“I don’t really think so. It wasn’t the worst place to grow up, but miss it? Nah.”
“I do. I miss the way it made me feel.” Ashtyn looked unexpectedly sad. But as though it were an illusion, he suddenly smiled. “So, tell me, darling, how goes your carousing with the charming Brandon?”
“Good.”
“Good?” Lance shook his head. “You spent the night with him again, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’d say he’s better than good then,” Lance said, playing with the umbrella in his margarita. “You aren’t getting serious about him, are you, Tim?”
No, no, he couldn’t be. It wouldn’t work. He lived in Los Angeles, and Brandon lived here. Long-distance relationships were disasters. And who said he wanted a relationshipanyway?
“No. It’s just great sex, that’s all. I’m leaving Wednesday, and that’s it.”
Ashtyn smirked. “Okay. And speaking of great sex. Did I see you in the hallway after the ball with that hot little bellhop, Lance?”
Tim stared at Lance, who had turned crimson. “A bellhop? What’s this?”