“Too preppy. Should have gone for someone more…hardcore. Tatted up. Rocker-looking.”
Me.
“Julio thought it would be a good look to have a clean-cut guy contrast her image and also to help keep things mainstream.”
Julio’s a prick as well.
I shrug. “Whatever. Guess he’ll have to do, not like you can bring in another actor now.”
Zane looks back out at the scene before us. “No, guess not,” he muses.
“So, we going out after this?” Den slumps into the chair on the other side of me and passes me a can of Coke.
“Yeah,” I answer, cracking the can open. Then, I get distracted by something Julio is saying.
“Lyla, honey, put your hands on Andy. We gotta make the audience believe you’re in love with him. Andy, take off your shirt. It might work better if we have a bit of skin to work with.”
Um…what the fuck? Why do they need his shirt off?
I can’t help the laugh that escapes, when Andy removes his shirt.
There’s not an ounce of man about him. Sure, he might be toned, but he’s all waxed chest and fake tan. I’m pretty sure he’s wearing guy-liner. He doesn’t even have a tattoo, for fuck’s sake. I mean, what kind of man doesn’t have a tattoo? The preppy kind—that’s who.
“So, what do you think?” Den’s voice filters through my thoughts.
Lyla now has her hands pressed against the prick’s chest, and he’s kissing her neck.
My hands clench into fists on my thighs. I have to drag my eyes away from the set. “What do I think of what?”
Den gives me a strange look. “I said, do you wanna go gambling before or after we go out clubbing?”
“Don’t care.” My eyes go straight back to Lyla.
She’s unbuttoning the top button on his pants.
What the hell?
Okay, top off—sure, I get that, kind of. But why the pants?
If she takes off his pants, I’m shutting this fucking circus down. We’re not shooting a porno here.
“Tom, you all right, man? You seem a bit distracted.”
My eyes flick to Den. “I’m not distracted.” I look back to Lyla.
Okay, we’re good. The little prick’s pants are still on. She was just unbuttoning them for a shot that Julio wanted to take.
Cool. All is goodish again.
Then, fucking Julio opens his mouth, “Lyla, honey, I think we should have you shirtless for this part. Top off, but keep your bra on. Skin on skin will make this work better.”
Hold the motherfucking phone.
I’m out of my seat, and before I realize it, I say, “Are you fucking serious? You really need her to take her top off? We’re not filming a goddamn porno here.”
Silence hits the room.
Julio turns and stares at me. Actually, everyone in here is staring at me. Lyla included.
I avert my eyes from her.
I’m acting like a jealous boyfriend.
I’m not a jealous boyfriend. No fucking way.
“Tom.” Zane gets out of his seat. “I know you’ve had a few issues with some of the ideas we had. Why don’t we go have a chat while they get this scene down? Then, we can bring your ideas back.”
Zane is actually being genuine. But now, I just feel like a complete dick, and I need to get the fuck out of here.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t have any ideas. Everything you’re doing is fine. I’ve got something I need to be doing”—drinking—“so I’ll catch you later.” I pick up my jacket, and I’m out of there like a shot.
“Wait up!” Den calls from behind me.
I slow my stride, but I don’t stop. I can’t even bring myself to look at him. I know what he’s thinking.
“What the fuck was that?” He laughs, sounding a little out of breath from running to catch up.
“What was what?”
“Um…your little outburst.”
“It was nothing.” There’s bite in my tone, but I don’t care. I stride ahead and stab at the button for the elevator.
We don’t speak again until we’re seated in the hotel bar, and our drinks are ordered.
“So, you’re screwing Lyla,” Den says, amusement in his voice.
It instantly raises my guard. I meet his stare with a glare. “Yes, I’m screwing Lyla. What of it?”
A grin slides onto his face. “I’m taking it you were jealous back there, watching her with that guy. That’s why you were acting like a complete fucking weirdo.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” I scoff. “I don’t get jealous.”
I was so jealous.
What the hell is happening to me?
“How long have you been banging her?”
I frown at him. “Jake been talking?”
He lets out a laugh. “No, surprisingly, Jake’s kept his mouth shut, which tells me he thinks this is as serious as I do.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not serious. You know I don’t do serious.”
“So, how long?” he pushes.
I smile in thanks at the waitress who just brought our drinks over. I wait until she’s gone before answering, “About three weeks.”
“You fuck anyone else in that time?”
“What is this? Twenty fucking questions?”
He picks his drink up, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You’re not usually shy about sharing the details of your sex life.”
He’s right, I’m not. Motherfucker. I don’t want to say anything about Lyla and me, but I know he’ll turn this into a bigger thing if I don’t offer up the goods.
“Okay, fine. I’m only fucking Lyla. I haven’t fucked anyone else since I put my cock in her hole.”
“Holy shit!” He barks out a laugh. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be with just one woman. Dude, I’m sorry to break this to you, but you’re in a relationship with Lyla.”
My heart stops. Dead.
I’m not.
Am I?
No.
No way. We’re just fuck buddies.
“I’m not in a relationship with her.”
“Yeah, and I’m Steve Jobs.”
“You do realize he’s dead, don’t you?”
“Fuck off! And whatever. You’re in a relationship with Lyla.”
“What are you? Five? I’m not in a relationship with Lyla, dickhead. She’s my fuck buddy.”
“Fuck buddies usually have sex with other people. That’s kinda the point. They have a regular, but they get to fuck others, too.”