But more than that, I’m angry at how the Needles shoot is now ruined—and angry at myself for the role I played in this. Instead of trying to reason with Drew, I should have just walked away and kept Blaine on my radar. And now because I didn’t, the single most meaningful shoot in the whole series—the tribute to my grandmother—is ruined.
I almost let out a bitter, angry laugh. Because if I can’t even nail this one overnight shoot, I have no business thinking that I can someday be in charge of an international series. Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t have the guts to pitch Hidden Gem Island Getaways. Because ruining that, an entire series based on a place that was so special to my apong Lita, would hurt a million times worse than this.
“I’ll host.” Drew’s sudden words jerk me out of my silent pity party.
“What?”
“I’ll host. I did it before at the Narrows. I’ll do it again now.”
There’s such certainty in his voice. It makes my head spin. Just a couple of days ago, he was adamantly against the idea of playing host ever again.
The rest of the crew look at Drew with confused yet intrigued expressions.
“Drew, even if you host this segment, it still wouldn’t work,” I say. “We need at least a couple of shots of Blaine standing in the landscape or saying a few lines. It can’t just be you.”
“We’ll fake it,” he says. “We’ll do another quick nighttime shoot just outside of the park one of these nights when he’s sobered up. We’ll get some shots of him against the darkened sky with all the stars. Then we can have him do a voice-over later for the intro. It’ll work. I promise.”
His words settle into my brain. That’s actually doable.
A relieved smile flashes across Wyatt’s face. “I really think this could work, Alia.”
Joe nods just as Haley says, “That’s a great idea.” Rylan voices her agreement, and Colton offers to walk Blaine to the tents so that he’s out of the way.
Joe starts to compliment Drew, but he stops him. “It’s not my idea. It’s Alia’s.”
My shoulders loosen at how he makes sure I get credit. Joe flashes me a thumbs-up as Wyatt tells me “well done.”
I check the time, then clap my hands once. “Okay, guys. Let’s do this.”
12
Joe and Wyatt take panoramic shots of Drew as he stands on the edge of a mushroom-cap-shaped rock formation.
We’re hours into the shoot, and we’ve got this panorama shot to finish, then the outro.
Standing next to me, Haley looks ahead at the scene, then smiles at me. “This episode is going to be incredible, Alia. Apong Lita would have loved it. And your mom is going to burst into happy tears when she watches it.”
I’m beaming. “Thanks, Haley.”
The panorama shots wrap up and we start to set up the outro. We don’t technically need it since we’re going to come back and do the makeup shoot with Blaine later, but the planner in me thinks it would be good to have the extra footage. We could use part of the audio in a voice-over for online content too.
Like before, Drew nails the lines on the first try. We probably don’t even need multiple takes, but because I’m such a control freak, I want them just in case. And every time he delivers with the same enthusiasm and that same killer smile.
“The Needles are beautiful in the daylight, no doubt,” he says to the camera. “But honestly, I think I prefer them at night. It’s a whole new kind of beauty. Do yourself a favor and take a trip to the Needles district of Canyonlands at night sometime. I promise it will blow you away. That’s it for this episode of Discovering Utah. See you all next time. And until then, keep exploring.”
I yell cut. Colton and Rylan clap and jump up and down before sharing a cute peck on the lips. I grin at how adorably in love they are.
“Now, that is disgustingly cute,” Haley says. I laugh.
We spend the next hour packing everything up, then hike the quarter mile back to the tents. Colton walks ahead and pops into the tent where I assume he set up Blaine. A second later, he darts out, his face twisted in panic.
Rylan runs up to him. “What is it?”
He shakes his head, then darts from tent to tent. I’m about to ask what’s going on, but he stumbles out of the two-person tent Haley and I set up to share this evening, a look of relief on his face.
He heaves a breath. “I guess Blaine decided he wants to stay in the big tent.”
He explains that he put him in one of the single-person tents earlier, but Blaine must have woken up and walked to the bigger one. I try to suppress a groan.
“He’s out cold,” Colton says, a worried look on his face. “Do you want me to move him to one of the smaller tents? It’s not right that he should have the big one to himself.”
I shake my head no even though I’m annoyed. “I’m done dealing with him for one night.”
Colton says he could get one of the guys to help move him, but I tell him there’s no need.
“The fact that he was aware enough to find the biggest tent even in his inebriated state tells me we should just leave him there,” I say. “He’ll be a nightmare if he wakes up and is pissed that he isn’t sleeping in the biggest tent here.”
Colton nods, looking regretful. After Haley sets down her equipment bag, I break the bad news that Blaine has taken over our tent.
She rubs her eyes. “If I weren’t so exhausted, I would strangle him.”
Just then Drew sets down the two bags of equipment he lugged back right next to Haley.
She mutters something about grabbing our bags from the big tent. I tell her thanks, then turn my focus back on Drew. Arms crossed, I walk up to him.
“Hey,” I say quietly, looking him in the eye. “Thanks for saving the shoot tonight.”
“I didn’t. You did.”
My cheeks grow hot with his eyes on me. I look to the large tent once more and try my hardest to stifle a groan. I have to find somewhere else to sleep now.
Rylan runs up to me, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m so sorry about your tent.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say. “You don’t have to apologize for something you didn’t do.”
She shakes her head. “I told Haley you two can have my tent. I’ll share with Colton.”
Her cheeks turn pink as she glances past me to where Colton is standing.
“You sure?”
She nods, and I thank her, even though I’m bracing myself for what that means. Haley and I have shared camping and lodging countless times before, and she’s a notorious space hog. I won’t get a wink of sleep sharing a one-person tent with her since she’ll be kicking me all night. I’d get a more restful few hours of sleep inside one of the cars.
I sigh, then walk over to Haley, who’s digging through her pack just a few feet away from where Drew and I stand. “Hey. You take Rylan’s tent. I’ll sleep in one of the cars tonight.”
She frowns. “You don’t want to share?”
I tilt my head. “Have you forgotten just how violent you are in your sleep?”
Her expression turns sheepish. “Here, you take the tent and I’ll take one of the cars. I’m smaller than you anyway.”
“You can sleep in my tent with me,” Drew interjects.
“Oh . . . um . . .” I stammer for another few seconds.
Haley glances at me, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Drew to the rescue again.” She turns to face him. “Look at you, saving the day.”
He rolls his eyes while fighting against a flustered smile, then turns to me. “I’m serious. I know it looks like a small one-person tent, but the design is roomy. There’s plenty of space for two.”
Haley walks off, giving me a thumbs-up before hopping into her tent. I glance around and see that Joe and Wyatt have tucked away in their one-person tents. Colton helps Rylan into their tent, then zips the c
losure shut.
“I know this is an awkward situation for us to be in. Again.” Drew rubs the scruff along his jawline. “But the prospect of sharing a tent with me can’t be that awful. Can it?”
He lets out a chuckle, which helps loosen the tension within me. I clear my throat. “It’s not that. I just . . . how would it look if the showrunner forced a crew member to bunk with her?”
Drew tilts his head. “Come on, Dunn. It’s not like that, not even close. You’re not forcing me to do this. You know you’re not forcing me to do that. I’m the one offering.”
I glance at the darkened trail ahead, the one that leads to the vehicles. The last thing I want to do is hike all the way back to the parking lot, get a crappy few hours of sleep, then hike all the way back to make it in time for the sunrise shoot. I’m sure to wake up with a million aches and pains, groggy as hell, and in the worst mood.
I glance up at Drew, concern painting his face. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’ll sleep outside and you can have my tent.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and wrinkle my nose, noting how cold my face is in the freezing overnight temperatures. “There’s no chance I’m making you sleep outside in this cold.” I swallow. “You sure you’re comfortable with sharing?”
“Positive. This is a strictly professional situation. Promise I’ll treat it that way.”
I swallow and nod once. “I will too.”
The idea of a roomy tent with cozy blankets and an air mattress pad sounds more and more enticing by the minute.
“Lead the way,” I say.
I follow Drew to his tent, silently telling myself that it’s just one night—one night of a very awkward sleeping arrangement . . . with a guy I picked up on the subway and shared a hot kiss with who turned out to be my coworker, whom I’ve been flirting and fighting with these past two weeks.
Get it together.
I take a breath and shove away all those thoughts from before. Drew unzips the tent flap and tells me to go ahead. When I step forward, the soft feel of his hand on the small of my back, guiding me in, sends my nerves haywire in the best way.
God, I like that way the hell too much.
I crawl into the tent, drop my bag on the ground, plop down next to it, and tell myself it’ll all be fine.
Drew comes in after me, zips the closure shut, and glances at the center of the tent.
His eyes go wide. “Shit.”
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, taking in the flustered look on his face.
He hesitates at first. “There’s only one sleeping bag.”
“So?”
He frowns. “So you’re . . . okay with sharing a sleeping bag?”
“Drew, we shared a sleeping bag in our underwear a few days ago. How is this any worse than that?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Besides, that looks huge. That’s for one person?”
Drew nods while chuckling. “It was a Christmas gift from my aunt. She ordered it from some big-and-tall catalog. She’s barely five feet and thinks anyone taller than her is a giant. You should see the clothes she bought for me when my growth spurt during puberty hit. I’m six foot three and I still can’t fit into them.”
I laugh, then open my bag, pull out some clothes, and then turn around with my back to him. I start stripping off my coat, gloves, and jeans so I can change into the oversize T-shirt I brought to sleep in.
Behind me I hear the soft sounds of zippers and fabric rustling. Drew must be changing too.
A minute later, I turn around and do a double take at Drew’s bare back. His bare, perfectly cut, perfectly tanned back.
I thought since I’ve seen it before it would soften the blow the second time; it doesn’t. I’m still just as speechless as the first time I saw his exquisitely chiseled, broad expanse of man-flesh. A second passes and my face is on fire. He leans over to reach something, which makes all that flawless skin and muscle flex. My eyes grow wider. How the hell am I going to relax enough when I’ll be sleeping next to that?
I divert my gaze to the hem of my shirt, pretending to fuss with a thread as he turns around. I glance up and see he’s wearing only a pair of navy-blue gym shorts . . . and they’re doing an abysmal job of properly covering his built thighs.
I swallow. This night. Goddamn, this night is going to be sweet torture to get through.
“Cute.” He smiles, pointing to the oversize, gray, tattered shirt I’m wearing with Mickey Mouse’s faded face on it.
“Oh. Thanks.” I pat my palms on the tops of my thighs as I kneel. “Shall we?”
He nods just as his smile fades. “So, um . . . Should I get in first? Or do you . . .”
“You first.” I say quickly, crossing my arms over my chest, hoping he can’t see my very erect, very hard nipples through the flimsy fabric of this ancient T-shirt.
He clears his throat, then crawls inside the plush, gray material. His eyes cut to me. “You’re up, Dunn.”
He lets out what sounds like a nervous chuckle, which makes a nervous chuckle spill out of me too. But then I take a breath, steadying myself before I crawl over to him.
My heartbeat thuds in my ears. All the blood in my body rushes to my face, pooling at my cheeks. Not even my tan can save me because judging by how hot I feel on the inside, I can guarantee my skin is fire-engine red—and Drew is close enough to see it.
Take a chill pill, Alia. This isn’t the first time you’ve ever shared a sleeping space with a man.
And then my inner voice—the voice that sometimes tells me to do risky things . . . like flirt with that hot guy on the subway—pipes up.
Are you kidding me? This is NOT the same. You’re sharing a sleeping bag, not a bed. And this is not a guy you’re dating. This is your coworker . . . your mega-hot coworker who is the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Clenching my jaw, I force a polite smile at Drew. Then I quickly avert my gaze as I climb in. This is definitely roomier than any other one-person sleeping bag I’ve ever slept in . . . but it’s going to be a snug fit with the both of us.
“We’re going to have to spoon,” he says softly. “That okay with you?”
“There’s really no other way to do it,” I mumble as I settle against his chest. Then I realize just how dismissive I sound. “I mean, of course it’s fine. Sorry.”
A low rumble sounds from above my head. “I knew what you meant,” he says softly, the smile in his voice clear.
I let out a slow hiss of breath in relief and still against his body. It’s a few seconds of silence where we only make the slightest movements. It’s like we’re trying to politely stay as still as possible so we don’t touch each other more than we have to . . . even though we both know that’s impossible.
Settling on my side, I tuck my hands under my cheek and close my eyes. I inhale and relax against him. Slowly, the tension in my muscles melts. With my neck against his naked chest, I have to bite back a moan. His body feels so, so good against mine.
He clears his throat. “Sorry, I, uh, I guess I should have put a shirt on.”
“It’s fine.” My voice hits that pitchy tone it always falls into when I’m flustered.
“I’m just so used to sleeping without one in this sleeping bag because it’s thermal and actually gets kind of hot if you’re wearing too many clothes . . .”
“Drew, it’s fine.” More than fine. It’s actually goddamn exquisite to have you cradle your naked chest against my body. Don’t you even worry about it.
I swallow back the words, willing my inner thoughts to shut the hell up.
He lets out a breath, the moist heat blanketing the back of my neck. “You’re comfortable?”
“Very,” I say without thinking.
I bite my tongue at just how creepy that sounded.
“I mean, I feel fine. Tha
nks for asking.” I let out a nervous cough. “How do you feel? Am I . . . hurting you or anything?”
“Not even close. But can I move my arm up? Like, um . . .”
He hovers his deliciously bare, deliciously veiny, deliciously thick arm along the length of my body, careful not to touch me.
“You can rest your hand on me, Drew,” I say after a few seconds. “I’m fine with it.”
You know you’re more than fine with his arm on you, you thirsty little minx.
I roll my eyes at my inner monologue gone rogue, thankful that Drew is behind me and can’t see my face.
“Um, where would you like it?” he asks, his tone tentative.
Reaching up slowly, I softly grip his hand between my fingers and set it on my hip. “How about here?”
“Perfect.”
The soft, gentle way he says it makes me smile.
He twists around and turns off the lantern. Everything goes dark.
I close my eyes, but then he speaks. “I know you’re probably exhausted and want to go to sleep, but . . . can I say something really quick?”
“Sure.”
“I want to say again how sorry I am for lashing out at you when you pitched that idea of me taking over as host.”
I let out a slow breath, my face growing hot again. “It’s okay. You were right to be mad. I didn’t mean to sound so dismissive of your stage fright. I still feel horrible about that.”
“Don’t. Please don’t.” He pauses. I can hear the soft sound of a swallow behind me.
“Alia, I had no right to get upset with you. I was jolted by the idea and it brought up all those awful feelings from my failed audition years ago. I didn’t even let you talk or explain yourself. I just flipped out.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even upset at your idea . . . it was more like I was scared of failing again, and just the thought of that was what upset me. But when you’re the one guiding me, like you did tonight and during the Narrows shoot, I feel so at ease. And . . . if you’re still willing, I’m up for it.”
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