by Gabbi Grey
Peter still didn’t sit. “I’ll grab a chair for you. The ground can’t possibly be comfortable.”
Before I could argue, Cole tugged on Peter’s sleeve, guiding him toward the chair. “Crazy Thomas sits on the ground every chance he gets. Something about being closer to Mother Earth. Either that or he likes his balls shrivelling in the cold.”
Peter’s expression of shock was priceless.
“It’s not sexual harassment if I’ve given him permission to say whatever he wants.” Now was my turn to deadpan. We had an agreement. Funny how I’d become accustomed to Cole. He didn’t joke like this with the vast majority of cast and crew. Come to that, he and Tanya had a jovial relationship. He also goofed off with his co-star Julie and their fight co-ordinator Donovan. Did he tease lightly with others? For sure. The hard-core sexual innuendo, though, was kept to a tight circle, and few were exposed to it. Again, someone might misunderstand. That Cole felt so comfortable in front of Peter spoke to a level of trust.
“You like cold balls?” Peter’s beautiful brow cocked.
“Better than blue.” I could give back as good as I got.
Both men burst out laughing.
Peter handed me his script and took a deep breath. By the time he uttered the first word, he’d transformed into a man besotted. The change took my breath away, but then everything about him did. He infused each line with emotion. This was unusual because the norm was to run lines without inflection. Just spew them out to ensure they’d been memorized. What he was doing spoke to some level of professionalism in him.
Neither man needed prompting from me as they knew their lines cold.
Cole took his cue from Peter and put some energy into what’d become a mini-performance.
And as Peter uttered the last lines, I blinked several times. Man, this scene was a tear-jerker. For the first time, at least. When they were on take fifteen, it probably wouldn’t feel the same way.
Or, with these two, it just might.
“Give me that on the first take, and we’ll be done for the day.”
Lisette’s voice broke the spell, and the two men settled back in their chairs. They’d drawn closer to each other with each line spoken, and now the distance jarred. Of course, we shot with only one camera so, theoretically, there would be at least two takes. Undoubtedly more, but she’d nailed it. If they delivered that level of performance, it’d be a short day.
One could hope.
Chapter Five
Ten fucking hours and I was fucking exhausted.
Having a production starting with one of the most emotionally draining scenes didn’t help. A three-minute scene with Cole and myself standing on a street corner and laying our feelings on the line. Sounded simple, but execution was anything but. Oh, the crew and extras did their professional best to make the day move smoothly, but the entire day was one clusterfuck of problems.
The corner was busy, so the number of extras in the shots was high. Everything had to be perfectly coordinated or continuity was shot. There were people for that. The traffic also had to be consistent. We had the street to ourselves, but each take took time to set up.
Each time I fell into the scene, Lisette usually let it continue, even when she knew the take would end up on the cutting room floor. Some directors would call cut right away and jar everyone out of the moment, but Lisette believed in playing it out in case something—even a moment—could be used.
On top of all that, the weather was as uncooperative as possible. Well, pouring rain would’ve been a disaster, but the unrelenting sun was bad. Plus, we wore suits. Had to, because of the scene, but how neither Cole nor I passed out was beyond me.
One of the makeup artists, Kelci, was there to fix us up after each take. Cheerful young woman who came from the Canadian prairies somewhere and who gleefully let me know this heat was nothing. Hell, I was from Texas, so I knew heat. But this was humid and sweat-inducing. I went through three shirts.
Through it all, Cole was the professional I’d known him to be. His joking was always PG and appropriate. He broke tension easily and never stepped out of line. He understood boundaries in a way few men did. Saw the line, skirted it occasionally, but otherwise kept well back from it.
Finally, there was Thomas. Reliable and hard-working Thomas. The man who had little to do all day and yet somehow kept his proverbial cool. I extracted from him that he had lived somewhere north of here, and although the summers there could be warm, they didn’t have the humidity either. His bias toward Vancouver was clear—he loved the place. A shadow had crossed his face when he spoke of his hometown, and I’d backed off immediately. I understood about not wanting to overshare. About wanting to keep some distance. About needing to play my cards close to my vest.
Cole slapped me on the back. Hard but not too much. Just the right amount, in fact. “I’m heading home. Sorry, sucker, you get the hotel.”
He had that right. Some people loved living in hotels, but I wasn’t one of them. My preference was to shoot close enough to home so I could go back there every night. And although plenty of filming took place in LA these days, the push was to move production farther afield.
Many cities and regions offered tax incentives so production would come their way. Given the exchange rate, a lot more got done up here in Canada these days. Professionalism went a long way, and the quality of workers impressed.
I managed to nod as Cole headed toward the parking lot. My hotel was three blocks, but it might as well have been a hundred. My legs ached, my feet hurt, and my head was about to explode.
“You want me to call you a cab?”
Thomas. The ever-efficient Thomas. “Nah, I need the exercise.” Not a lie. Several days had passed since my last high-intensity workout. Would the three blocks compare? Not a chance, but I planned to be up early in the morning to hit the gym. The hotel was kitted out with everything I could ask for, including a pool and sauna. In fact, a swim tonight might be the trick to working out some of the kinks.
Or a good massage. But I hadn’t booked anyone, so that was a no-go. Honestly, I hadn’t predicted how draining the day would be.
“Can I walk with you?”
I cut my glance to his face. His earnest face. God, he was easy to read. This was a gesture of consideration, nothing more. He probably believed his responsibility was to make sure I got back to the hotel in one piece. We hadn’t spotted a single fan today, so security wasn’t an issue. In my jeans, dark T-shirt, and cowboy boots, I wasn’t likely to garner many looks. The baseball hat pulled low helped. I considered sunglasses, but the brim of the cap kept out the worst of the sun that still hung high in the sky. After yanking out my phone, I noted the time. Although it felt like midnight, the clock read barely six.
“Do me one better—have dinner with me.”
Okay, where the fuck had that come from? Rule number one—never mess with your co-star. Rule number two—never mess with the crew. The power imbalance from this morning flashed to my mind. Oh, he’d talked a good game about being more comfortable on the ground, but I’d seen through the ruse. Thomas was uncomfortable with being treated as an equal. And that bothered me more than it probably should. I was on the verge of rescinding the offer when he shrugged.
“Sure, yeah, that’d be nice. Nothing planned anyway.”
A casual toss, but I wasn’t fooled. “Where do you want to go? Pick somewhere you’ve always wanted to go but haven’t because…” Shit.
“Price?” His grin was wide. “Mr. Erickson, there are dozens of restaurants in the city that fit that description.”
Double shit.
“It’s Peter. Please, call me Peter.” Hadn’t he already done that? Why the formality? He was informal with Cole. I wanted that. Sure, I knew plenty of people in the biz and could shoot the shit with them, but something about this young man struck me. Hell, I didn’t even know his age. He had one of those timeless faces. No lines but also a bit of mileage, if that made sense.
“Okay, Peter.” He man
aged but clearly struggled. “I’m not big on fancy.”
He had a point. My name would get us past many a maître d’, but we’d draw attention. I didn’t feel like that either. But I wanted to treat him.
“I have an idea.” He nodded toward the street.
I liked ideas. Within five minutes we were on the bus headed who knew where. This was an adventure for a man like me who liked his regimented life. Thomas guided me to the back doors where we pressed close. “We’re not going far, so no point trying to snag seats.” Not that we could have, given the bus was packed. Plenty of people were sandwiched like sardines, so we weren’t likely to garner attention. As he leaned close, his breath tickled my ear. “Lots of tourists this time of year. We’re headed to the beach.”
The beach? We were hardly dressed for the beach.
His grin was whip-quick. “And the sea wall. There are a bunch of food trucks, so I’m sure we’ll find something of interest.”
Food trucks? Now that I could get into. There was something decadent about going casual, about not worrying about paparazzi and their ubiquitous cameras. Things were much different up here, for which I was grateful. Very little time passed until Thomas pushed a button and a ding sounded. The bus pulled over, and we got off. Thomas yelled some words of thanks, but I doubted whether the driver heard above the din.
When was the last time I’d taken a bus? Well, I’d done a scene on a bus a couple of years ago, but that hardly counted. I was wedded to my electric car. I tried to tell myself I was environmentally minded, but the true converts only used transit or walked. Nothing in LA was within walking distance, and the bus never seemed to be going the same place I was. Also, being recognized frequently proved awkward. Even being prepared, I was often uneasy with fans. Some actors reveled in the attention. For them, celebrity and the job were synonymous. For me, it was the work. The infamy was a by-product, not the raison d’être.
“This way.”
Thomas led me down one busy street, dodging foot traffic. I almost reached for his hand so I wouldn’t lose him, but rationality set in. Sure, there were other people holding hands, including several same-sex couples, but that wasn’t me. It probably wasn’t Thomas either. We emerged from a side street and crossed a boulevard, and then, suddenly, the seawall appeared. The wide path was covered with people. So many people. Taking advantage of the beautiful weather, undoubtedly.
“This way.”
I’d follow him anywhere at this point, but there were several trucks. My stomach rumbled. Lunch felt like a million hours ago. And to think I’d been debating taking a swim before dinner. Food held much greater appeal.
Two trucks grabbed my attention. One promised Greek kabobs and the other Mexican fare. I had plenty of Mexican down home, so I decided on Greek.
“You look like a man on a mission.” Amusement laced Thomas’s voice. He looked at me, squinting as if trying to discern my choice. “I think…Greek?”
“A mind reader.” The fact I’d stopped in front of that truck was probably a good indicator. “Are you thinking Greek also?”
He nodded.
“Well, let it be my treat.”
A shadow passed across his expression, a slight frown marring his lovely face. His brown eyes flickered before shuttering. “Yeah, sure, if you insist.”
Even I recognized pride. Had been there myself, many times. I also appreciated that I easily made twenty times more money than he did. Probably closer to forty times. “I insist because I asked you. You can pay the next time.”
Uh, what?
Instead of confusion or wariness, he grinned. “Oh, now that I can agree to. I know a great little Italian place. Hole in the wall that only the locals know about. Pasta by the pound that tastes amazing and is dirt cheap.”
Any thoughts of retracting the offer vanished. I loved Italian, although consuming pasta by the pound was out of the question. We’d only begun to spend time together, and I was already looking forward to more. Silly, maybe, but there it was.
Thomas placed his order, and I added mine. I handed over a twenty and indicated the woman could keep the change. Her raised eyebrow segued into a nod of thanks. Within mere moments we had our food and headed down to the beach. We perched on the grass near the sand. Thomas had donned his sunglasses, and as the light sparkled off the water, I considered putting mine on as well. The sun had moved closer to the horizon, and more shade had appeared, but I was glad we were out in the sun. God knew we were both still coated in sunscreen. Kelci had applied it religiously on me, and I’d spotted her nudging Thomas as well who’d dutifully done as the woman told him. Smart man. And not just sun smarts.
I bit into my lamb kabob and groaned in pleasure. I didn’t eat a ton of meat, opting instead for shakes as my main source of protein. Sinking my teeth into real meat appealed. A throwback to our ancestors who lived on the stuff. They hadn’t faced animal rights activists and global warming as threats to enjoyment.
Thomas popped part of a gyro in his mouth. His moan rivaled mine, and then he licked his fingers. Holy fuck, was there anything sexier? The whole day had been an exercise in compartmentalizing. Seeing Thomas as an assistant and nothing more.
But now? As he enjoyed his food, I saw him as a man. A man who took great pleasure in the little things. An uncomplicated man. Or at least that was the part of him he’d shown me. Who knew? Maybe he had a wife and three kids at home with a dog and mortgage payments. One could never tell what someone was really like if they chose to hide that part of themselves. I, of all people, knew the truth of that.
When we’d both consumed every scrap of food, Thomas collected our paper plates and rose gracefully. He walked to the recycling container to toss them in. My mouth dried. I knew he had a great ass. I’d glimpsed it several times today, including once when he’d bent to retrieve my water bottle. But now he was all lanky legs, tight butt, solid thighs. Those jeans fit him like a second skin, and his T-shirt hugged his back, showing all the muscles as he flexed. He turned quickly, and our eyes met. Even with his shades, I knew he’d caught me staring.
The moment spun out as I waited for his reaction. Had I wanted him to know I was checking him out? That I liked what I saw?
He sauntered back and dropped to the ground beside me. He stretched his arms behind him on the grass and leaned back, face to the sun. “Why acting?”
Huh? Oh. “The bug bit me early, as they say. Hometown production of Oklahoma. Which was cute because we lived in Texas.”
“You sing?”
“What? Oh, yeah, not very well. But there were never enough guys, so pretty much all the males got parts. That year I landed the role of Curly and had three solid months of vocal training to be able to perform the role with the gravitas it deserved.”
I glanced over and snickered. “I did okay, but I loved being someone else. I’m sure you hear that shit all the time, but for me it was true. I wanted to be someone else, to escape my life. I got good grades and headed to the University of Southern California because I knew no future existed for me in Marble Falls, Texas as an actor. Or anything else. My mother was a short-order cook, my father a ranch hand. They saved from the time I was born for my education. They weren’t happy about my studying acting in SoCal, but they got over it pretty quickly.”
“You must’ve made them proud.”
Shit. I removed my hat and wiped my brow with the back of my forearm. A trickle of sunscreen got in my eye. At least that’s what I told myself when I teared up. Twenty-something years and it still got to me. “They died in a car accident just after I started college. They never lived to see my success.”
“Man, I’m going to say sorry because that’s shitty. And I probably read something about that somewhere.”
I waved off his apology. “I don’t wear a sign. After I was nominated for a Golden Globe, a few reporters came sniffing around. They published the story, but that was an end of it. No one ever asks these days.”
“And here I am, stepping in it.”
Snickering, I smiled. “Not hardly. They died a long time ago. I’ve had more recent losses…” Uh, again, shit. I hadn’t meant to say that. Given the snap of Thomas’s head in my peripheral vision, my confession hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Can we walk?”
“Of course.”
Quick and easy. As if he’d consider arguing. That power imbalance thing again.
We rose, and he pointed toward the walkway. Falling into step was easy—resisting the urge to reach for him was tougher.
A seagull flew overhead, dipping down to the ground to peck at a piece of trash.
Thomas shooed the bird away, scooped up the litter, and tossed it into a bin nearby.
Natural. Easy fluid movements. Sleek and lean. He might not be classically handsome, but his body was a thing of beauty. Something to be coveted, if I were so inclined. I’m not. Because feelings like this could complicate things. Didn’t stop me from fantasizing what could be. If we could hold hands. If we could be boyfriends. If we could be lovers.
Lovers. I’d been Desmond’s lover for years, but had I ever inhabited his heart? Oh, he’d told me he loved me plenty of times, but that’d been to keep me coming back, I now saw, rather than true affection. His career always meant more to him than I did. Why this mattered now, I wasn’t sure. I’d made my bed and was lying in it.
Alone.
“Those are deep thoughts, but I have the solution to all your problems.”
“I have problems?” Teasing. Making light of the dark direction our conversation had veered to.
“Peter, that furrow in your brow is at risk of becoming permanent. Won’t do to have a sex symbol with a scowl.” He tapped my forehead, and although light, our gazes held for a moment. Pulling back his hand, he stuck both of them in his pockets but didn’t look away. After a moment, he smiled. “Ice cream.”
Okay, not what I expected. But then where had I thought this was going anyway? “I like ice cream. Can’t have a lot of it, but I like to indulge.”