And with Gray.
Riley is afraid—unsure if this is a good idea. Quinn’s already proven he can’t be trusted, and Riley knows that he deserves a stable, unconditional love with someone who won’t go out of their way to hurt him. But Quinn…he’s irresistible, and at this point in the script, the two have been writing scenes back and forth with their own main characters becoming more and more attracted to each other. They’ve just finished writing a scene together where their characters have admitted they want to have sex, which has become explosive tension for Riley and Quinn. This time, when Riley invites Quinn over to write together…
“Action!”
The scene was blocked, but I still feel awkward, as if I’m standing in the wrong spot. I don’t know what to do with my hands. Quinn is staring at me with those eyes, letting me know just how much he wants me. We’ve practically told each other that we want to have sex through our characters, our story.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I tell him, but my voice sounds breathless. Because, no matter how shitty Quinn has been, I can’t deny that I want him, too.
“It’s definitely not a good idea,” he says, grin growing. He pushes off from the desk and walks closer. “But maybe it’ll help with our writing.”
“How so?”
“Our characters are probably going to end up together, right?”
I swallow. “Yeah. Probably.”
“So, it’ll help to figure out what they’re like in bed if we do this. Consider it character development. We’re getting into their heads.”
Quinn stops right in front of me, staring down at me with a smirk. That challenge in his eyes. It’s so similar to the way Logan looked at me while we were on that date, watching me carefully, waiting to see what I would do or say. I blink and look away.
“Cut!”
Shit. Gray immediately breaks the stare and returns to his starting position at the desk. He knows this one is for me.
I wave at Jasmine to let her know I’m all right as Dave clears his throat and jogs over. “Everything okay?” he asks me. “You still feeling comfortable with everything?”
Jesus. I can’t even get through a scene. “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, I just got pulled out for a second.”
“Don’t worry about it. Take your time. This is the one scene we need to get right.” We have the entire day scheduled for just this, even with the recent schedule cuts. Makes sense. We can’t have the sex scene in a romance film look or feel awkward, even if it fades to black.
I take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Dave walks back to the director’s chair. “Action!”
The lines are smoother this time. I can feel heat building. Quinn—Quinn, not Logan—smirks at me as he leans forward. The intimacy coordinator offered to have us rehearse beforehand, but Gray argued it’d be better to let everything physical be spontaneous anyway. I agreed, relieved to avoid as much awkwardness as possible until this moment.
His lips brush mine. I force myself to get into it. I grab Quinn by the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to me, pressing my mouth against his, only a little self-conscious about the moan that escapes. Quinn’s body tenses. He pulls back, staring at me like he’s starting to see a new person—someone I haven’t shown him before, maybe. He yanks me closer and kisses me again, pushing me back onto my bed this time.
He pulls off his shirt and leans over me as he kisses my neck. I open my legs for him and he makes himself comfortable, and Quinn’s—not Logan’s—hard-on presses into my leg. He lets out a breath that’s too close to my ear, and I arch myself into him.
“Cut!”
Gray pushes off me instantly. He’s breathing heavier, and his smirk is gone. At least he can’t pretend to be unbothered. Dave hurries back over.
“It was good, it was good,” he says, hands up, “but—just a little quick, you know? It was hard to feel that growing desire that Quinn and Riley would feel. They would be more tentative still. Try going slower.”
I watch Logan as he leans against the desk again. He stares at me, refusing to look away. I’ve been attracted to him since the moment we met. I didn’t think he would be interested in someone like me, but that heat in his eyes is undeniable. This isn’t just acting. Maybe we’ve both had some pent-up attraction for each other. Maybe that’s why he pushed me away. I could be overanalyzing, but it’s possible, isn’t it?
Lines again, before he walks over to me. He seems more unsure of himself. This might be closer to the real Logan. He lets out a breath, then leans into me—hesitates, continues. My eyes are still open when he kisses me. I close them as I return the kiss. Slow, like Dave asked, and—I don’t know, it feels better, too. One of those soft kneading kisses, a rhythm back and forth. Logan pulls away, and my hand—I didn’t even notice it, but I’ve already begun to pull at his shirt. He tugs the tee over his head and lets it fall to the ground.
I have a moment to take him in. I remember the photos I’d seen of Logan once, back in the days when he was in and out of rehab. He’d been so thin, so it’s nice to see he has some more weight on him. I touch his stomach, which clenches, as if my fingers are cold. I bite my lip, then lean up to kiss him again.
I pull him backward onto the bed. He’s on top of me again. I want to roll over, to straddle his waist, but this is the position we’d decided on, and I can’t change it now. He kisses me again, taking his time from my lips to my neck and my collarbone. He pulls up my shirt and I let him take it off. His kisses continue down, over my chest and stomach and to my jeans. He looks up at me from between my legs and kisses the inside of my thigh. He can probably feel my hard-on against his cheek.
“Is this all right?” he asks me. His voice is so much deeper, almost hoarse.
I nod, letting out a shaky breath. He begins to unbutton my jeans.
The scene ends. “Cut!”
He pushes away and I sit up. Neither of us can look at the other as I tug my shirt back on. Makeup and hair return to the scene, powdering my face and fiddling with the strands of my hair—they probably got messed up from being on the pillow. Dave’s back, and I hear his voice distantly. I try to snap out of it, to come back to reality.
“That was great,” he’s telling us. “It felt more intense. You can try playing around in the next few takes with levels of emotion. Sounds good?”
I chance a look at Logan. He looks at me, too.
“Can I have a break?” I ask.
Dave blinks, then nods. “Yeah, sure.”
I get up from the bed and walk off set, away from the blinding lights and watching eyes.
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