Chapter 24: 24. I’m a Patient Guy

Shiro

As I pull up into the driveway of our temporary home, my focus slips from driving to my date with Curtis. To no one’s surprise, it didn’t turn out great. Stilted conversation and awkward jokes grew into uncomfortable silence until we called it a night. Yes, Curtis is cute, but the spark between us is so dim it wouldn’t power up a single lightbulb. What was I thinking when I accepted? Oh, right, I wasn’t. My dick was in the driver’s seat, my dick and my pride, wounded by Keith… what, not suffering through our scenes as much as I was? Ignoring me? Definitely not my greatest moment.

My life would be much easier if I wanted Curtis instead of the prickly movie star, but that’s the problem with life. It refuses to stay in the neat lines we plan for, spilling chaos over everything, leaving me to lust after my co-star in a freaking driveway.

The evening doesn’t count as an utter loss because I had an excellent steak for dinner, but the way Curtis pouted when I said goodbye and departed hinted at his disappointment. Well, there goes my supply of coffee and bagels, I guess. 

Once I kill the engine and climb out of the car, I take a deep breath to clear my head, mesmerized by my breath misting in the frosty air. The open sky above is glittering with countless stars, rendered brighter by the clarity only frost brings. Despite having on a warm coat, I shiver. My system hasn’t adjusted to the low temperatures yet. I doubt it ever will, but the windows of our house spill yellow light into the darkness, and the promise of warmth forces me to pick up my pace.

Looks like Lance and Katie are still awake, probably watching something together, possibly with Hank or Allura, if Lance didn’t scare her off. Did Hank make cookies to go with the movie night? The guy is a wizard in the kitchen, even better than I am. That’s how we bonded, actually, over our mutual love of all things baked. Who needs sex when you have friends and cake, right?

Not paying attention to where I step, I almost trip over something on the stairs. 

“What the hell?”

“Oh. Sorry, Shiro.”

Correction. Not something. Someone.

“Keith? Why are you sitting here, alone in the dark? Your butt must be frozen.”

“I’m Canadian.”

“Right, and you guys eat permafrost for breakfast and sometimes spontaneously catch on fire.” 

I grab his hand and yank him upright. Despite his bold claims, his fingers are ten icicles, and a shiver vibrates through him over and over until he turns into an off-key string. The thin leather jacket he’s wearing looks hot but doesn’t provide actual warmth, so I take off my coat and drape it over his shoulders, ignoring his little huff of protest.

“Such a fucking gentleman.” 

“The gentleman doesn’t want to be responsible for the star of our show freezing to death.”

“And here I thought you cared about me,” he says, but tugs the warm material closer, and I squash the possessive thrill that uncoils in my belly when I watch Keith wrapped in my clothes. 

Mine. 

The word resonates through me, deep and ridiculous. Keith isn’t mine. That’d be like trying to tame a wildfire.

“I do,” I say, closing the gap between us because, clearly, my common sense has left the building, which is now overrun by the tandem of greed and lust. Unlike with Curtis, I can’t deny the pull toward Keith. I want to haul him close until our bodies are flush. I want to sear his lips with mine. I want a lot of things with him, none of them remotely happening. 

“What are you doing here, Keith?” I ask again, hoping he won’t notice how husky my voice has turned.

“Waiting for you.”

Dammit. That’s not helpful at all.

“Lance said you were on a date.” I’m not sure if the hurt note sweeping through his voice is real or just my wishful thinking.

“So instead of going inside and waiting where it’s warm or going home, you decided to turn into a snowman?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not snowing. Besides, the remaster of Titanic could be around the corner, and then the directors will pay good money for actors who have firsthand experience with frostbite.”

“Isn’t that taking method acting to the extreme? And since I don’t expect to star in Titanic, I’m heading inside if you want to join me.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, then.” 

“I came to ask you a favor,” Keith blurts out.

“What kind of favor?”

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“A woman contacted me.” I wait for him to continue, but he only shifts on his feet.

“I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to help you with that. How about asking Lance?”

“It’s not like that. This woman says she’s my mother. Apparently, she heard I was shooting a thing in Canada and wants to meet me.”

Now I regret my joking remark. Keith looks so fragile and lost in my oversized coat as he’s sending me a begging look.

“Would you come with me?”

“That seems private.” It also seems like a job for a friend, which I don’t mention, but Keith hears the silent objection, anyway.

“I don’t have anyone here in Toronto, and I don’t want to face her alone. Please, Shiro.” The quiet plea slides between my ribs like a thin blade, and my chest would have to be made of sturdier materials than blood and bones to refuse him. We’re standing so close I can glimpse the golden windows reflected in those striking eyes. So close his scent floods my senses. Something smoky and elusive, probably an extremely expensive cologne, but dammit, it’s worth every penny. The draw toward him is a magnetic force I find difficult to resist, but even though giving in could lead to disaster, my gaze dips to his lips, and my dick swells within microseconds.

The memory of kissing him only a week ago taunts me. I need to claim his mouth for real this time, but the thing between is so complicated I’m not sure if the kiss would solve it or twist it up even more. 

I could swear the way Keith looked at me in his trailer or during our scenes, he wanted things to be real. He wanted to take them further. Or, another, more likely, possibility—I’m having a dry spell, and I’m hung up on my colleague. Whatever the case, I don’t fool around with closeted guys, despite how hot they are.

“Please, Shiro?” He repeats when the silence between us lingers.

“Okay, I’ll go with you.” Yeah, not a drop of reason left in my body. “When are you meeting her?”

Keith blows a relieved breath. “On Sunday, also known as the only day when we’re not shooting. Thanks, Shiro. I owe you one.” 

“I’ll think of a way you can repay me,” I say, sending him a grin, and he responds in kind. The night chill borders on unbearable with only a sweater, yet I can’t seem to say goodbye and disappear into the house. No, apparently, I prefer turning to ice in Keith’s company over toasty warmth and Hank’s cookies. 

“Did you have fun on your date?” Keith asks.

Does he only ask to be polite, or is he actually curious? My heart gives an excited jolt at the idea Keith might be a little jealous of me. That’s how pathetic I am. 

“It was okay, but that’s about it. You know how it is sometimes. No chemistry. Not like with…”

He arches an eyebrow. “With?”

“No one.”

“Come on, Shiro, you can tell me.” 

“There is someone I’m interested in, but it can’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?” 

I shrug, painfully aware that I’m discussing my crush on Keith with Keith. Could this night get any weirder?

“Don’t tell me someone could be so dumb to ignore what a great guy you are. Is he completely blind? No, wait, he’d have to be deaf, too.” 

“Nothing quite so dramatic. He’s straight. Or deep in the closet.” 

Keith’s breath hitches a fraction. His eyes are wide but defiant as he tilts his head to return my gaze.

“Maybe he just needs some time to sort things out.” 

Heat crackles up my back. Is he suggesting what I think he is? Only one way to be sure. I lean in and whisper into his ear. 

“Then he should know that I’m a patient guy. Some things are worth waiting for.” This time when Keith shivers, it’s not from the cold, but I don’t intend to push further. I made myself clear, and the ball’s in his court now. With a brief nod, he stalks off into the night, still wearing my coat, while I step inside the house, where my friends are ready to assault me with a barrage of questions about my date.

Thank god they don’t have a clue about my meeting with Keith in the driveway, or I wouldn’t get any sleep tonight.

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