by M. J. O'Shea
Table of Contents
Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Coconut Cove
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By M.J. O’Shea
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Copyright
The 17-Year-Old Itch
By M.J. O’Shea
Coconut Cove: Book Four
An old conflict boils up behind the scenes of Coconut Cove.
The popular show is about to start filming its second season, and Tony Adams is happy to return to sunny Key West and his role as innocent Joey… mostly. Being back on set also means facing Casey. They had indulged in a scorching behind-the-scenes tryst during season one, but it ended in heartache for Tony. It still hurts.
When they return to Key West, nothing has changed. Casey takes his role as hot dad a little too far and can’t seem to remember that Tony isn’t the teenager he plays on TV. Tony’s tired of being Casey’s dirty little secret—he’s more than man enough for a real adult romance—and draws a line in the sand. Either Casey acknowledges him and their relationship publicly, or he’s calling it off between them.
Chapter One
TV Tiffany here with the latest goss from the small screen, y’all! I’ve missed my Tiffers while I was away for my long awaited vacay in the tropics, but I’m back and better than ever, and do I have news for you!!
Everyone knows I have a soft spot for our favorite primetime teen drama Coconut Cove. Notice how I left the gay part out? I did because who are we kidding? We all watch it. Anyway, here’s the buzz for season two. I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t wait! I’m ready for summer to be over. Rumors off the set say that Mack and Kelly are on the outs. How!?!?! I can’t even handle life if those two aren’t together. Things are heating up on-screen for Robbie and Joey. Hopefully Joey can help Robbie tame his bad boy ways. Ryder is still single and very fabulous and fashionable. Maybe he’ll land Mack now that Kelly’s broken his heart. And poor Charlotte and Brooke. Will they never find romance in this hotbed of boylove? Maybe they’ll get smart and hook up with each other! They can coordinate their Dolce sunglasses and Louis Vuitton bags. Just a suggestion, ladies ;)
I’m off to finish perfecting my tan before a season of serious television blogging commences. Time to get ready!
Xoxo
Tiff
“HEY.”
“Hi.” Tony nearly choked on his spit. God, he’s gorgeous.
They’d just walked out of one of the first meetings with the cast members who’d been contracted so far, and Tony was a bit overwhelmed. Huge part in an ensemble cast was a long way from shilling crappy jeans on a twenty second prime-time spot or “student in blue shirt,” as he was credited in his last role. His general feeling of freaking the hell out didn’t need the addition of the most gorgeous guy in the room talking to him, of all people.
“What’s your name again? It was pretty full-on in there.”
Tony got a shy smile and a slight laugh, and he thought he might melt into the sea of bland corporate carpet beneath his feet. It was like the casting director was psychic or something and had probed into Tony’s brain to find the guy in LA, no the earth, that he’d be most attracted to and offered him a contract.
“T-Tony. Sorry.”
He grinned. His grin was beautiful, and it crinkled the sides of his eyes just a bit. “Don’t be sorry. I’m Casey. Nice to meet you.”
Casey. Tall, built, looked like he spent his days on a surfboard. Tony wanted to run his hands over the abs he knew were barely hiding under that thin, threadbare T-shirt.
Casey of the tall, gorgeous surfer body raked his fingers through his sun-bleached curls. He must’ve noticed Tony staring, because he grinned wryly. “They’re gonna make me cut it, I think. I have to look like a dad now.”
“Oh. Um.” Get it together. “Sorry?” Tony felt like he was choking on simple syllables. “Wait, dad?”
At the most, he figured hot teacher. This dude couldn’t be playing the father of a teenager.
“Yeah, I’m going to be one of Mack’s dads. I auditioned for Joey’s dad originally, I think, but they decided to have me audition for a more central role. Looks like I got lucky.”
Good thing. That would’ve been pretty awkward since I’d imagine I look like I want to take your clothes off.
Tony knew his parents were rarely on-screen, at least in the treatments he’d been given, so it was probably a very good thing for Casey anyway.
“Joey. That’s me. We were almost related, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
Casey chuckled. “Not this time.”
“I guess a major role is worth a haircut, then, isn’t it?” Did that sound like flirting? I hope it didn’t sound like flirting.
Casey raked his hands through his hair with another grin, almost protectively. “Definitely. Hey, I don’t want to pay for another hour of parking, so I’m going to get out of here, but I’ll see you soon, right?”
“Yeah,” Tony said. “See you in Key West.”
Universal Studios, Los Angeles
HE’D BEEN there all summer, and Tony Adams, brand-new star just off his first season of Coconut Cove, still hadn’t gotten used to LA. The days were dry and bright, with none of the pregnant, tropical humidity of Key West. Instead he could nearly see the waves of oven-hot afternoon sun rise from the pavement. The Hollywood Hills soared in the distance, and Tony thought if he sniffed hard enough he could possibly smell the Pacific, but somehow he was still sitting right in the middle of Greenwich Village. Sort of. It wasn’t quite right, obviously. There was something a little too perfect in the artful weathering of the fake stones, the trees were missing, everything was awfully… square. There wasn’t that feeling of life seeping out of the streets after generations of love and family and hate. It didn’t feel real. It wasn’t real. Nothing in LA was.
Tony had never felt comfortable in Hollywood, but it was okay, because he didn’t really expect to. There was something about it that hadn’t ever rubbed him the right way. Maybe the baseline norm to be hot and ripped-out and, well, hot, didn’t quite match with his… his anything. He’d never look like Christian Bale or Hugh Jackman. Hell, he’d never look like most of his costars either. Cutter had the ripped-out hot thing going on; Blair might as well be on a runway. Tony was just cute.
Cute.
Fuck cute.
Tony sighed and sipped his sugar-free vanilla latte, a little weird in the middle of his surroundings. He was on a fake New York City stoop on the Universal Studios lot, dressed in fake turn-of-the-century gear—uncomfortable itchy wool pants, button-up, vest, and leather shoes. Give him a hat and he might as well be in Newsies. He thought it was probably the same buildings that movie was shot in, anyway. Maybe thinking Christian Bale was a given. He’d always had a thing for older guys, hadn’t he? He definitely had a thing for older guys.
No. No older guys. Stop.
Tony winced and pushed the thought away. Along with it, he tried to get rid of flashes of warm skin, the smell of sunscreen and cologne, and kisses that lit his blood on fire. He wasn’t successful. He hadn’t been all summer.
One of his costars walked by in a corset and a long dress. He realized he probably shouldn’t feel too sorry for himself with his uncomfortable, hot costume. The women had it far worse. It was over eighty on the lot, and there were barely any shaded spots to escape from the sun beating down on them in their heavy dresses and layers of whatever the hell they had underneath them. He should be grate
ful he wasn’t one of them.
Still, Tony couldn’t wait to get the damn wool trousers off and get into some swim trunks and a pool. He was lucky the place he was renting had an awesome pool. Actually, luck had nothing to do with it. It had been a requirement. His costar Marissa saw him sitting on the stoop with his boring sugar-free drink and wandered over. She had earbuds in, an anachronism that still made him laugh, in the middle of their old-fashioned set complete with cobbled roads and a mix of carriages and ancient cars, but she pulled out the earbuds and gave Tony a brilliant smile.
“Hey, Tony. Are we going to see you tonight at Boa?”
He didn’t want to go to Boa. He was tired of the B-list celebrity scene, of paps waiting outside the ropes ready to blind him, of making sure he was with the right people for ultimate publicity impact. Tony had never been good at being a celeb before, and he’d never needed to be good at it. But he was a somebody now, thanks to Coconut Cove, which meant playing the game. It was a lot more work than fun.
“Yeah. I’ll be there.” He tried to sound excited. Honestly, there were quite a few days where he remembered what it was like not to be on the it list. Maybe after the buzz and scandal of a fully gay prime-time teen drama died down after another season or so, things would feel more normal.
It had been a head rush the first time the movie cast went out on the town. Even the buzz he and the rest of the cast had gotten in Florida all year had nothing on what it felt like to be a kindasorta somebody out in the middle of paparazzi central. But after he got used to it, he started to miss the Pirate’s Booty and their quirky little hotel with the weird cat and palm-shrouded pool. Of course the hotel was out. Everyone had found their own accommodations for the second season, which would start back up in a couple of weeks. His was the tiny guest room in Blair’s new house right by the beach, which was fine with him. Tony hadn’t ever liked being alone.
His phone buzzed in his itchy-ass wool trousers. He smiled when he saw it was Blair. Speak of the devil….
“I’d better take this.” Tony gestured to his phone. Marissa nodded with a grin and mouthed, “See you later,” before wandering off.
“Hey, bro, what’s up?” Tony had been texting and emailing back and forth with Blair since they’d broken set back in the spring for the summer hiatus. He still missed him. It was surprising how close they’d become. Or maybe not so surprising. They’d worked well together since the very first week of filming—most of the cast had. It wasn’t a shock at all that a lot of them had gotten to be friends.
“Not much. Just got back from a hike. Sander’s taking a nap, and I’m chilling on the back deck of our cabin.”
Blair sounded relaxed and happy. Pretty much the opposite of hot, uncomfortable, and tired. He knew it had been a good move for him to take the part. Period pieces added serious actor cred to his resume, and it was nice to not have to worry every day about water weight hiding his abs in board shorts.
“Where are you again exactly?” he asked Blair. Tony just knew it was somewhere in the mountains. He forgot where, other than Canada. Not that it mattered much for Blair and Sander. He imagined they spent most of the time in bed.
“Whistler. It’s beautiful up here.”
Somehow Tony thought Blair had probably seen more of the inside of his cabin than the actual mountains. He snorted at the idea.
“I’m sure it is.”
Blair chuckled. Tony was always surprised by how bashful Blair could be after all this time. “We’ve been hiking. You have to make everything seem like porn, don’t you?”
“It’s one of my skills. Not going to lie.” Tony laughed, relieved to have a conversation that felt comfortable after so many weeks of being completely out of his element.
“How is LA? Ready to get out of there yet?”
He was so ready. So very, very ready. Well, maybe not quite ready to get back to everything he left back on the island, though. He was feeling something in between desperately wanting to go back and dreading it with everything he had.
It can’t happen with us. You know that….
Tony winced. Again. Then he realized Blair was still waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see you, man. Have you talked to Levi?”
Blair sounded like he was chewing. “Yeah. Sorry. Was eating lunch. I did. He spent most of the break at home with Whitney and his mom, I think. She was sick.”
Levi had sent him a few messages, but not too many since all of the rumors of their nonexistent offscreen romance had blown up. He was sure the producers loved it. Hell, maybe they were providing the gossip rags with the rumors themselves to boost ratings, but it made Levi act really weird. If anyone listened to the gossip magazines, Tony was stringing Blair and Levi along at the same time. You know, having nothing to do with their actual boyfriends. He guessed Levi and Whitney were still too new to not make it awkward. Sander just laughed.
I’m such a Casanova. Breaking up relationships right and left with my nonexistent charm.
He was too busy trying to hold his head up in a major role on a surprisingly popular television show to manage to break two hearts at once. Or any. Tony thought of all his days in commercials and bit parts and wondered if he hadn’t known where it was at back then. Sure, the money was a hell of a lot nicer on this side. But he wasn’t in love with some of the stuff that came with it.
“Hey, Tony!” one of his other castmates called from the street. Brian. He was cute, about Tony’s age, and he was completely sure Brian was into him. Tony wished he could be into him right back.
We’ll never work…. It’s better to forget about what happened….
The moment came with the usual twinge of pain that hadn’t quite faded. Tony wanted to slice out whatever part of his brain was responsible for his memories. He’d like them gone, thanks. “Hey, Bri.”
Blair giggled from the other line. “Who’s Bri?”
“Castmate. You’d like most of these people a lot,” Tony told him. “Unlike certain people we get to work with all year.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not missing Howie. I know you had a secret crush on him. It’s not good for you to hold these things in, man. I’m here for you.”
“How’d you guess?” Tony giggled. “I keep a shrine by my bedside so I’m reminded of him every day we’re not together. I’m counting down the days until we can rekindle our flame.”
At that Blair laughed aloud. “I miss you, T. Two more weeks.”
“Yeah. This wraps in a couple of days, and I don’t really have anything keeping me here. You mind if I head down early?”
“Not at all. Your key is with my mom. She’s been using it to feed my fish while I’ve been on vacation.”
Tony breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted to get out of the Hollywood scene until Key West was staring him in the face. A few more days… he could do it.
THE HOTEL left a lot to be desired. Quirky would be a generous word, but Tony… well, he didn’t care. It was exciting to be out of his beige-walled, beige-carpeted rental in Silverlake. Tony didn’t plan to go back there, physically or in any other way. Coconut Cove had to be a success for him. If not, he was done. His grandfather had always made it clear that there was room in the house and at his carpentry company for Tony. He had pretty fond memories of Missoula from when he was a kid. It had to be better than living paycheck to paycheck on bit parts and ads.
Tony hefted his bag over his shoulder, jammed his key into the lock, and tried to push defeatist thoughts from his head.
He hadn’t ever had a key for a hotel room before. He’d also never stayed in a hotel with a cat and a lobby full of mismatched thrift store furniture either. Somehow, he kind of loved it. At least until he couldn’t get his key to work in the damn lock.
“What the hell?” He tried again, jiggled it harder, but nothing. “Damn it.”
It had been a long day of travel from the west coast, and that was on top of a long week of emptying out his apartm
ent and moving the boxes to his parents’ house. He wasn’t in the mood to go back down to what barely counted as a front desk and figure out why the hell they gave him the wrong key. Suddenly the outdoor corridor shaded by palms and the warm tropical air were less than charming. Tony tried again, jiggled as hard as he could without breaking the key. He was about to pull it out and stomp down to the desk when the door opened and—
Fuck.
There he was, Casey with the beautiful golden surfer body and newly shorn blond hair, staring, confused, at Tony and hanging on to a barely there towel that was wrapped around his waist.
“Are you okay?”
Not “What the hell are you doing in my room?” or “Can’t you see I was busy soaping up my beautiful, perfect body?” He actually looked sweet. Concerned.
“I—” Tony swallowed. “I thought I had room 225. Why are you in here?”
Casey smiled wryly. “Long day?”
“What?” Tony stared. It was hard not to.
“This is 227. I bet your key would work perfectly on that door.” He pointed two doors to the left, where Tony easily saw a 225 in brass.
“Shit. Sorry, I’m such an idiot.”
“Hey.” Casey reached out with his free hand and cupped Tony’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
He had such kind eyes, big and golden-brown, deep set with a sweep of blond-tipped eyelashes. Tony wanted to sink into those eyes. Or maybe bury his face in the expanse of dripping, lightly muscled chest.
“Um. Okay. I’m going to try the key in my own door, I think.” Can I have contact with this man one time without making a fool of myself?
Casey grinned. “Good plan. Hey, a few of us are going to grab a drink in a little bit. Do you want to come? You look like you might need it.”
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
“I’ll knock on your door in a half an hour?”
Tony sighed gratefully. “Okay. I’ll be ready.”