A Stroke of Love (BL)

Chapter Five

Rhys missed the dry heat of California summers. He would give anything for 120 degree weather instead of the oppressive humidity of Louisiana. He'd been here for almost a year now, approaching his second summer, and yet he still wasn't accustomed to feeling as if he were breathing through a damp cloth every time he stepped outside. He still wasn't deterred from going for a daily run.

Rhys kept a steady pace as he jogged underneath the canopy of trees in Audubon Park. The summer sun broke through the leaves, throwing dappled spots of warm light onto his skin, brightening up his path. Rhys had always found running to be therapeutic in a sense, but doing so here—whether along iconic routes or through his neighborhood— was different. He found jogging in New Orleans to be meditative. He felt a deep sense of peace as he became acquainted with the city, feeling a connection to the land in a way he never had before. He focused on the rhythmic sound of his feet hitting the pavement. He concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest, making sure his breaths remained even. He allowed his body to take over, giving his mind reprieve once his muscles began to rely on memory. He didn't experience runner's high in the way most people did; Rhys felt calm, more centered, and grounded after he ran. Due to this he preferred to run by himself but today he ran with Nyx, a friend and literary agent from DuPont.

Nyx was one of the first people Rhys met when he moved. He lived next door and happened to see Rhys struggling to move a sofa by himself. Nyx offered his assistance, Rhys insisted that he pay Nyx in the form of food, and after a night spent laughing so hard that Rhys forgot the feeling of homesickness that had been growing in the pit of his stomach, he and Nyx became close. Truth be told, he was also the reason Rhys interviewed at DuPont. Nyx knew that Rhys was a freelance editor and encouraged him to apply for the position, sharing with him the benefits, salary, and other perks of working for a publishing house that really did operate as if they were all a family. When Rhys started at DuPont, that was something that a few of the coworkers teased them about, asking if they actually were family, given their similarities in appearance. Nyx was a few inches taller than Rhys, his complexion was a slightly deeper shade of brown than Rhys' more so umber, with warm yellow undertones, but they did have the same dimpled grin, the same angular jaw, almond eye shape, and aspects of personality. Their relationship was easy and Rhys felt they had bonded as if they were brothers. Nyx actually did remind Rhys of his middle brother, Kaz, which was why he was fine with sharing something as significant as his meditative runs with Nyx.

Nyx was quiet by nature and although the two ran side by side, it was as if Rhys had been jogging alone the entire time. They finished their run in silence, both of them barely winded once they arrived back at their starting point. Nyx unlocked his car and pulled a water bottle from the cooler in the trunk, handing it out to Rhys.

Rhys tied his hair up into a messy bun before accepting the water. He leaned against his bike, taking a long drink. "Thanks man."

Nyx waved him off and took up a similar position beside Rhys. "How's work so far? Regretting accepting the assignment?"

Everyone in DuPont knew that Rhys was the only one foolish enough to take on the disaster that was Lux Broussard. Seasoned editors, editors that had been around longer than Lux had been alive, declined to work with him. The temperamental author rightfully earned his reputation, but Rhys wasn't entirely convinced Lux was this way just because. He shared those same sentiments with Nyx, who shook his head, laughing lightly.

"I've been at DuPont for about the same length of time as Lux. He's always been this way. You find it hard to believe because you're a fan of his work."

To say Rhys was a fan would be a bit of an understatement. He owned and has read every book that Lux has written, multiple times. He originally picked up a novel in the airport, needing something to read as he waited to board. Rhys absolutely loved romance novels, especially bodice rippers but at that time he would only allow himself to read them under certain circumstances. The airport was one of those circumstances because of his anxiety. Rhys flew infrequently enough that he used the prospect of a novel as a reward and a way to distract himself during the flight. Lux's novel stood out amongst the others. The cover wasn't some busty heroine, her tits barely contained in a corset that made a mockery of human anatomy and defied logic, but of arms extending reaching out towards the center, to join together, fingers threaded. For some odd reason the title, Please Don't Let Me Go, gave Rhys a feeling of melancholy and sense of longing. He became so immersed in the story, he nearly missed boarding his plane. Since then, he made it a point to purchase and read every novel Lux penned. His shelves were filled with multiple copies of the same book—some first manuscripts, some limited editions, others having been gifted to him by friends and family. Although he was admittedly a huge fanboy, he didn't wind up at DuPont with the goal to work as Lux's editor, it just... kind of happened.

"It's not that," Rhys argued, "He seems...withdrawn? Like he's purposely isolating."

"I'd be interested to know how you were able to come to that conclusion from one phone call with the man."

"Well," Rhys began, "He's very adamant about not meeting in person. He told me from day one that I could text or email him. He didn't even want to speak on the phone. And then the other day," he paused, his flushed skin and racing heart belying the nonchalant air he forced into his voice as he continued, "he barely opened the door wide enough to actually see who it was."

Nyx was in the middle of tying back his shoulder length locs, and stopped to turn his head, a pierced eyebrow arched. "You went over to his house?"

"I had to apologize," Rhys lamely defended his actions. Without realizing it, he left himself open for Nyx to dig deeper into his business.

"Apologize for what?"

Rhys closed his eyes, lowering his head and grimacing a bit as he brought his hand up to smooth down his pinched eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger. Without meeting Nyx's eyes, he offered bulleted points of what happened between receiving Lux's response to the suggested edits and arriving at his home.

"Wait a minute," Nyx interrupted his story. He turned his body to face Rhys. His eyes were slightly wider than before. "Lux let you in?"

"I'd like to think his main motivation was me holding his take-out hostage," Rhys joked.

Nyx looked downright perplexed. His eyebrows were drawn together, black eyes inky dark in their confusion. "Everyone that has worked with Lux has never been able to make it past the threshold. Or so I've heard," Nyx added.

Rhys remembered Kerin's warning that his efforts would more than likely be greatly wasted. The publicist warned him that the likelihood of Lux not even "entertaining opening the door to speak" with him was astronomically high. "Seemed even his publicist believed I wouldn't even make it to a face-to-face conversation with him."

Nyx pried, "Was meeting him everything you'd hoped it'd be?"

It wasn't actually. Rhys hadn't anticipated being invited inside, let alone having the door almost slammed on his hand, or being practically thrown out. It was a shitty first meeting and yet, Rhys couldn't help the small smile that flirted with the corner of his lips as he thought about the best way to answer Nyx's question.

Nyx mumbled, "There's my answer."

"Hell no," Rhys corrected him. "It was god awful. But..." he trailed off, his flush becoming gradually warmer. There were highlights of having seen Lux face to face. Like, seeing how he looked when he was working. His hair was adorably messy, his sweatshirt too large, and Rhys had no clue Lux liked anime. "He likes anime," Rhys finished, his answer disjointed from the original train of thought.

"You're his editor," Nyx reminded him. "You have a professional working relationship with him. Remember that."

"I don't need the reminders," Rhys lied. The reminder was actually timely seeing as how the only thing on his mind was how small Lux looked in person. He knew the author was on the shorter side, but he didn't know that he would practically tower over the man. He thought about the way a wine-colored blush stained Lux's bronze skin and how the roots of his hair had grown out, but still managed to look stylish because of the contrast of deep black and light lilac.

"Sure," Nyx replied, without an ounce of confidence in Rhys evident in his tone.

"Besides," Rhys ignored his flippancy to point out, "I don't know his sexual orientation. And it's none of my business nor is it my place to ask."

When Eternal Spring was released, the question on every interviewer's lips and at the edge of their fingertips was, "Is Lux Broussard gay?". Instead of articles praising his book for the plot or well written characters, they all focused on combing through his personal life, speculating about his sexual preferences using the fact that he kept his personal life extremely private as a means to come to the conclusion that he was gay and hiding a partner. Rhys had been in the business long enough to know that just because an author writes queer relationships doesn't mean they're a part of the community. He didn't want to speculate about Lux.

"It's a harmless crush. Nothing more, nothing less."