But he drank up the media shots of him, and he watched the highlights whenever he could stream them. Orion hadn’t pitched at a single one yet, but there would be occasional shots of him warming up, and Hervé set those on repeat.

  He missed those arms, and his warmth, and the soft way he’d kiss Hervé—not like he was breakable, but like he was worth tenderness. He missed Orion’s deep rumble, and his laugh, and how he was just so fucking unrestrained with his emotions, no matter if they were good or bad.

  He was hurt, of course, when Orion had all but shoved him away. That pain hadn’t quite cleared up, but being able to trust him had never been in question. Especially now that he was speaking with Thierry again without his throat being clogged with guilt.

  Thierry made it clear that they’d never get their relationship back, but Hervé wasn’t quite sure he wanted it. It was odd to know that Thierry worried about being part of the problem, but in a way, he was. Thierry had given up somewhere along the line and just stood back, helping everyone else enable Hervé’s destruction.

  Hervé would never, ever blame him for it. Hell, if the roles had been reversed, Hervé would have probably walked away long before taking a bullet. Thierry was and always would be a better man than him.

  But their old life was dangerous, and every now and again, Hervé lost himself to the fear that he’d be tempted by it again. Every audition he went on, every callback, every chat with his agent had him shaking because it was too close to what had him nearly falling apart.

  Part of the conditions of his rehab was that he avoid most of the temptations that had created his addictions, and so much of that was rooted in his job.

  How could he work closely with the people from his past who were still knee-deep in that lifestyle without slipping?

  “Are you going to fall asleep on me?” Matis asked.

  Hervé blinked, then shook his head and straightened his shoulders so the man could finish his trim. His hair was dark again—closer to his natural color—and there was a bit of new growth showing where he was going slightly grey. Hervé normally would have panicked and hidden himself away, but now, he embraced it.

  He hadn’t gone back to his near-starvation diet. He hadn’t injected Botox or fillers. He hadn’t called his plastic surgeon for a lift.

  He let Matis give him a microdermabrasion facial and add a little bit of hair color to get rid of the blond. He let him sculpt his brows a bit and pluck a few stray hairs from his neck. And then he called it a day.

  “He’s going to come in those tight little baseball pants the second he sees you,” Matis said, staring at Hervé in the mirror.

  Hervé rolled his eyes and shifted away from his friend. “That’s disgusting.”

  Matis scoffed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about that more than once. Michel has me watching these godforsaken American sports, and it’s giving me ideas.”

  Hervé laughed, knowing exactly how that felt. He’d never really given a shit about baseball players, even when he was with Pietro, but meeting Orion had changed that. He’d even taken to watching the Denver NHL team play from time to time, and while no one came close to capturing his attention the way Orion did, he could appreciate a few of those butts.

  “Well, maybe if he comes to visit, I’ll ask him to bring a few friends,” Hervé said.

  Matis pulled a face. “Don’t you dare. I don’t think either of us could take it.”

  Hervé laughed, knowing he was kidding. Matis had a ring on his finger and a wedding date planned. And he and Michel had become a fixture in his life now that he was back in Paris and trying to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

  Setting his comb down, Matis laid both hands on Hervé’s shoulders and squeezed him. “When do you speak to him, chouchou?”

  Hervé almost laughed about how Matis had picked up on the little nickname Michel had given him, but it made him feel like family, so he said nothing. “Late, I think. He’s at his practice, and then they have other…sports things to do,” Hervé said with a wave of his hand.

  “And you’ll be up for it?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” Hervé admitted, bowing his head to stare at his lap. “I need him.” After a beat, he slid from the chair and set the cape over the arm before walking around to face his friend.

  Matis took him by the shoulders again and pressed a long, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You deserve him.”

  Hervé started to shake his head. “No—”

  “You deserve him,” Matis repeated. “I remember what it was like before. I remember the anger in your eyes and the pain. I saw that same thing in Michel. I know what it’s like to be hurt by someone going through it all.”

  Hervé squeezed his eyes shut, but he opened them when Matis touched his chin. “You deserve to have the people you need. It’s why we’re here. And it’s why he’s going to text you and then see your beautiful face on that screen. And someday soon, he’ll have his arms around you again.”

  Hervé was too terrified to hope, but he couldn’t ignore the small flame now flickering warm in his chest.

  It was almost two in the morning when Orion called. Hervé jolted from his sleep, sitting up in a half panic before he realized the sound was his phone. He answered, falling back, trying to breathe through his pounding heart.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, sweet thing. I know it’s late. I’m so sorry. I got stuck in this fucking meeting, and everyone was drinking, and I just managed to get out of it. I was actually hoping to leave you a voicemail.”

  Hervé winced as he rolled onto his side. “You didn’t want to see me?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you. There’s no chance in hell I’d fuck with your sleep schedule if I don’t have to.”

  Hervé laughed quietly. “Living this many hours apart, I don’t think we have much choice. But I kept my laptop by my bed.”

  Orion was quiet for a long beat. “You still want to?”

  “Yes,” Hervé said, his words couched in a yawn. He pressed his fingers to his lips until he could speak again. “I need to see your face, chéri.”

  “Fuck, I…” Orion let out a ragged breath. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve heard you call me that?”

  Hervé did—almost down to the hour, because he’d been counting the seconds since he’d heard Orion’s voice addressing him directly. It was strange, though, because he’d expected to be overwhelmed when he finally spoke to Orion again, but instead, it was like coming home.

  “Let me set everything up,” Hervé said. “Give me five minutes?”

  “I’ll give you however many minutes you need,” Orion swore.

  He was clearly overcompensating, but Hervé decided to let him. He understood perfectly well what that felt like. “I’ll speak to you shortly,” Hervé told him, then quickly hung up so he didn’t linger on the sound of Orion’s voice.

  Throwing his legs over the bed, he quickly scrubbed his hands over his face, then went for a quick piss before hurrying to the sink to wet his hair. He was a mess from sleep, his face creased from his pillow, but he decided not to care. He tamed a few wild locks that were sticking up in the back, then hunted down his robe before slipping back into bed and pulling his laptop beside him.

  It took him a few moments to fire up his program, then he sent his info to Orion in a text and waited on the edge of a tense breath for the call request.

  It took three minutes, which felt like three hours, before the app began to chime, and his fingers shook over the trackpad as he clicked Accept. The screen was dark for a second and far too silent…

  And then it connected.

  Orion’s face appeared like a goddamn angel with the soft Denver dusk behind him in his bedroom window. Hervé had never seen his place before. Hell, he knew so little about Orion’s life outside of that little cottage in Brittany, and yet, it was almost like he recognized the background.

  “Hey, sweet thing,” Orion murmured.

  His voice sounded different over the speaker, but it was enough. Hervé touched the edge of his laptop and wished he could feel the warmth of Orion’s skin against his hand. “Bonsoir,” he murmured. “I missed your voice.”

  Orion’s eyes fluttered closed, and he tipped his head forward. “I can’t believe you’re talking to me right now. I seriously thought you were going to eventually tell me to go fuck myself.”

  Hervé choked on a laugh. “Tu me manques vachement, chéri. There’s no way I could tell you anything but yes.”

  Orion’s eyes darkened. “Is that so?”

  Hervé licked his lips nervously, but he nodded in spite of his hammering heart. “Yes. It’s so.” Most of the time, he hated when Americans got all hot for his language, but something about the way Orion’s eyes darkened set him on fire. Maybe it was because Orion was turned on that the words came from him. Like he could say anything at all, and Orion would melt. He leaned in close. “Je brûle de pouvoir encore de toucher.”

  Orion shuddered and let out a quiet breath. “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll show you when I see you,” Hervé promised.

  “When?” Orion asked. “Does that mean—”

  “I’ll only stay away if you want me to stay away,” Hervé vowed, meaning it with his whole chest.

  “No. God, no. I’ve regretted every single second since I walked out of that house,” Orion said, his voice rough. “If it had been any other time, I would have gotten on a plane to come after you. I almost took the leave my boss offered me.”

  Hervé’s desire began to dim, replaced with a sort of wonder and disbelief because my God, he wasn’t worth that. But the sincerity in Orion’s tone was enough to make his knees tremble. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  Orion looked hurt, flinching slightly. “I know. I know you needed to get over what I—”

  “No,” Hervé said in a rush, shaking his head. “I mean, yes. I needed to process the way it hurt, but it was good. Everything that happened to me, it happened so fast.” He snapped his fingers. “I was hurt, then suddenly, I was in rehab, and my mother was telling me I was worthless for destroying my career. And then she told me I had to hide away in some cottage in the middle of nowhere until I could figure out how to cure this,” he tapped his temple. “So I didn’t embarrass her.”

  “Can I meet her?” Orion asked, his voice almost a growl. “Just to talk.”

  Hervé laughed and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “She’s not worth it. But for a good, long while, I thought she was right. I thought I needed to be punished because I had almost destroyed my soul to live up to her expectations, and I couldn’t even do that right.”

  “I’m glad you failed,” Orion said.

  Drawing his lower lip between his teeth, Hervé nodded. “So am I. I have Michel and his husband now. And I’ve been making amends with Thierry.” He closed his eyes for the next part. “And my head has been so quiet, which means I was able to listen to my heart when it told me I was falling in love with a man I had just met.”

  “Hervé…”

  “I’m not afraid of feeling these things,” Hervé went on, not letting Orion speak just yet. He needed to get all of this out. “Not like I would have been before. I’m not afraid of telling you, even if it scares you off.”

  “It’s not scaring me off. It feels nuts because I don’t even know where you live…”

  “Five seven Rue Pascale, Paris, France,” Hervé parroted quickly, and Orion laughed that deep, gorgeous booming sound that made Hervé shiver all over. “Now you can send me something in the mail.” He finally opened his eyes and saw Orion’s gorgeous ones staring back at him.

  “Could I send myself?”

  Hervé’s heart thumped. “Can your life spare you right now?” The way Orion’s face fell told him enough, but Hervé didn’t mind. “I didn’t think so. But my life can spare me.”

  “You mean, you could—”

  “Yes,” Hervé said. “I can’t come yet. I still need to see a doctor, and I need to figure out what I want to do next, but yes.” He didn’t tell Orion that he’d set up a meeting with his agent to speak about maybe working in the States. He could do stage, he could do movies, or ads, or radio. He could do damn near anything so long as it meant he didn’t have to leave right away.

  Hell, maybe he’d write a book, or he’d teach a class on acting.

  There had to be more than what his mother had tried to shoehorn him into.

  “Hervé?”

  He blinked, realizing he was drifting. “Désolé.”

  “Do you need me to let you go?” Orion asked.

  Hervé quickly shook his head. “No. I need you to keep me.”

  Orion cleared his throat before he managed a smile. “I didn’t mean forever, sweet thing.”

  Hervé nodded, and he reached for the strength he wasn’t sure he had. Courage sans peur. No fear. “I need you to tell me how you want me to touch myself.”

  Orion sucked in air so hard Hervé knew it had to hurt his throat and lungs. He choked for a second, then adjusted his position, which sent the screen rocking from side to side. “Baby. Are you serious?”

  Hervé nodded, and he carefully opened his cardigan to reveal his bare chest. “We didn’t get to do all the things we wanted to. The things you promised. The things I promised.”

  Orion groaned slightly, and Hervé could see his shoulder moving rhythmically. “I know.”

  Shifting onto his back, Hervé propped his laptop on a couple of pillows, pulling them close but far enough that he could give Orion a view. “Are you touching yourself, mon coeur?”

  Orion nodded, his jaw clenched. “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to touch myself?”

  “Yes.” Orion took a slow breath. “Nipples. Did you like when I touched your nipples?”

  “Ouais, but only when you touched them,” Hervé said. It was odd, doing it like this. It wasn’t that Hervé never jerked off, but he didn’t spend time with himself, and Orion was the first person to ever really make him feel something more than just a race to get to the end.

  Orion’s eyes darkened. “Then it’s my hand tonight. My fingers touching you, pinching them.”

  Hervé’s breath caught in his chest as he nodded, and he carefully took one nipple between his thumb and finger, pinching down until he gasped. Orion moaned, and Hervé joined him as he rolled the nub, sending sparks flying under his skin.

  It wasn’t the best he’d ever felt. It was nothing compared to the way Orion felt kissing him on his neck and his shoulders, but it was so much better than being alone.

  “What now?”

  “Part of me wants to draw it out, but I know you’re exhausted, and I’m really worked up, baby,” Orion said, breathless. Hervé could see his arm moving faster, a faint slapping sound of skin in the background, which made his own dick twitch. “Are you hard, sweetness?”

  Hervé nodded. He shifted the laptop further away and propped himself up as he pulled the sheets down to show his tented pajama bottoms. He palmed himself as Orion’s eyes darkened.

  “Put your hand in your pants and touch yourself. Touch your balls first.”

  Hervé’s whole body shuddered as he obeyed, spreading his legs and cupping himself between the legs. His balls were rough and hairy, hot and hanging low with all of his unspilled come.

  “I’m going to put them in my mouth when I see you,” Orion promised, his tone practically feral. “I’m going to make you beg for my mouth on your cock. Hervé, stroke yourself.”

  Hervé was caught up in his words and almost missed the command, but his brain caught up a second later, and he did. He started to feel a little weak-limbed, and he was fairly sure that he was going to have an episode the moment he came, but he didn’t care. He was safe, he was in his bed, and he was with Orion, even if they were an ocean apart.

  Curling his fingers around himself, he gripped lightly the way he liked it and began to move his hand. It looked odd in his pants, shielded from Orion’s view, but something about that was obviously doing it for Orion because he looked seconds away from losing his mind.

  “Tell me more,” Hervé begged, his head tilted back. His eyes were starting to close. “Tell me what else.”

  “I’m going to fucking feast on your ass,” Orion said. “I’m not going to leave a single inch of your body untouched and unspoiled. You’re going to feel like the god you are, my love. Fuck…I’m going to come. Stroke faster, let me hear it. I wanna see you ruin those pants.”

  Hervé obeyed mindlessly, his arm moving so fast it began to burn. It felt odd and restricted by the fabric, but he lost his ability to care as his hips began to meet the rhythm of his wrist, and he began fucking into his hand.

  White-hot heat crashed through him on the heels of Orion’s soft cry, and as he began to spurt over himself, his body went limp. His eyes fell shut, and his breathing was slightly restricted as his chin hit his chest. His come was still dribbling out of him, his dick going softer in the lax grip of his fist, and it took Orion a moment to realize what had happened.

  “Oh, baby. Oh shit. Please open your eyes for me, okay? I’m so sorry. Fuck, I wish I was there. I know you can hear me, so just breathe and let yourself come back to me. God, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

  Hervé managed to get his mouth to work. “Non.”

  “Baby?”

  Hervé’s eyes fought against him, but he moved his limbs slowly and rocked his head from side to side, and finally, he could see again. Everything was a little blurry, but he focused his gaze on the screen and saw Orion sitting close, his chin propped up on his knuckles.

  “I don’t know if that’ll ever get easier,” Orion admitted.

  Hervé took a few cleansing breaths, his head clearing as he rolled to the side and struggled out of his soiled pants. He used them to clean off his stomach and hand, then tossed them to the side before curling around the pillow and pulling the laptop close to his face.

 

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