One More Time(48)

“Is this the first room we’re going to have sex in, then?” he asks.

“The first?”

“We have to christen my house,” he says, plucking the straps of my tank from my shoulders so he can shimmy my shirt down to enjoy my bra. It’s red, and matches his theater, which makes him smile.

“Oh, yeah?” I unbutton his shirt as he slides a thumb under my bra cup to pinch my nipple.

“And then we’ll have to christen yours, of course.” He pulls my breast out to suck where he was just touching, and I arch toward him.

“Of course,” I say. I give up on his buttons and relax back, letting him feast on me.

A phone rings. We ignore it. It rings again, followed by his cell.

“I’m sorry.” He pulls back, but groans when we break contact.

“No, I get it.” And I do. We wouldn’t have a theater to christen if he wasn’t popular. He answers the phone and mouths “my agent” at me, walking out of the room to talk. I pull my bra back up and take in the theater again. It really is amazing.

And when I’m with him, I really do feel like home may not be a place after all, but a feeling.

“Good news and bad news,” Tanner says, walking back in. “Good news, we get a week in New York where no one cares what celebrities are up to. Bad news, we have to leave right now.”

“Oh, Tanner!” I can’t believe the shitty timing. “I can’t go to New York, I literally just booked a guest role on Karma Kills. Like on the way over here. And it shoots all week. What are you doing, do you have to go?”

“It’s Saturday Night Live,” he says.

Well, yeah, he has to go.

And fuck. I wish I could go with him.

“You were hilarious last time,” I tell him, not too proud to admit that I watched his episode multiple times. “Who’s the musical guest?”

“Nick Ryder.” I throw myself back in the loveseat and make a dramatic pose.

“He’s my favorite! This is so unfair. How will we christen the house now?”

“Do it without me.” I know the look on his face right now, and it’s dirty. “Finish the tour while I’m gone, and christen them solo. Send me pictures, playing with your pussy in every room.” I’m wet already, and the idea of teasing him for a week alleviates just a little of the anxiety I feel about how this relationship will work if we’re forced to be apart so soon.

“Okay,” I say.

“That’s my perfect girl,” he says, dropping a kiss on my head and getting back on the phone to make travel arrangements. I pull out my phone, too, and text Walter. Having Tanner gone just as soon as we’ve landed is convenient for my bestie, for sure. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen his face, and I owe him a long conversation. I text:

In-person catch up Saturday, SNL slumber party at my place?

He doesn’t even bother to respond with words, just a string of booze emojis. Looks like I’ll survive the week after all. But there’s still something I haven’t done, something I need to do now. So as Tanner walks out the door, I call after him.

“I love you.”





18





Tanner





New York City is grueling any day of the week, but it’s totally brutal when you’re prepping to host Saturday Night Live. The minute I touch down at JFK airport, I’m getting e-mails and calls from the writers about sketches and jokes and whether or not I can sing or dance or tap dance. The host of SNL gets in deep with the writers and cast. I’ll be sitting in on pitch sessions and have to be available to test out ideas. I might even get to write a skit if I want. It’s exhausting.

It’s also one of the most fucking amazing things I’ve ever gotten to do. And I’ve gotten to do it twice now. I’m a lucky man.

It would be more amazing if Jenna could be here with me, but this life is a lot of watching each other do cool shit from afar.

By day two I have been hunkered down inside the offices at Thirty Rock for what feels like a month, but it’s just Wednesday, late afternoon. Things are going well so far. We’ve got a solid cold open down and enough sketches to take into the first pitch session to the executive producers tomorrow. That means I may actually get out of the building before ten tonight. Not that I know what I’ll do with myself once I’m free. Every hour I spend away from Jenna makes me realize how much I want to be with her every second of the day. I’m making a total fool of myself with these writers because all my suggestions for skits involve Janner, and I spend all my free time on my phone with her. I’m probably coming off like a real lovesick dickhead.

Well, that’s because I am a real lovesick dickhead.





We break for dinner way earlier than usual, which means six pm instead of eight-thirty. I head into the cafeteria to make a plate and see if anyone is talking about an evening plan. The writers will probably hang to work but there will be cast or crew members that will probably invite me out for a drink. I should go just so I don’t end up back at my hotel watching crap TV.

Still, I’m not really in the mood for going out. I miss my girlfriend, and that makes me shitty company. Besides, if I just head to my room, maybe we can Skype, or watch the same movie while we chat on the phone.