Chance to Be King (8 page)

 

"The doctor left some meds for when you woke up. Do you feel up to taking them now?"

"In a little bit, maybe" Eric couldn't face raising his head again. He felt a cool hand brush over his forehead.

"Go back to sleep, 'Ric."

Gratefully, Eric obeyed, tumbling back into sleep with a whisper of a kiss on his forehead to ease his way.

When he awoke again, it was light in the room. Eric was completely disorientated, not knowing what the time was or even what day it was, but the most important thing was how much better he felt. The headache had retreated to a dull pinprick behind one eye and the nausea was gone. He looked up to see a note on the nightstand. It only had two words;
Take these
. Eric swallowed the tablets with a mouthful of water and lay back for a few minutes.

He could hear music playing downstairs and decided he was well enough to rejoin the human race. He wanted to say hello first and give his dogs some serious loving, then come back upstairs for a shower.

The desire to be clean, though, became paramount when he went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and was shocked by what he saw. His face was pale and sunken in under the natural tan. Dark circles around his eyes and lank greasy hair completed the picture of disaster.

"You've lost your chance now," Eric told his reflection, "No one is going to put out for the man who puked and pissed all over him."

The feel of hot water pounding on his sensitive head was almost too much but he forced himself to cope as he washed his hair and body; it would help him feel better after all. He brushed his teeth twice and rinsed out thoroughly, but by the time he'd finished Eric was seriously contemplating going back to bed again. He really needed to see Millie and Toby, though, to make sure his babies were okay.

There were some sweats and a t-shirt on the dresser. As Eric dressed he noticed they fit perfectly, despite his height advantage over Thomas.

Leaving the bedroom, Eric went to look for his mutts, wondering if they'd even remember who he was. The music seemed to be coming from the summer room; Thomas' term for the light and airy room where he'd talked to the police.

Eric could hear the sound of a guitar and male vocals. It sounded more blues than country; laidback and mellow. Thomas obviously had it turned down low so he wouldn't be disturbed. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Millie suddenly bolted out of the room, her claws skittering on the stone tiles as she saw Eric and changed direction. Her barks of excitement attracted Toby who joined her, leaping at Eric as he sat on the stairs and almost pinning him in place.

The music stopped mid-song and Thomas came into the hall, a huge smile spreading across his face when he saw Eric. "You look like hell," was his cheery greeting.

Eric was about to respond with his usual 'Fuck you' when it occurred to him that it probably wasn't the most appropriate thing to say now. The time had passed for not-so-innocent flirting.

"Yeah, feel pretty much like I've been dragged into hell and back actually," he admitted as he hugged his dogs, both of them intent on giving him a second shower.

"Want something to eat?" suggested Thomas. "Toast?" Eric asked hopefully, not sure he was up to much more.

 

"Can do. Let your daddy up, kids."

To Eric's amazement, the dogs sat down obediently and waited for him to stand up. Ignoring the niggling worm of jealousy inside him, Eric followed Thomas into the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Thomas waved the coffee pot at him but Eric shook his head, and then wished he hadn't as the dull thump started up again.

"Best not. I'll stick with water."

He sat down at the large table and in short order, toast and a glass of iced water appeared in front of him. Thomas sat down opposite him, munching on his own piece of toast.

"It's good to see you up again."

 

"It's good to be vertical again," Eric admitted. He drank the water but couldn't quite finish the toast.

Thomas was looking at him with frown lines between his eyes. "Do you get those headaches a lot?"

"Yeah. At least once a film. Normally it's when I'm stressed. The medication helps to keep it under control but if I forget to take it I get a whopper like this."

"Have you had them all your life?"

"Just since I got successful. I never really get any vacation time between films. I'm usually wrapping one as I start on another."

"It can't be good for you taking all that medication. And why are you overworking?" Eric shrugged, and winced.

Thomas' frown got even deeper as he caught Eric's pain. "Dude, you're gonna burn out if you don't get some downtime." He placed his hand over Eric's. It felt warm and comforting and Eric wanted it to stay there forever.

"I know. I guess I'm worried about not working, not getting the parts. You don't know what it's like, how cut-throat it is."

"Not being a top Hollywood star, you mean?" Thomas withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair.

Eric looked up at the edge in his voice. "I didn't mean…"

Thomas waved his hand. "No, you're right, I don't understand what it's like. But I still don't think it's worth stroking out over, 'Ric."

"It's just so hard to stop the pattern once you start. Every time I get a headache I think 'when the film ends I'll take a break' and then I find I'm starting another film." He smiled ruefully. "They even book in migraine time now. Other stars get time with their kids, I get time with my migraines. God, I needed this vacation so badly."

Thomas snorted loudly. "Yeah, 'cuz this place has been so relaxing. Just a little arson to keep you from missing all the explosions."

"Not so much burn out as burn up!"

The horrified expression on Thomas' face struck him as funny somehow and Eric started laughing, holding his head to stop the pain. Eventually Thomas joined in, although Eric wasn't sure whether it was for the gallows humor or the sight Eric made clutching his head as he laughed.

The laughter felt good, even if it did hurt. The sunlight flooded the kitchen and Eric realized he still had no idea what the time was. There was a clock on the microwave.

"It's two o'clock!" he yelped.

"You slept for over a day but it sounds like you have some serious catching up to do. Gonna tell me you don't wanna go back to sleep?" teased Thomas.

Eric glared weakly but he admitted Thomas was right. "I just want to spend some time with the dogs first, so they don't think I've abandoned them."

"Why don't you spend a lazy afternoon watching some TV with the mutts? I've got some work to do for a while."

"Work?"

 

"Writing. I've got a deadline coming up and everyone is getting impatient with me."

 

"Shit, and you've had me to deal with. I'm so sorry—"

Thomas took his hand again. "It's no problem, 'Ric. I can catch up." At Eric's disbelieving expression, he added, "You've been asleep most of the time you've been here. 'Sides, we've got unfinished business, remember?"

Oh, yeah, Eric remembered. His dick twitched happily, a welcome sign things were returning to normal.

"But for now, daytime TV and a snooze with your dogs. They had a long walk this morning, so they'll be happy to sleep with you."

Eric let himself be herded in the direction of the sofa. He was given more water, the remote control, a blanket, and two large dogs as company.

"Call me if you need anything. I'll just be in the study."

 

"Yes, mom," Eric said cheekily.

One of Thomas' eyebrows flew up comically and his eyes raked over Eric, producing a feeling inside that his mom never had, thank God. Eric may have been down, but he could see Thomas was reminding him that he definitely wasn't out.

Thomas disappeared into the study and Eric settled down with his dogs. They seemed happy and content just to sprawl with him on the sofa. Thomas didn't seem to have any hang-ups about dogs on the furniture, and within minutes they were all asleep, Millie snoring loudly in Eric's ear.

By the following day, Eric felt that he could call himself human again. He'd managed phone calls to his agent, his publicist, and his mom, in that order. Thomas had frowned at him for putting his mom last but Eric pointed out as the first one was the scariest he wanted to get it out of the way.

His agent, a short, plump female with balls of steel and a stare that could take down any uppity star or director, yelled at him for a few minutes about the dangers of the countryside and why the hell wasn't he in LA where at least the crazies were working in the industry?

Eric just held the phone away from his ear until she'd run out of breath. He finally extracted a grudging admission that Thomas seemed to be a sensible man and Eric was allowed to stay— at least until alternative arrangements could be made. A huge concession, as Eric pointed out to Thomas later over a mug of coffee. Sarah's opinion of men started in the gutter and never got any higher than the curb.

He arranged for a replacement car to be sent and asked her to organize some clothes, ignoring her grumbling that she wasn't his damn stylist. After several moments of assurances that he wouldn't step more than one foot away from the house without Thomas as an escort, Sarah finally agreed to let him hang up.

Before he tackled the other calls the phone was taken away from his hand and replaced with a mug of weak tea.

 

At his outraged look, Thomas said, "No coffee yet, and one crazy lady at a time, dude."

 

"I don't think I'll tell Drew or my mom you called them crazy."

"Drew's a female?"
"Nah, just a nagging old woman sometimes."

Drew was a quiet man with an excellent reputation in the industry. He didn't go out of his way to piss off the media and because of it Eric had always enjoyed friendly relations with the media. Even the paparazzi would back off if asked politely. Eric thanked God every day that Sarah had introduced him to Drew when he saw what some of his co-stars had to endure.

A few minutes later Eric called Drew, who assured that him no-one in the media had heard about the fire and his location was still safe. They were still trying to sort out and locate information on the mystery man at the lake because his description didn't match up to any of the stalkers on their records.

Finally he spoke to his mom who, up to this point, hadn't realized he was on vacation.

Eric loved his mom, he really did, but he knew how this call was going to proceed. It took another cup of Thomas' tea —with appropriate facial expressions— to work up the nerve.

It started well but by the time it had
degenerated to 'Eric Andrew Pawlowski' his head was aching again and the nausea was starting to return.

He'd repeated "But, Mom—" three times when the phone was lifted out of his hand.

 

"Mrs. Pawlowski? Hello, my name is Thomas. Eric is staying with me for a few days."

Eric listened in amazement as Thomas not only managed to calm his mother down, but by the end of the conversation was calling her Sandra and promising her his recipe for the meal he'd made Eric on the first night. Thomas wished Eric's mother farewell and laid the cell on the table. Eric stared across at him.

"I don't know whether to hug you or hit you," Eric said.

The mobile eyebrow rose up once more. "Hit me? Why? I got you out of a long and tedious conversation."

"But now she likes you." Eric squirmed on his chair as Thomas looked even more incredulous. "She's always going to be asking after you and wanting to talk to you."

Thomas leaned forward and patted his hand. "Never mind, I'm a big boy. I can cope."

"Now you're being patronizing."
"And you're behaving like a five year old." "Am not!"

"Do I really need to dignify that with a

 

response?"

 

Eric caught Thomas' lips twitching and tried to pout but it was enough to set them both laughing. Thomas looked at him with a speculative glance. "How are you feeling now?"

 

"Tired but better than I have for a while. Why?" "Wanna go for a swim in the lake or go back to bed for a nap?"

Did Eric want to sleep or freeze his balls off and get to see mainly naked Thomas? Was the man stupid? "I don't have a swimsuit."

Oh fuck, was that a challenging look on Thomas' face?

 

"I can provide one if you don't feel brave enough to go skinny dipping."

 

Eric leaned back and smirked at him. "Only if you join me."

"Well in that case…" Thomas swallowed as if he wasn't quite as confident as he was making out. "Done."

Eric swallowed as well, and stood up. Thomas placed the cups in the dishwasher and went to get some towels. Eric hadn't been out since before his migraine so he went in hunt of his sneakers, finding them in the hall closet. He slipped them on, noting the slight residue of pain behind his eyes.

Thomas was waiting for him when he went back into the kitchen, towels in one hand and stroking Millie behind the ears with the other. He looked up as Eric came back into the kitchen.

"Ready to get cold?"

 

"I've just been sick and you want me to freeze my nuts off?"

 

"If it's too much for you, princess, you can always ask me to warm them up." Thomas leered.

"Is that an offer?"
"It's a promise."

Eric told himself it was the migraine that made his stomach flip-flop as they left the kitchen, and not the promise of something that flared in Thomas' eyes.

* * * *
Thomas lied.

Eric told him so when he got his breath back. The lake wasn't cold. It was fucking freezing. Even the dogs had given it up as a bad idea and were meandering along the shoreline.

Thomas would have a hard job finding Eric's balls because he swore they were trying to climb back up into his body. Thomas offered to look for him. Eric told him it would be a cold day in Hell before Thomas would get anywhere near him or his junk.

"You don't mean that." Thomas stood up in the water and started advancing towards him. The water level was just lapping along his hipbones. He was all muscles and taut skin, broad shoulders and narrow hips.

"I mean it," but it sounded weak, even to Eric's own ears. His attention was firmly fixed elsewhere. Elsewhere was beautiful.

"You don't want me to touch you, 'Ric?" That low, husky drawl was hardwired to his dick, he was sure of it.