On Location

by Sarah Echavarre Smith

  “Thank goodness.” Dad pulls her close and plants a kiss on her cheek.

  “Sorry about them,” I whisper to Drew as Mom and Dad playfully bicker about who’s the lucky one in their marriage.

  Drew shakes his head, still grinning. “It’s all good.”

  “Okay, Mom. Dad. Great to chat with you, but we’ve got a ton of work to get through still.”

  “Of course, anak. You stay safe, okay? And don’t forget to take a break soon. You work so hard, you’ll burn yourself out if you’re not careful. So nice to meet you, Drew!”

  Drew says likewise, and we all say good-bye.

  “You look just like your mom,” Drew says as I put away my phone.

  “Everyone says that whenever they see us. It’s my favorite compliment.”

  I reach my hands up and stretch, groaning softly as I will my stiff body to loosen. My phone buzzes with a text.

  Mom: Wow, Drew is so handsome!! Is he single?

  I roll my eyes and shove my phone across the table. Out of the corner of my eye I see Drew pop out of his chair and walk over to me. Then he leans down and wraps his arms around me from behind, nuzzling against the side of my neck. A million goose bumps flash across my skin.

  “Your mom’s right. We deserve a break. We worked pretty hard today,” he growls softly before pressing a teasing kiss to my bare shoulder.

  “Okay.” The word falls out like a gasp as he kisses along that sensitive spot of my skin where my neck meets my shoulder.

  He’s kicked things off by kissing that spot the last few times we’ve fooled around. I’m impressed that he’s committed it to memory already.

  He runs his hands along the sides of my body slowly, firmly. When I turn my head to the side, he captures my mouth in his before I can utter a breath or a word. I run my hand roughly through his hair as our tongues tangle wildly. We stay that way—our mouths glued together, handsy as hell—until Drew pulls my chair back and pulls away from me long enough to scoop me up. I let out a high-pitched squeal, giggling as he marches me quickly to my room down the hall.

  He kicks the door shut; then he sets me on the bed, his eyes glimmering with anticipation. “I’m gonna need you naked, Dunn. Now.”

  “That goes double for you, Irons.”

  We break into identical grins as we quickly undress.

  “I’ll never get tired of looking at you,” I say, my eyes glued to his Adonis belt.

  Then Drew leans down and tilts my head up to look at him with his finger under my chin. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.” He ends it with a kiss that sends my heart racing and my breath fleeting.

  “How do you want me?” I ask, chest heaving.

  “On the bed. On your hands and knees. Facing the wall. Please.”

  I’m grinning like a madwoman as I maneuver myself on the bed according to his request. A beat later when I’m in position, I feel it. The softness of his lips against the back of my left thigh. He skims slowly, softly up my leg, his hot, wet breath hitting right between my legs, in that spot I want him the most. But instead of giving it to me, his mouth lands at the top of my right thigh, just below my ass cheek. There’s a soft scrape that leaves me gasping, then another soft kiss against my skin. He moves down my thigh, then back up; then he’s back between my legs, his breath wetting my skin.

  “Please, Drew,” I whine, my arms shaky as I struggle to hold myself up while those tingles of pleasure make their way inside me.

  He grunts behind me and then I feel it—that exquisite softness of his tongue as he makes contact.

  My jaw drops and my eyes press shut. It is so, so good.

  I gasp. “Fuck, Drew. That’s—”

  The slam of the front door of the condo jolts me. My eyelids fly open. Drew pulls away and I turn my head around so I can look at him. I start to ask him what that sound was, but then there’s a shout.

  “Hold on, man! It’s gonna be okay!” Joe’s voice booms behind the door.

  There’s the sound of heavy footsteps, then banging at my bedroom door. “Alia! Alia, are you in there?”

  I shoot up, kneeling on the bed. Then I glance at Drew. Then I glance at the door.

  Shit.

  Drew’s eyes go wide as he stares at me while kneeling buck naked on the floor. I jump up and run to my bedroom door.

  “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “We need the first-aid kit,” Joe says, his tone breathless and panicky from behind the door. “You have it, right? We can’t find it anywhere, and I think Wyatt is having an allergic reaction.”

  Joe babbles something about Wyatt downing a drink that must have had vodka in it and how he started having trouble breathing as they pulled into the condo parking lot. The hair on my arms stands on end. Wyatt is allergic to vodka.

  “His entire face is turning red,” Joe says, his voice pitchy with panic. “He’s got hives on his chest and he’s struggling to breathe . . . or maybe his throat is closing. I—I don’t know . . .”

  The sound of muffled voices follows.

  “There’s an EpiPen in the first aid kit, right?” Joe asks me through the door. “I thought you said there was.”

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself. “There is, but . . . You’re sure the kit wasn’t in the van?” I could have sworn I left it in Wyatt’s car. That’s where I’ve always kept it. Unless I messed up something . . .

  “We looked everywhere,” Joe says, interrupting my frenzied train of thought. “When you didn’t answer your phone, I tried calling Drew to ask him if he knew, but he didn’t answer.”

  My eyes cut to Drew, who’s tugging both of his hands through his hair, his face twisted in bewilderment. He starts shaking his head and mutters the word “shit,” but I put my finger over my mouth.

  “Quiet!” I silently mouth to Drew before turning back to the door. “Yeah, um, Drew went out. For . . . supplies.”

  There’s the sound of footsteps fading away from the door, then Joe’s voice. I think he’s in the living room now judging by how far away it sounds.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Drew’s brow flies up.

  “Supplies? What does that even mean?” he whispers.

  I hold my hand up at him. Behind the door there’s a thudding sound.

  “Get him on the couch,” Haley says. “Lay him down.”

  I throw my shirt and yoga pants back on, then turn my bedroom upside down searching for the first-aid kit.

  “I’m looking for the kit!” I yell, hoping they can hear me in the living room. “You need to go out the window,” I whisper to Drew as I crawl on the floor and search under my bed.

  “What?” he whisper-shouts. “Alia, you can’t be serious.”

  I whip my head up to look at him. “I am serious. Look, there’s a balcony outside my window that’s, like, six feet above ground. You can jump that, right?”

  He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “They can’t see you in my bedroom, not like this. Just jump out, get dressed, and then walk in the house. It’ll be fine.”

  He frowns, his chest heaving with a breath. Then he nods. “Fine.”

  He yanks on his boxer briefs, grabs his jeans and T-shirt, and opens up the sliding door, shutting it behind him quietly.

  My head spins as the seconds pass, and I still come up empty-handed. Then I flip open one of my suitcases and see the first-aid kit tucked underneath a bunch of my clothes. I must have been in such a hurry when packing in Moab that I absentmindedly shoved it in my luggage.

  “I found it!” I yell before flinging open my bedroom door and sprinting out to the living room. Wyatt lies on the couch, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. Haley is crouched on the floor holding his hand while Rylan stands behind him, phone in hand, eyes wide with horror.

  “Should I call 911?” Rylan asks, her voice shaky.<
br />
  “No, I’ve got this!” I yell. “The EpiPen! I have it!” I fall to the floor, and Haley scoots to the side. “It’ll take too long to wait for an ambulance to get here. Joe, help me get his jeans off. I need to give him the shot in his thigh.”

  Joe nods frantically while pulling off Wyatt’s pants and yanking up his boxers.

  I zero in on the bare patch of Wyatt’s tan skin. With my heart thudding in my ears, I look at the pen in my fist and repeat the instructions I memorized when I bought the pen for this trip.

  “Blue to the sky, orange to the thigh. Blue to the sky, orange to the thigh.”

  I look at the pen in my shaky hand once more to make sure I’ve got it positioned correctly with the blue end up and the orange end pointed toward Wyatt’s leg. Closing my fist around it, I stab the orange needle end into Wyatt’s thigh and press it there for ten seconds. I hold my breath, staring at Wyatt, his eyes fading, his breaths shallow. But then after a few seconds, he starts to blink rapidly. His breathing evens out.

  “Damn,” he rasps, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. Then the corner of his mouth twitches up. His brown eyes go from cloudy to clear. “Thanks, Alia.”

  I let out a breath and clutch a hand over my chest. Joe mutters, “Holy shit”; Haley says, “Oh my God”; and Rylan falls to the floor on her knees, cupping her face in her hands.

  Haley wraps an arm around her. “I’ll go grab an ice pack from the freezer on the back deck,” Haley says. “To help him cool down.”

  Rylan jolts up, a dazed look clouding her normally vibrant face. “It’s okay. I’ll get it.”

  She slips out the sliding glass door. Joe leans down, his eyes watery, and pats Wyatt’s leg. “You gave us a scare, man.”

  Color flushes back to Wyatt’s cheeks. He still sports that dazed look in his eyes, but his breathing is even now. He reaches up to pat Joe’s arm. “No more homemade cocktails for me.”

  Joe shakes his head, cursing. “That fucking guy. We even told him you were allergic to vodka. He swore it was gin in the bottle. I knew we shouldn’t have bought anything from that roadside stand.”

  I whip my head to Wyatt. “You bought alcohol from a roadside stand?”

  Wyatt shrugs. “It was cheap. The guy was selling two-dollar flasks of cocktails. How could I say no to that?”

  “Rylan and I told you guys it was a bad idea,” Haley says as she readjusts to sit cross-legged on the hardwood floor. “But no. You had to buy cheap cocktails from a guy who was operating out of his van, clearly baked out of his mind.”

  I groan, then shake my head. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I let out a laugh of disbelief, then fall from my knees to my ass. My legs are as heavy as cement now that the adrenaline rush is over.

  “Thanks for not calling an ambulance.” Wyatt winces as he rubs his thigh where I injected him. “You saved me thousands of dollars in medical bills.”

  I toss the EpiPen at him, annoyed but relieved. “You and your mom need to say a few more rosaries, praying for intelligence for you. Because holy hell, buying alcohol from the side of the road has got to be the most—”

  Rylan’s scream interrupts me. All four of us whip our heads in the direction of the sliding glass door, where she walked out just a minute ago. Joe, Haley, and I jump up and run out the door; then all our jaws promptly drop at the sight.

  There’s Drew, standing in the backyard of our condo rental, wearing only his boxer briefs.

  17

  Drew looks at us, his eyes wide, his brow all the way up to his hairline. Then he folds his hands over the front of his body, covering his crotch.

  He reins in his expression to neutral. “Hey, everyone,” he says calmly.

  “Hey . . .” we all say in unison.

  “You scared me, Drew,” Rylan says, setting her hand over her heaving chest. “One minute I’m digging through the deep freezer, and the next I look up and see you standing in your underwear. What the . . .”

  Joe chuckles. “Yeah, man. What’s the story there? I thought Alia said you went out for . . . supplies.”

  From the corner of my eye, I catch Haley covering her mouth as she tries not to chuckle. I whip my head to her, hoping my glare shuts her up. I’m sure she can figure out what exactly Drew and I were up to while the rest of them were out.

  I take the ice packs from Rylan as she gazes with wide eyes at Drew, then shove them into Haley’s hands. “Can you take these to Wyatt? Now.”

  She scrunches her face to keep from laughing but nods and walks back into the condo.

  I shoot my wide-eyed stare back to Drew. “Are you . . . okay?”

  He purses his lips together, then nods once at me. “I got a little sidetracked while out for supplies.” He emphasizes the word “supplies” in a way that makes me want to chuck something at him. “Something was up with my truck, so I was taking a look under the hood and got a bunch of dirt and grease all over my clothes. Thought I’d disrobe in the yard so I wouldn’t get anything dirty in the condo. Wouldn’t want to risk losing our rental deposit.”

  I let out a breath, thankful that the excuse Drew thought of is plausible. Joe and Rylan seem to buy it judging by the way they nod along.

  “I didn’t realize you guys had come back,” Drew says. “Sorry about that.”

  Rylan excuses herself to check on Wyatt. A beat later, Joe lets out a laugh. “Damn. What a crazy day.”

  He walks back into the house, leaving Drew and me to stand and stare at each other.

  “Sorry to kick you out. Of my room, I mean,” I say quietly. “It all happened so fast . . . I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  His expression softens. “It’s okay. It sounds like you saved the day.”

  The corner of my mouth tugs up slightly. “What happened? Why didn’t you get dressed?”

  He rubs a hand against the back of his neck. “I thought it would be a good idea to toss my clothes on the ground first before I jumped down. But they landed in a puddle. And I didn’t think it would be the best idea to walk into the house in just my underwear. I was just going to hang back in the yard until I could sneak back in, but then Rylan walked out and saw me.”

  We both start laughing.

  “Well, everyone’s seen you now,” I say. “Just come inside already.”

  Smiling, he turns around and walks the few feet to where his soiled clothes sit in the grass; then he follows me as I walk inside.

  “I guess we’ll have to take a rain check on today,” he says softly behind me.

  “I guess so.”

  * * *

  • • •

  “Let’s get another sweeping vista of Inspiration Point,” I call out to Joe and Wyatt.

  They nod and set up for dual shots of one of the most scenic lookout points in Bryce Canyon. Most tourists flock to Sunset Point and Sunrise Point in the park, but the sweeping vista of Inspiration Point makes it my favorite hidden gem in the park. From where we’re standing near the very top of this lookout point, the view appears like an endless amphitheater of rugged rock pillars. In the canyon below are thousands upon thousands of hoodoos, fins, and spires. Under the golden sunlight of late afternoon, it’s like the rocky earth is on fire in every hue of red, orange, and pink.

  “Hell of a view.” I hear Drew’s voice from behind me.

  I twist around and beam when I realize he’s not talking about Inspiration Point. The way he’s looking at me, I know he’s remembering last night and what we got up to.

  Last night was two days after the fiasco with Wyatt’s allergic reaction.

  All the stars aligned and everyone fell asleep early at the condo after a long day of shooting. Then Drew sneaked into my room, and we enacted that very dirty text exchange, shattering my ‘no sex in the shared condo’ rule.

  Totally worth it.

  I can’t look at Drew too long when my smile i
s this goofy. One look at me with this expression and everyone will be able to tell what exactly is happening between us. A grin this cheesy only happens after a night of mind-blowing sex.

  So I glance down at my tablet and pretend to scan whatever text is on there. “Inspiration Point is stunning,” I say, biting my lips, which are fighting to curve upward. “Glad you think so too.”

  “I’m pretty damn inspired after last night, Dunn,” he growls softly before walking off to help Rylan with a lighting issue.

  Inside I’m squealing with glee. Just then there’s a shout behind me. I spin around, but then see that it’s Blaine doing pirouettes in the parking lot.

  I grit my teeth, then inhale. This morning when we started shooting, Drew went through his usual routine of demonstrating the scenes for Blaine. But the whole time, Joe and Wyatt were filming everything so that I can edit the footage later and make Drew the focus.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Haley says after walking up to me.

  “I have no clue.”

  He yelps, then shouts something unintelligible. The rest of the crew ignore him as they continue filming the panorama shot.

  “I guess it’s good that ninety-nine percent of the time he’s on set, he’s out of it,” Haley says. “It makes it easier to pull off the host swap.”

  I nod in agreement. But on the inside, I’m a ball of nerves. I know this is the right thing to do. But still . . . part of me wonders how the execs will react when I show them I’ve pulled this stunt.

  I shove aside the thought and focus on Haley, who’s swiping through my tablet to ask me a question about tomorrow’s shoot.

  When Wyatt and Joe announce they’ve completed the shot, I walk over and check out the footage. I’m beaming at how well they’ve captured the beauty of Bryce in this single smooth shot.

  “Amazing job, you guys,” I say. “That’s a wrap!”

  Everyone starts moving to pack things up while I run to unlock my car and open the doors for Haley and Rylan so they can load the gear. Heavy footsteps come up around my side.