by Gabbi Grey
“Thank you, Thomas.”
He took the mug from me, and our hands brushed. That zing of electricity was nothing, right? But his eyes widened infinitesimally, and the corners of his lips twitched. Was this residual energy from his hug with Cole, or was there another source of force in this room? Of tension? Of strength?
“I look forward to drinking the best coffee in Vancouver.”
Okay, that was either the most genuine appreciation for my coffee or the most unsubtle innuendo ever. Little butterflies fluttered around my stomach. Now? I was feeling sexual attraction now?
Talk about lousy timing.
“Glad to see we’re all here.”
Lisette’s voice broke the spell, but Peter held my gaze just a beat longer before turning his attention to the boss lady. Melinda, the producer, was here as well. I busied myself preparing Lisette’s tea as Janine made another cup of coffee for Melinda.
The group made introductions and then sat at the table.
Lisette smiled as I put her tea by her left hand and backed away. Picking up a copy of the script, I sat next to Janine and waited for the next set of instructions.
The next hour passed in a blur. The table read went well because the script was amazing. I’d read it a couple of times, making notes of what would be needed, but having it become a gay romance had brought a whole new layer to the story that hadn’t been there before. Envisioning Peter and Cole in bed together? Wow, talk about a kick to the libido.
Lisette clapped her hands. “Peter, Cole, and Lindy, head to costuming. They have an idea what I want. We do all the city outdoor shooting in the next two days, and then we head up to Whistler for the outdoor stuff.”
“Sex in nature.” Cole’s grin was wry. “Man, can’t wait for the bug bites on my—”
“Hamilton.”
Lisette’s glare only caused Cole’s grin to widen. “Anything for the shot.”
“The money shot.” Lindy’s contribution.
Tanya’s eyes bugged, and she stifled a giggle barely.
Peter slowly raised his hand. “I have a question.”
Lisette waved him on, clearly amused by his hesitation. Reticence didn’t get someone far in this industry. When he hesitated, she waved again. “Today, my dear.”
The color rose in his cheeks. “Who is the, uh…?” He cleared his throat.
Cole barked out a laugh. “I’ve been known to go both ways, so whatever floats your boat.”
I blanched. Cole was a switch? Wait, Cole was gay? Okay, mind blown.
If possible, Peter reddened further.
Lisette arched an eyebrow. “What do you think your character would want? What would he do?”
Yep, apparently crimson cheeks were a thing. For someone so urbane, Peter sure struggled with this. “I don’t know.” He blurted out the words. “There are times when I think he’s the dominant one in the relationship and other times when he takes his cues from his partner. I can’t…I don’t know.”
“Cole?” Lisette’s arched eyebrow now aimed at the other star.
“When we first meet, I’m definitely the top. I might be younger, but I’m the aggressor. I’m willing to fight for what I want and not willing to take any guff. As the relationship grows, though, that changes. I go from uncompromising to tender, and at that point I’m comfortable stepping back and being led. In their first scene I have to be the top—it won’t work any other way. In the final scene, though, I think I’m okay being the bottom. I need to feel cherished, and that does it for me.” Cole tapped the script. “But I noticed the screenwriter didn’t specify. Like I said, I’m flexible. Open to different interpretations, as it were.”
Peter cleared his throat. “If there weren’t sex scenes, I’d agree the relationship was more fluid, but the level of intimacy doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”
“Why don’t we play it by ear?” Lisette ran her hand over her mouth as if to smother a grin. Oh, she knew exactly how she wanted this played. She was just letting Peter and Cole think their contribution would make a difference. Her directions were precise, her work exacting and demanding. Every angle was calculated, every possibility considered and discarded.
Had I seen her swayed by compelling arguments that went contrary to her instructions? Yes. But rare was the person who questioned her. Not because she was inflexible, but because she was just that good.
Rising, she picked up her script and messenger bag. “Tomorrow morning.” Without another word, she left, Melinda hot on her heels.
Cole, Lindy, and Peter were slower to rise.
Uncertain, I waited. That was a lot of what I did—waiting. To see what happened next. To determine what was needed of me.
Lindy linked her arm through Cole’s. “Aggressor? Funny, when the character was a woman, I didn’t see her that way.”
Guiding Lindy through the door, he launched into an explanation.
Janine followed them out, leaving me to clean up the mess. Just a few coffee mugs and tables that needed to be put back. Nothing I hadn’t done before. I’d collected all the mugs before I realized I wasn’t alone. Peter stood off to one side, watching me.
“What do you think?”
I glanced around the room, making certain he was speaking to me. I hesitated because although I could guess at the topic, I didn’t want to make an assumption. “I…” Shit, words really weren’t coming.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to put you on the spot. But you were here, right? You got a sense for the story.”
Sure, I had. I always did. But my opinion had never been sought nor offered. “I think it’s a really good script.”
“It’s a fucking amazing script.” He pulled it toward him, holding it against his chest like a shield. “But Lindy has a point. When it was a man and a woman, it was more obvious, right?”
“Well, even in the previous version, the woman was…aggressive. I mean, she knew what she wanted, and no one could stand in her way.”
“But did that assertiveness carry through to the bedroom?”
“Was she going to lay back and spread her legs? No.” Well, Jesus, if that wasn’t crass, I didn’t know what was.
Peter barked out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. But intimacy is so much more complicated than that.” He waved it off. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“By talking sex? I’m a guy. Talking about sex doesn’t bother me.”
“That may be true, but gay sex is something different. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Did he know? Could he look at me and determine I was different?
“You worked on Vigilante Justice, right? I read your bio last night.”
Well, fuck me. I was a nobody, and he’d sought my bio. I wanted to puff my chest out, but now was not the moment. “Yeah, I worked on VJ. Work. We’re on hiatus while this film gets made. Once it’s in the can, we’re back on that project. I know a good thing when I see it.” And, of course, nothing in this life was guaranteed. I could get fired. They could cancel a series. An earthquake could take out the west coast.
“You know Cole.”
Ah, that’s where this was going. “He’s an intensely private man. Not big on going out, you know? But one of the most talented and hard-working people in the business.”
A raised eyebrow. “I’m not looking for dirt.”
“Good, because you won’t get it from me. There’s none to give, but even if there were, I don’t tell.”
“But you heard what I heard, right?”
A giggle bubbled up in my chest. “Yeah, we heard the same thing. Was he making a joke, or was he serious? I don’t know. Have I ever seen him with a man? No. Have I seen him with the same woman more than once? No. Like I said, he’s private. There were rumors he was dating Julie Reyes, his co-star, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure there’s nothing to that. Is there chemistry between them? And affection? Yeah, for sure. Would he tap that? No, he’s not like that.”
“I see.”
Did he? Cole oozed sexuality
, but that was onscreen. In person he was genuine and kind, easy to work with. Had I looked twice? Of course. I wasn’t blind. But had I ever seen anything from him directed at a male co-star? No, I hadn’t.
Peter held my gaze, conveying some kind of message. I was too confused by him to interpret it, so I simply looked my fill. God, the man was gorgeous. And, judging by my short time with him, seemed a considerate person.
Finally he bobbed his head. “You make great coffee, Thomas. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then he was gone, leaving me with dirty coffee mugs and more questions than before.
Chapter Four
I was a pop-out-of-bed-fully-awake kind of guy. The first day of shooting always sent an extra shot of adrenaline coursing through me. New people, new experiences.
Peter Erickson.
And Cole Hamilton, but he was a known entity. Did I see him differently after yesterday? Absolutely. From the hug to the admission he was not only gay but a switch blew my mind. Wait. He hadn’t explicitly said he was gay. But he’d implied it. Although he didn’t parade through women, I was sure there’d been a few. So…bi? For that matter, why did I care? Who he fucked on his own time was none of my damn business.
I stepped into the shower, anticipating the fresh spray. We were starting early this morning. The buses were running, which was great. My favorite café wasn’t yet going to be open, and that sucked because I really wanted a latté. I might scrimp and save like crazy, but this was my one guilty pleasure. The store was within a block of where we were shooting this morning.
My quick shower finished, I toweled off, tossed on clothes, and headed to the kitchen. Scrambled eggs in the microwave took two and a half minutes, and I dug into the food while waiting for the toast. Again, craft services would set up a table, but I never felt comfortable eating their food. Silly, right? Glancing at my phone, I noted a text from Sarah.
I miss you.
Well, shit. I opened the calendar app and made a reminder note to pick up her gift and mail it express this week. Life was always insane when we shot, but a few stolen moments would be possible. It had to be, because she was the most important person in my life. As much as I loved my parents, Sarah was the baby in the family. Luke and I had adored her, doted on her, even spoiled her. Fortunately, she hadn’t turned out to be a brat, but it could’ve gone either way, with two older brothers fighting her battles for her.
Another glance and I put my plate in the dishwasher. Bottle full of ice water and sandwich in my backpack, I was ready to go. I was a planner. After locking the door, I hit the door at the top of the stairs and jogged down them. I took a few minutes each night to make the next day’s lunch. To pack everything I’d need in my bag. To feed the cat who had not, I noted, made an appearance this morning. We had an arrangement of sorts. My side of the agreement was that I fed him regularly and cleaned his litter box. For his part, he no longer tore up everything I owned. He’d been feral, and only a heartfelt plea from a friend had me caving in to the entreaty that I give him a home. I had been on hiatus, so I had been there twenty-four seven for the first few weeks. A struggle, to be sure, but he’d learned to trust me, and we’d made real progress. My first day back at work? I came home, and he’d torn my pristine apartment to shreds. For just a moment I considered sending him back.
The next day I locked him in the bathroom, having removed the shower curtain. That subdued him, and within a week I could leave him free in the apartment again. Now I was careful to feed him regularly and only buy pillows and blankets from the thrift store. Good for the environment, my wallet, and my relationship with the cat. Of course, I washed them in hot water first in case there were bedbugs.
Ick. Just…ick.
The bus was right on time, and I scanned my card, thanked the driver, and made my way to the back. After pulling out my phone, I scrolled through Facebook. Most of my friends were from the industry. I’d cut ties with everyone back in PG except my sister. Occasionally someone from high school would try to friend me. I was always tempted but never gave in. The last thing I needed to see was people from back home. Luke and I were only eighteen months apart, so there’d been just one grade between us. We’d had a few different friends, but we’d mostly hung out with the same crowd and had the same friends. Those few friends who tried to reach out were resoundingly rebuffed. Well, I rejected their requests and moved on.
The local news site had a notice about our filming and posted that Peter was back in town. Great, like we needed that news spread. Maybe the fans would find it too much trouble to head downtown so early on a Saturday morning. I pulled the string to signal my stop and made my way to the door. As I exited the bus, I hollered my thanks to the driver. Yeah, sometimes I got dirty looks from other riders, but I didn’t care. Driving could be a shit job, and I was grateful someone got up before dawn to ensure I arrived at work on time.
Vibrating with excitement, I waved to Larry as I headed for the production area. Janine was already there. No surprise. I swore the woman lived on set. First there in the morning, last to leave at night. I’d tried to follow her example when I first started, but the payroll people explained to me I had to follow the schedule, and I wouldn’t get paid for the extra hours. Janine was an exception not to be emulated. She’d let drop one day what she made. That fueled my desire to hold her job. With my experience, I could start shopping around to other productions, but I liked the crew I worked with, and the studio was amazing in their treatment of us. Part of that was self-preservation. Take care of the employees, and they wouldn’t leave. Continuity was the key to survival. Did people get poached? Yeah, the good ones were headhunted. I hadn’t been so far and wasn’t insulted by that. A few more years, and hopefully Janine would be promoted.
Fingers crossed.
“Change of plans.”
Words I dreaded. They were spoken all the time, mind, but it never boded well. She must’ve caught something in my expression because she gave me that reassuring smile she carried so well. “Nothing bad, I promise. You’re assigned to Cole and Peter today. They’re filming several intense scenes, and I want you on hand. Plus, with the heat, make sure they stay hydrated.” She held up her hand to wave off my protest. “I know they’re grown men, but a little backup never hurts.”
Fair enough.
I stowed my own bag and grabbed my hat and water bottle. I’d invested in a good one that kept the water cold for hours. A blessing on days like this. I gave Janine a wave and headed to the craft services tent.
Lisette was there, talking intently to Melinda.
She didn’t notice me, which was unusual. She knew every member of her team, knew everyone who stepped onto her set. Might’ve been considered a control freak, but her work was meticulous and award-worthy, so everyone gave her whatever she needed.
Peter stood off to the side, a script in one hand, a coffee in the other. For whatever reason, he looked up, and our eyes met. His grin was quick and devastating. I’d hoped a night of being alone in my bed and jerking off would’ve dimmed my attraction to him. Nope, the reality was even better than the fantasy.
“Good morning, Thomas.”
God, even his voice oozed sex. Sleep-roughened. Just had a night of hot sex, gravelly. Had he? One crook of his finger and he’d have a choice of bed partners, but he didn’t have that rep. Sheesh, I hadn’t responded. “I’m yours today.”
His brow arched.
Shit.
“I mean I’m here for you. To help you. With whatever you need.” Christ, I sounded like an idiot. “I’m just going to get some water bottles.”
Peter indicated the table next to him where a high-end bottle sat.
I knew bottles, and this one was near the top of the price set.
“I filled it with ice and cold water this morning at the hotel.”
So as organized as myself. I liked that. “Great. I’ll just make sure it stays filled.”
“Uh…” A little V formed in his perfect brow. “I suppose so. I am capable, yo
u know.”
“Never questioned it. My job is to keep things easy for you so you can focus.” Our eyes held. What did he see? My earnestness or my attraction to him? My eagerness or my sincerity? Or all of the above?
“Good morning.”
Another gravelly voice that caused my cock to twitch. Cole placed a hand on my back between my shoulder blades. “Janine says you’ve been assigned as our minder today. We’ll make it easy for you.”
He’d asked early in our relationship if he could touch me. It’d been done very casually, and if I’d said no, there would’ve been no hard feelings. He was like that, wanting to touch but always respecting boundaries. I realized with a start that yesterday he hadn’t sought Peter’s permission. Yet, in that moment, the hug had worked. Something special had passed between the two of them. Something hard to put a finger on. Something precious. With a quick knead of my shoulder, Cole headed over to the coffee table. I, of course, would’ve be happy to fetch it for him, but he’d made it clear I could only do that when I actually made the coffee.
Taking a sip, he glanced over to the craft service people before cringing. “Not as good as yours, Thomas.”
Did I beam from the praise? I might have.
“You want to run lines?”
Amusement lit Peter’s expression. He’d caught every nuance of our encounter and obviously found it interesting. I wanted to assure him Cole was like that with everyone and nothing special existed between the two of us. But that instinct was silly because why would Peter care?
“Sounds great.” Cole headed for two chairs in the shade.
We were just a few days away from the summer solstice, and the sun had already crested the early morning sky.
Cole sat, but Peter hesitated, and it took me a moment to realize the reason. I plopped down on the cool asphalt. “I’m good here.” Not just because the ground had yet to heat up, but because it maintained the power imbalance. A little thing, to be sure, but important to me. If I sat in a chair, I was on their level.