Page 13 of The Boyfriend Swap

I smiled wide. “I take back what I said. You are the best roomie ever.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

A few minutes later, I jolted from my desk chair as drops of water landed on my arm. “What the…” I looked up to find Perry, naked aside from an eggplant-colored terrycloth towel wrapped low around his hips, grinning at me. Wiping the wetness from my arm with my hand, I said, “You startled me.”

“I know. You looked so serious hovering over your computer like that.” He stood behind me and placed a hand on each of my shoulders. “What are you reading?”

I sighed. “Did you know eighty percent of schools nationwide have been affected by budget cuts since 2008, and fewer schools offer art programs than a decade ago?”

“Isn’t that good news?” he asked, squeezing my shoulders.

I whipped around to face him. “In what way?”

“You teach music, not art,” he said matter-of-factly.

My eyes bugged out. “Seriously? First of all, ‘art’ includes visual artsandperforming arts, and second of all, I don’t want Miss Cassidy to lose her job either. Besides, don’t children deserve a well-rounded education? There’s more to learning than reading and math.” My heart slammed against my chest at both the unfairness of it all and Perry’s nonchalance.

He knelt so we were eye to eye. “Whoa, sweetie. Relax. You’re getting riled up over nothing.” He paused and I watched as his eyes scrolled the piece. “The article mentions Chicago, D.C., Los Angeles, and Philadelphia, but there’s no mention of New York.”

I didn’t respond. What if the Board of Education decided my school should be the guinea pig for these budget cuts in New York?

“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asked, snaking two fingers under the top of his towel suggestively.

“Nothing,” I mumbled. I was more concerned than ever about the future of my school and in no mood for sexy time. Perry wasn’t the type to dwell, and I mostly took my cues from him to maintain perspective. But sometimes, like now, I wished he’d take things more seriously.

“I have an idea. We’re not leaving for your folks until Wednesday. We should go to BOB Bar on Tuesday night.”

“Dancing to old-school hip hop would definitely help loosen me up, but aren’t you working Tuesday night?”

Perry frowned. “Yeah, you’re right.” He glanced around my room with a pensive expression for a moment before tapping a finger to his head. “Got it. I have my casting director workshop tomorrow afternoon, but I’m free after. Let’s go to the Birdland cast party.”

One of Perry’s regular hangouts for years, the Open Mic Night at Birdland brought together superstars in theater with up-and-comers, but after he snagged his first commercial—a teeth-whitening bit that aired mostly during late-night television and infomercials—he’d been less interested in the Broadway crowd and hungry for more screen work. Perry’s manager, Wilson, encouraged him to keep a toe in all aspects of performing arts, claiming if Matthew Morrison could do it, so could he. I didn’t often agree with Wilson, but I did in this instance. “Really?” I glanced up at Perry hopefully.

He nodded. “Anything to get you to smile.”

I grinned at him. It was a bandage, not a solution, but it would lift my mood temporarily. “Mission accomplished.” I tugged at the bottom of his towel until it fell to the ground. “What were you saying before about making me feel better?”

Sidney

I sat on my crème-colored English roll-arm sofa and rolled my eyes up to the high ceiling of my living room while my father droned on about work over the phone. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? I need to head out soon.” After Will finished his shower, we were going for a late brunch at one of the many trendy tapas places in my Lower East Side neighborhood.

“I promised Scott we’d sit down with him at Christmas to discuss the rampant infringement of their assets in the Pacific Rim. Are you caught up?”

“Almost.” I leaned over and straightened out the pile of industry-related magazines I kept on my leather-upholstered ottoman coffee table. “Do you think Christmas dinner is the best time to discuss business? Maybe we can, you know, eat, drink, and be merry for a while?”

My dad harrumphed. “The client comes first, Sidney. If this is your way of saying you’re behind in your research, get to it.”

“I’m not behind. I’m merely trying to enjoy what’s left of my weekend and encourage some semblance of holiday cheer at the party.” The shower turned off, which meant Will would be ready to go in less than twenty minutes. I preferred to use that time admiring Will’s fresh-out-of-the-shower body over discussing clients with my dad. “I really need to get out of here. I’m meeting some friends for lunch.” If my dad knew the “friend” I was joining was already in my apartment, he’d never let me off the phone. His time was more valuable than anyone else’s.

“Your mother created a Word document with the guest list and included a column to indicate if they were family, clients, or potential clients.” He paused. “It probably wasn’t necessary to include family, but better to be overly inclusive than miss someone important, right? I’m emailing it to you now so you can familiarize yourself with anyone new. I just sent it. Did you get it?”

I buried my head between my legs. “I’m offline. I’m on my way out to eat, remember?”

“Can’t you bring it to the restaurant? You can read it between courses.”

With a dejected sigh, I rose from the couch and leaned my hips from side to side in a stretch. When my fitted white sweater rose over my belly, I pulled up my low-rise jeans. “Great idea, Dad. I’ll do that. See you tomorrow.”

I hung up before he could respond and walked to my bedroom with a renewed sense of dread for the upcoming holiday. The night before, Will had adamantly refused to take part in the boyfriend swap. He said he wasn’t comfortable with it and that his boyfriend services weren’t on the auction block. My reference to Perry as a “blond god” didn’t help things. When I realized Will was jealous, I promised he had nothing to worry about. Perry was gorgeous, but from what I’d witnessed, he didn’t have much else going for him. But Will wouldn’t back down from his firm refusal, and I’d promised to drop the subject. It wasn’t worth risking our burgeoning relationship to argue.

---