Weirdly, she doesn’t look at me as she starts scrubbing at the mess I’ve made on her stomach. I’m suddenly aware of how quiet it is in here and also how dim—the September afternoon has started to bleed into evening outside, the first pinpricks of starlight piercing the thick sky above my skylight.
I turn on a lamp, and then start breaking down the tripods to put back in my office, watching Devi out of the corner of my eye the whole time. She seems pensive, methodical, as she finishes cleaning up and gets to her feet.
“Are you okay?” I ask as she returns from throwing away the used baby wipes. She’s still naked, still in those girlish knee socks with that immensely tuggable braid, and it’s so hard for me to focus on anything other than dragging her back to bed. I promised myself that I’d get boyfriend time after we made it through this scene, and now we’ve made it, and I just want to wrap myself up in her and never let go, but something doesn’t feel right. But I can fix that—I’ll talk to her, and apologize and explain everything, and then it will be better.
Then kissing until the sun comes up.
“Yeah,” she says, “everything is okay.” And I can tell that she’s not exactly lying, but that she’s not giving me the whole answer either. And just as I’m about to launch into the speech I should have given her hours ago when she showed up at my door, she asks, “So this was really the last scene we’ll shoot for Star-Crossed?”
And then her distance makes sense, because she and I haven’t talked explicitly about the future of the series, and I’m so relieved because I get to tell her all the exciting stuff that Marieke and I dreamed up. And she’ll be a central part of it, and I know she’ll love that we get to keep working together like this.
I button up my jeans and flop down on the couch, patting the space next to me. She obliges, sitting down, but she sits a couple feet away from me, her legs tucked under her and one arm wrapped around the back of the couch, as if she’s bracing herself.
“So I know you know that Marieke and Vida are thrilled with Star-Crossed and how it’s turned out, and we all think it’s going to be fucking huge when it debuts in November. They want to do a second season, and I do too. The only real question is if you’d be on board for that.”
Her face lights up—but just a little. “Thank you for asking,” she says softly, hesitantly. “I think I’d like that. I’ll have to think about it though.”
It’s not a contract signature, but almost.
I grin. “Excellent! Marieke and I are thinking we could start filming in another month or so, just as soon as we line up the other performers.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Other performers?” she asks.
I nod enthusiastically. “So just like this season set up ‘Logan and Devi’ as a couple, this next season will follow another couple. But get this—” I’m so excited I can barely sit still “—we’ll be in it too, and there will be a much more complicated dynamic. Threesomes and foursomes and maybe even the illusion of cheating—nothing too seedy, of course, since we want this to be couples-friendly—but edgy enough that there’s that illicit thrill, you know?”
Devi looks away, chewing on her bottom lip, and I notice that her hand is gripping the back of the couch. “So we’ll be having sex with other people?”
I scoot closer. “Yeah, but we’ll still have sex together too. And sometimes it will be combined scenes. I think this has the potential to be incredibly hot and something really different, you know? Like The Affair, but porn.”
She searches my face. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”
I blink. She’s not angry or upset, but there’s something strange in her tone. Strange and cautious, and I’m reminded of everything I still need to say.
But first, “Yes, I’m super excited,” I say. I take her free hand because I just can’t help it, I want to touch her and feel connected to her. “I love this project. It’s porn at its best, you know? Forbidden and hot and a little emotional, a little artistic.”
I hear my voice—energetic and full of optimism. Loud in the quiet, dark living room. I lower it as I gesture to the rug and to the camera equipment on the floor. “Don’t we have the best job ever, Devi? The best life? We get to fuck for a living. We get to feel good and make other people feel good for money. And yes, sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes the money is thin and the jobs aren’t great. But how many people get to love what they do for a living? How many people get to work their dream job? And Star-Crossed is exactly the kind of thing I want my dream job to be.”
I can see her turning this over in her mind, and it encourages me to be the logical, compartmentalizing guy I need to be right now. “Hey,” I say, catching her chin with my finger and meeting her eyes. “I need to say some stuff.”
I can see her wrestle with something, and God, I wish I knew what she’s wrestling with. “Okay,” she agrees after a minute. “I think that might be good.”
I lick my lips. I spent a good three years of my life constantly apologizing to a girlfriend who I was never political or intellectual enough for, and so you’d think I’d be good at it by now. But instead I’m insanely nervous. I have to get this right. If I get it wrong, if I lose Devi…