderful. Colby permits himself a moment to fantasize what it might be like if Jason really did desire him for him. For his brain and his heart and his silly ability to incorporate baked goods into everyday conversation, and not because of his connections and name and bragging rights.
His heart pulses with this thought.
“I would love to bake a cake with you, Jason,” Colby whispers. “Yes.”
Eyes wide and sparkling, Jason looks at him as though stunned by his answer. Colby dares to hope that it’s because Jason genuinely likes him and not just because he’s Colby Kent. He didn’t ask for Colby’s number, after all, just offered his own. Jason doesn’t take it back either when he hands Colby his number scribbled on a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook.
Their fingers brush together when Colby takes it from him, sparks scattering across his skin and settling into his heart.
Maybe today is a good day for Colby to be brave. To let himself believe that someone could one day fall in love with him.
It’s certainly a good day to be grateful for train delays and overzealous fans and fake bodyguards. Breakfast foods and historical romances. Auditions. Cake metaphors and the stranger on the train who’s sweet and kind enough to make them.