diva.”
“I would if you’d quit lecturing me.”
“Let’s call a truce, okay? You shore up those street smarts, and I’ll stop treating you like you’re twelve.”
“Deal.”
Chapter 7
BRYCE COULD tell that Seth was still smarting from his remarks, but he wasn’t going to apologize a second time. One of Mark’s main complaints—which Bryce refused to divulge—was that Seth was inattentive and spacey, but not in an egotistical I-am-the-greatest-don’t-fuck-with-me kind of way. His failing, if one chose to call it that, was more subtle. Seth was almost always caught up in his head, plotting scenarios, observing strangers for future reference, dealing with imaginary heroes and villains, choosing the perfect cover, and tying up all the loose ends that were so much a part of his writing world. Very often, he forgot the flesh and blood partner whose needs were just as important, if not more, than Seth’s current work in progress.
When asked if he felt neglected, Mark had assured Bryce he was okay with this side of Seth’s personality, but once in a while, Bryce got a glimpse of a relationship that seemed rather one-sided from where he was standing. According to Mark, forgotten bills and mundane errands were a given, home-cooked meals a thing of the past, dusty furniture and piles of laundry par for the course. Mark’s biggest pet peeve was coming home to a kitchen that looked exactly like he’d left it after breakfast. Would it have killed Seth to step away from the computer for thirty minutes to wipe the counters and run the dishwasher? Mark never doubted Seth’s love, but he’d wished many times that his partner were as anal about housework as he was about his writing. After all, Mark worked full-time, whereas Seth was his own boss. No one would dock his pay if he decided to take a little time each day for some things that would make Mark’s life easier. He used to, back in the day, before he got on bestseller lists and had deadlines and commitments.
These gym confessions, along with vivid memories of contentious parents, simply reinforced Bryce’s belief that relationships on the whole were doomed to fail. He’d shied away from them in high school, and his one and only attempt in college had ended badly. Through the years, Bryce gained a reputation as a player, which was preferable to being stuck in a miserable situation. He was a huge fan of the Grindr app and used it without compunction. Monogamy was unrealistic, in his opinion, and he couldn’t understand the big rush to get married when half of marriages ended in divorce.
The cab ride back to the hotel was uncomfortably silent, and Seth continued to freeze him out after they stepped into their room. Bryce ignored him. What he did instead was look over tomorrow’s schedule and then pick up the hotel phone to place an automated wake-up call.
“How much time did you give us?” Seth asked, apparently aware of Bryce’s every move.
“Two hours. That should give you enough time to get ready and grab some breakfast before the bus takes off.”
“After what happened this morning, there’s no way I’m having breakfast downstairs,” Seth proclaimed.
“You need to eat something before we go, or you’ll never last until lunch.”
Seth grimaced. “I might grab a yogurt or energy bar if they have it.”
“Take another one of those pills, and you should be fine in the morning.”
“Okay,” Seth agreed. “Would you call back and set the wake-up for six instead of seven?”
“Why in hell do you want to get up so early?”
“I like to write in the morning when I’m fresh,” Seth explained.
“You think for once you can change your routine?”
“Nope.”
“And what am I supposed to do while you’re clicking away?” Bryce complained.
“Sleep.”
“Impossible,” Bryce said. “I sleep with one eye open.”
“Is it the noise or the light that’ll bother you?”
“Both.”
“I suppose I could go downstairs,”
“I would if you’d quit lecturing me.”
“Let’s call a truce, okay? You shore up those street smarts, and I’ll stop treating you like you’re twelve.”
“Deal.”
Chapter 7
BRYCE COULD tell that Seth was still smarting from his remarks, but he wasn’t going to apologize a second time. One of Mark’s main complaints—which Bryce refused to divulge—was that Seth was inattentive and spacey, but not in an egotistical I-am-the-greatest-don’t-fuck-with-me kind of way. His failing, if one chose to call it that, was more subtle. Seth was almost always caught up in his head, plotting scenarios, observing strangers for future reference, dealing with imaginary heroes and villains, choosing the perfect cover, and tying up all the loose ends that were so much a part of his writing world. Very often, he forgot the flesh and blood partner whose needs were just as important, if not more, than Seth’s current work in progress.
When asked if he felt neglected, Mark had assured Bryce he was okay with this side of Seth’s personality, but once in a while, Bryce got a glimpse of a relationship that seemed rather one-sided from where he was standing. According to Mark, forgotten bills and mundane errands were a given, home-cooked meals a thing of the past, dusty furniture and piles of laundry par for the course. Mark’s biggest pet peeve was coming home to a kitchen that looked exactly like he’d left it after breakfast. Would it have killed Seth to step away from the computer for thirty minutes to wipe the counters and run the dishwasher? Mark never doubted Seth’s love, but he’d wished many times that his partner were as anal about housework as he was about his writing. After all, Mark worked full-time, whereas Seth was his own boss. No one would dock his pay if he decided to take a little time each day for some things that would make Mark’s life easier. He used to, back in the day, before he got on bestseller lists and had deadlines and commitments.
These gym confessions, along with vivid memories of contentious parents, simply reinforced Bryce’s belief that relationships on the whole were doomed to fail. He’d shied away from them in high school, and his one and only attempt in college had ended badly. Through the years, Bryce gained a reputation as a player, which was preferable to being stuck in a miserable situation. He was a huge fan of the Grindr app and used it without compunction. Monogamy was unrealistic, in his opinion, and he couldn’t understand the big rush to get married when half of marriages ended in divorce.
The cab ride back to the hotel was uncomfortably silent, and Seth continued to freeze him out after they stepped into their room. Bryce ignored him. What he did instead was look over tomorrow’s schedule and then pick up the hotel phone to place an automated wake-up call.
“How much time did you give us?” Seth asked, apparently aware of Bryce’s every move.
“Two hours. That should give you enough time to get ready and grab some breakfast before the bus takes off.”
“After what happened this morning, there’s no way I’m having breakfast downstairs,” Seth proclaimed.
“You need to eat something before we go, or you’ll never last until lunch.”
Seth grimaced. “I might grab a yogurt or energy bar if they have it.”
“Take another one of those pills, and you should be fine in the morning.”
“Okay,” Seth agreed. “Would you call back and set the wake-up for six instead of seven?”
“Why in hell do you want to get up so early?”
“I like to write in the morning when I’m fresh,” Seth explained.
“You think for once you can change your routine?”
“Nope.”
“And what am I supposed to do while you’re clicking away?” Bryce complained.
“Sleep.”
“Impossible,” Bryce said. “I sleep with one eye open.”
“Is it the noise or the light that’ll bother you?”
“Both.”
“I suppose I could go downstairs,”
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