Total Fabrication

by Saxon James

  All I’d wanted was some lunch. That’s it. Just a fucking burger or something. Instead, my phone is lit up like a Christmas tree with texts and missed calls from family, followed by a slew of social media mentions.

  The three couples on the show were told to make up a joint social media so when the show airs next week, viewers will have a way to contact us. But if the first episode doesn’t hit until next week what the hell is all this about?

  I open a message from my brother but all it says is to call him. The sickly feeling starts to twist in my stomach, increasing the apprehension my cell phone set off.

  I tap on his number and he answers right away.

  “You’re an idiot,” Ryan’s deep voice sings. “I said you guys would get busted.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ryan is quiet for a long time. Then he starts to laugh. “Oh no. Tell me you’ve seen it.”

  “Seen what?”

  “That video of Jace.”

  I let out a huge exhale and pinch my nose. “What the hell has he done?”

  “Yeah, I’m not being there when you start to rage. Go check your notifications and when you do, just remember I told you so.”

  His teasing voice wishes me a good day, making clear it’s going to be anything but. Whatever people are going crazy over, I’m not so sure I wanna know. That said, if Jace has done something that could ruin everything here, I guess I need to get the jump on it.

  Resigned, I open our joint account.

  The same video seems to have been shared multiple times, but other than some flashes of color I can’t quite make it out. Squinting a little closer, I lean in, and as I do, the guy on screen pulls someone back against him.

  Jace.

  I wrench my phone away like it might bite, unable to drag my eyes away from the video as they start to kiss.

  Well, Jace certainly didn’t take his time.

  My breathing starts to get deeper and quicker, until the urge to punch something rears up hard and fast. My fists are shaking, and I keep telling myself I’m angry because this could fuck up everything we have going on. There’s no way my reaction has anything to do with seeing my ex-boyfriend kissing another guy, or imagining where that kiss probably led.

  One of the Total Fabrication cars pulls into the car space in front of the construction site, and I watch as Lea climbs out of the driver’s side. I’m not prepared when Jace follows her a minute later.

  He looks lost, like he might puke, and I hate that his expression still pulls at me, making me want to fix it all.

  Instead, my jaw clenches and I turn and make for the house. I know Jace follows me so as soon as I get inside, I step into the living room that looked perfect a few weeks ago, and has now been exploded with our clothes.

  Once Jace joins me, I close the door behind us.

  My heart is threatening to run away from me, but I force my tone to stay level. Professional. This is fucking torture.

  “Guess we’ve got to make plans. “

  He gives me a bemused smile. “Saw the video, did you?”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “Never said it was.”

  “So wipe that damn smirk off your face.”

  Jace hurries to school his expression. “Look, if something happens, it’s on me.”

  “It’s on both of us, asshole.” I reach forward to give him a clip on the head. I want to ask him why. Why so soon? Instead, my question is just as bitter. “You could at least have waited until the show wrapped to start fucking random guys.”

  His anger flares up, and I’m not gonna deny how hot it is. “Fucking? Is that what that video looked like to you?”

  I snort. “Not hard to tell where that kiss was leading.”

  “Fuck you, Blake.”

  “We already did that, but clearly it wasn’t enough.” My even voice doesn’t sound so in control anymore.

  Jace must pick up on it because his eyes start to narrow. “Doesn’t matter what was enough for me. You made the choice.”

  “And you’re being loud.” I shoot a look at the door, trying to ignore the way my throat is getting all tight. “What the fuck do we tell them?

  “It’s an old video?”

  “It was a live video. The guy shared the original upload. Plus we got together when you were twenty, and this is clearly inside a club.” I’m quickly losing the fight against my own frustration, but can I be blamed? Who the hell could remain rational in this situation? It’s not like I can pack up and leave, we’re both under contract. But this video seriously breeches that contract in a big fucking way. What the hell is going to happen?

  “We’ll tell them we took a break.”

  I snort, and don’t even bother answering that one.

  He sighs. “Blake …”

  “Don’t.” I drop my head forward and pinch my nose, right between my eyebrows. “You know what? I never once doubted we could do this. Sure, it would hurt a bit, and we both knew the whole thing would be hard, but with you …” I finally look up and meet his eye. “I knew we could pull it off. But now, I’m really not sure.”

  “What are you saying?” His words are tinged with worry.

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through this with you.”

  Jace’s eyes shoot wide. “Well, if you want to quit …”

  He can’t finish that sentence and neither can I. Now, more than ever, I feel like the biggest dumbass for breaking up with him. But it’s not like it could have happened any differently.

  There’s a knock from just outside, and I’m nowhere near calm enough to answer it.

  Jace takes the lead, opening the door just enough to peek out at whoever it is. He nods and murmurs something before closing the door again. “We have a meeting.”

  “Figures. Are they kicking us out?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Surely they can’t by this point? It’s not like they can pull down what we’ve done and have a new couple come in and take over.”

  Except that’s exactly what they could do. I drop back onto the tan leather couch and contemplate just falling asleep and not waking up until all this is over. The lack of sleep is catching up to me.

  Jace walks over and sits beside me, then before I know what’s happening, his arms are around my waist, pulling me closer. “I’m sorry.”

  He smells like sawdust and paint, nothing like the smells I used to associate with him, but somehow it just feels right. I finally hug him back, letting him bury his face into my shoulder. He might talk the big talk, but he’s as freaked out about this as I am. There’s no telling what the outcome will be, and the sooner this ends, the sooner we go our separate ways. Once we’re done, I might never see him again.

  I pull him in tighter for a second, but then he pulls away completely.

  “I feel a bit sick,” Jace says.

  I want to point out it’s all his fault, but really, he had no idea this was going to happen. Blaming him is the easy option, and it makes some of my jealousy settle down when I can get angry instead, but it’s not fair.

  “That makes two of us.” I manage a tight smile. It’s not enough to reassure him, but it’s enough that I feel like I’m making an effort. “Might as well get this over with.”

  With few places on site to hold a meeting, we make our way to the foreman’s office. It’s been set up out the front of house three and as we get there, I’m very aware of Tiffany and her sister Chloe watching us from inside. I’m tempted to throw them the finger, but on the off chance we don’t get kicked out, I need to play nice.

  Trevor, the foreman, opens the door and gestures for us to go in. I’m not expecting the two people waiting there. Instead of stuffy guys in suits, Rosie, head of production, and Lawrence, an executive producer, are waiting.

  Both of them had been part of the main casting and seemed nice enough overall. They don’t throw anything at me, so that seems positive. Blake takes a seat at the small table and pulls out the chair beside him.


  “I’ll let you guys have a minute,” Trevor says, excusing himself from the impending drama. I wish he’d taken me with him.

  Rosie watches as I lower myself down next to Blake, and I know the only way we have a hope of staying, is to sell the shit out of our relationship now. I scoot a little closer and wrap my arm around his, then reach down and grasp his hand. His fingers slot between mine like they were made to be there.

  Sure that they’re about to call me out for cheating or something, I wait for Rosie or Lawrence to start.

  But to my surprise, it’s Blake who speaks first.

  “We know why we’re here.”

  Rosie looks amused. “And why is that?”

  “The video of me, obviously.” I cut in. There’s no way I’m letting Blake do this alone. But even as I think that, his hand tightens over mine, warning me to not to give too much away. The subtle reminder of how close we used to be pulls at me, knowing I can still read his cues.

  Rosie hums. “It did catch us by surprise.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m sure you are. But the problem we have is with this popping up, it makes the show look fake. People will question the legitimacy of your relationship, which will call Total Fab into question. We don’t want to be like every other reality show out there, we want to provide as close to authentic content as possible.”

  While still scripting half of the shit we say.

  “You don’t think that’s a bit dramatic?” Blake asks. “This is the kind of thing that will pass quickly.”

  Lawrence sits forward and fixes Blake with a stare. “You’re our only gay couple on board, and the last thing we want to do is been seen perpetuating a stereotype.”

  “Stereotype?”

  “That gay men can’t be monogamous.”

  I internally groan. They’re going that route? “I’m not some kind of gay figurehead.”

  “No, but our representation needs to stay within the guidelines of a family rating.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, and Blake squeezes my hand again. “It was a kiss.”

  “With someone who wasn’t your boyfriend.”

  Oh yeah. That part.

  “He didn’t have a boyfriend then,” Blake says, and I’m stunned silent. Is he really going to tell them the truth?

  Rosie leans forward. “What do you mean?”

  “We had a little time apart, it’s personal, but we had some things to consider first. That’s all it was.”

  Rosie’s mouth presses thin as Lawrence shakes his head. “And you’re okay with this video?”

  “I don’t like it,” Blake says. “But Jace already told me everything. This isn’t a surprise to me.”

  They exchange glances, clearly not expecting that. I mean, I wasn’t either. Blake’s handling it, just like he’s always handled everything, and I wish I could thank him properly. But I can’t see a blow job being as appreciated as it once was.

  “So you guys are fine then?” Rosie asks, glancing between us. “Because you’re contractually obligated—”

  “We’re good.” Blake releases my hand as he shifts forward in his seat, then rests it on my thigh. The touch is more than we ever would have done even when we were dating for real. Blake was standoffish about PDA. “We know our contracts and we know each other. We’ve renovated before, the only difference is the timeline. Maybe you need to be talking with the other couples.”

  “The other couples don’t have a video circulating about them,” Lawrence reminds him.

  “We weren’t under contract when the video was taken, and since being under contract we’ve followed it perfectly. Is something beyond our control going to be an issue?”

  Rosie and Lawrence share another one of those looks, before Rosie folds her hands on the table. “We’re in a bad position right now. Do we let the video air and address the conversations people are already having? Or do we cover it?”

  Lawrence shakes his head and jumps in before either of us can. “Like you said, Rosie, people have already begun to talk. We have to air it. Not only does addressing it mitigate risk, it allows us to control the narrative and makes for good fucking viewing.”

  Rosie looks like she’s appealing to a higher deity, but sorry, honey, you’re in the US, I swear the gods or whoever abandoned us a long time ago.

  “Okay, we can fix this. What we need is for the two of you to be seen around more, doing relationship type things—you are still together right?”

  “Right.” Blake’s answer is automatic and I can only nod.

  “Good. Okay, we’ll organize some dinners, local media outlets can easily be given the nudge. If you two need to have words, it’ll be behind closed doors. From this moment forward, you are not going to give anyone a single reason to doubt your sincerity.”

  “No problem with me,” Blake says, squeezing my thigh when I don’t automatically chime in.

  “Yeah, me too.” But can he blame me for being distracted? His big calloused hand is approximately a palm-width away from my cock and all I can think about is if he slid it a little higher … I hurry to clear my throat. “Is that all?”

  Lawrence shakes his head. “I’m still not sure this is the right course of action.” He rubs his eyes. “In this political climate we have to be very careful about—”

  “Yes, Lawrence.” Rosie sighs. “I think that’s enough. You guys can go, but I’m serious. Keep your heads down from here on out.”

  Blake thanks them and we leave. But as soon as we get out of the site office, instead of walking away from me, he loops his arm around my shoulders and tugs me closer.

  “Hi, babe.”

  I cringe at the nickname. “Hi, Honey-Bee.”

  He chuckles. “Good one. I almost threw up in my mouth.”

  His lips are far too close to my ear. His breath too warm. I love that feeling, but I’m determined to ignore it. We’re stuck here together for almost two more months, and after that video, I won’t be taking any chances on finding someone else to hook up with.

  Not that I’d be able to.

  It’s a fact I wish I could blame on this show, but even before we got here, I hadn’t been able to either.

  Sure, there was that one kiss. That one kiss that I used to try and distract myself from Blake. It hadn’t worked.

  And I haven’t tried again.

  Blake’s the only person I want.

  No matter how many days pass between seeing that video and now, it doesn’t get easier. Every time I close my eyes and picture it, I feel sick. All I ever wanted was to make Jace happy, and I guess I’ve finally done that.

  Knowing that doesn’t make the week any easier. I’m onsite trying to get this room built, and Jace is off buying whatever we need to style the thing. Normally we stick to being all coupley whenever the cameras are around—kind of—but given how little we’re together, at the end of the week I know we need to put in the extra effort.

  I try tapping into the way I acted with him when we were actually dating.

  When he drops off lunch, I give him a kiss on the cheek.

  When he looks like he’s ready to drop from the stress of it all, I pull him into my arms and hold him until he relaxes.

  And the other day, when he walked by me in those tight workman shorts, I slapped him on the ass and hauled him up against me.

  I’m conscious of not smothering him again, but the more I touch him, the more I can’t help myself. And Jace is just as bad. He amps up his flirting so much I could be fooled into thinking it’s just like old times.

  Somehow, with all the shit going on, we still manage to pull off a winning room. Barely. Jace’s design is flawless, but the tight timeline meant some of the tiling needs work, and some of the gap filler has gone all chunky and needs a sand back. I have to pick up my game.

  So when the scores are revealed, I’m so relieved, I almost drop Jace when he jumps into my arms. I stagger for a second, and my laugh covers the awkwardness I’m sure only we can
feel. The show expects the winners to really go overboard, so before I can overthink it, I seal my lips on his for the shortest and most underwhelming kiss we’ve ever had.

  As I let his feet drop to the ground, I can’t look him in the eye. Lea and Russ both come over to congratulate us, but Chloe and Tiffany just stand there clapping, forced smiles on their faces. I can’t really blame them, I’d be disappointed if I lost by half a point too.

  We take off outta there pretty quick, keen to get away from the cameras and back to an actual bed. Jace drives and because there’s a camera on us, I reach over and rest my hand on his thigh. The muscle tenses up under my palm, but I don’t draw attention to it. His body warmth is seeping through his shorts and for one insane moment I picture getting into bed and pulling him close and feeling that body heat pressed against me.

  I let go of his leg.

  “Want to get takeout?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “What do you feel like?”

  I purse my lips at the simple question, knowing my indecision was a sticking point when we were dating. “Umm … want to order pizza?”

  He wrinkles his nose, and this, this is why I hate making fucking decisions.

  “Okay …” I breathe, trying to keep my voice even. “What are you thinking?”

  “No, pizza’s fine.”

  I can’t tell if he’s picked up on his slip, or he’s just trying to avoid an argument. But an argument, over pizza? Far out, it’s no wonder things went to hell. I need to remember that every time he draws me in with his sexy smiles and tight muscles and the adorable concentration lines that take over his forehead.

  “You did amazing on the room, babe.”

  Jace’s pink lips twitch into a smile. “Yeah it turned out pretty good.”

  “Better than good. They were drooling over how you set up the dressing room.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I’m always in awe of you when things come together.”

  Instead of smiling, Jace frowns. “Umm … thanks,” he whispers.

  There’s a tense beat of silence that falls over us.

  “But it was all you. All I did was buy some pretty shit to put out.”

  I shake my head because we both know it was way more than that. I don’t know how to say it though. Don’t know how to tell him I could never think the way he does, not in a million years. Seeing his visions come together just reminds me that my decision to break up was for a reason.