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He put the book down and wandered to the stacks at the
back of the store. The place smelled like someone s basement,
but the tall bookcases created an insulated, hidden world where
he could think. Thoughts of Kit drifted to the forefront of his
mind. Jeremy had to admit, even in the face of Kit s apparent
infidelity, that he d been half of the problem. Just like the book
said. He d known that hours ago, even before reading those few
pages. No matter what happened to him and Kit, Jeremy knew
he couldn t walk away blameless. In some ways, this whole thing
might even be his fault. When had Kit been anything other than
himself? Honest about what he wanted and needed? Jeremy
laughed out loud. You couldn t get more honest than a cupcake.
Kit s deepening lack of confidence wasn t just about
acting. Jeremy blamed Kit for not communicating, but when was
the last time he had really listened to what his lover had to say? If
Jeremy were honest with himself, somewhere in his mind he still
Jeremy were honest with himself, somewhere in his mind he still
wanted Kit to be the shiny new fame boy he d been when they d
met. Right down to his marrow, Kit knew how to have fun with
fame. He spun its razor s edge like the best juggler and breathed
its fire back at those who tried to use it against him. Or at least
he had when he and Jeremy had first met. Well, they d both
changed since then. A lot. Maybe, just maybe, Jeremy hadn t
been the only one struggling with the growing pains.
Wandering past the cookbooks, he paused. Titles on pasta,
wine, cheese, and fifteen-minute microwaveable meals were
shelved together in no apparent order. He sorted through them,
pulling first one and then the next off the shelves. He flipped
through the pages and tensed when lines with fractions and
abbreviations he didn t understand distorted the text into a
jumbled mess. He slid the book back onto the shelf and began to
walk away.
Pussy.
Kit s voice in his head made him stop. How was he a
pussy? He glanced over his shoulder at the shelves and tensed.
Nearly walked away again. Stopped. Holy shit. He was afraid of
cooking. Afraid he d fail. Afraid& So goddamned afraid he d
make a mess and be beaten for it. A vision of his uncle loomed.
Sweat broke out on Jeremy s upper lip, and he licked at it. The
salty taste of fear coated his tongue, but he made himself face the
shelves and remembered how Kit had made him face fame.
Though maybe face wasn t the right word. More like thrust fame
upon him. He d been scared then too.
upon him. He d been scared then too.
Jeremy smiled at memories of Kit piling designer clothes in
his arms, the private fashion shows at high-end boutiques. All
those hours fucking in dressing rooms where the clerks were
paid not to notice. His cock lengthened, growing heavy against
his thigh at the memories. So many nights after those all-day
shopping sprees sprees Jeremy d bitched about at the time
Kit and he partied at the hot spots. Places where Jeremy d be
seen and talked about after.
If there was one thing Kit knew how to do, it was cultivate
fame. That he didn t do the same service for himself now spoke
volumes. If Kit wasn t doing well, it was because he didn t want
to do well. He d changed. The question was, could and would
Jeremy let Kit be Kit, or would he continue to fight Kit s
struggles to find happiness until it killed the love they d found
together?
Find a book, he told himself, being the parent he d never
known. Find a book and let him teach you how.
He dragged his fingers over countless dusty spines. A book
with a friendly blue picture of kids covered in flour stood face
out on a little stand on the nearest shelf. Jeremy reached for it.
Wary. As if it might leap off and bite him. The Monster Book of
Cookies fell into his hand with a comfortable weight, its spiral
plastic binding something you might find in a toy store. The
dorkiest thing in the world, it claimed to have 1,001 recipes and
came with the previous owner s sticky fingerprints scattered
throughout.
throughout.
Hey, you find what you want? The shop owner s
question made Jeremy look up from his perusal of a
snickerdoodle recipe.
Jeremy closed the book and hefted it in one hand, glad to
be shaken from his musings. Yeah. This.
When he got to the counter, he pulled out his credit card.
Sorry. Cash only. The man eyed the card with disdain.
Fees are too high. I d go broke with all you jokers trying to
make me eat plastic.
Oh. Fuck. He d given all his cash to that kid. Jeremy
looked out the window, then sighed. He lifted the book from the
counter and turned to put it back on the shelf.
Hey.
He paused. The shopkeeper looked at him over the top of
his glasses.
Yeah?
There s a book on you. An unauthorized biography in aisle
three. Sign it and I ll give you the cookie book.
A self-conscious laugh rattled Jeremy s chest. He went to
get the book. Using his fame as currency, he bartered his
signature for The Monster Book of Cookies and took out his
cell. The call to Kit didn t go through, but Jeremy didn t have a
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