Just like Sean.
“Come on,” Artem says. “You can crash with me.”
And since I have no plan, I accept.
“Thanks, man,” I say. “I’d give you a big ol’ smooch of gratitude if I didn’t think I’d get punched.”
“Good instincts. I’d hate to have to save your ass and kick it on the same fucking night.”
I chuckle as we turn into the streets and start walking. The lights of Hollywood don’t seem as brutal anymore. Not quite so harsh. Not quite so glaring.
“So what brings you to Los Angeles?” Artem inquires.
I glance at him. “Mate, that’s a long fucking story.”
“You got somewhere to be?”
My laughter dies on my lips. “No,” I say softly. “I’ve got nowhere.”
We arrive at his car and my eyebrows leap up on my forehead. “Jesus Christ,” I breathe. “Is that a fucking Lotus Elise?”
Artem smiles. “Fresh off the line.”
I look up at him. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe I am into men.”
He rolls his eyes. “Get in the fucking car. And stay on your side.”
Laughing, I get in, thinking one thing: this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.