“On my way,” I croaked, knowing time was shy before I was next needed on set.
Lead trudged through my veins, but I hurried so I wouldn’t miss my cue. I had to sub out a shirt with a comically-placed stain on it for that particular scene. It was around 2 p.m. and the lack of sleep from the storm was really catching up to me. A large cup of coffee waited for me at the entrance desk. A handwritten note on the side told me that was my delivery.
Here’s to sunnier skies today. See you tonight. -Jockey
I thanked the desk attendant and took my still surprisingly hot coffee. The sticker on the side said it was a hazelnut latte.
Did Mikey drive two hours round trip to bring me a coffee? It could have been a delivery service, but it looked like his handwriting. I’d slept so heavy once I was in his bed. I took a sip off the top of the latte as I hustled back to set, my breaths shallow.
Mikey was my fake boyfriend, but who would he have been faking for at work? The only person who knew about him was Kitty, and she knew we were faking.
For that matter, who were we faking for at all? I hadn’t seen Cole since the jealousy-inducing kiss, and Mikey’s mom was back home in Detroit.
And was it faking for him to hold me through the storm the night before?
After the stain scene wrapped, I sent Mikey a quick selfie of me sipping my drink with a thank you. Like the devil from a puff of smoke, Irina materialized.
“When you’re done posing for the camera with your coffee break, we’ve got a new scene to shoot,” she spat.
“The pieces are already prepped,” I said with a forced smile.
“I was unaware we were leaving for a coffee run,” she said, glaring at my cup.
“Actually, my boyfriend brought it,” I said, cocking my head to the side and turning for the wardrobe trailer.
She followed in step behind me. “It’s really unprofessional foran apprentice to be getting visits at work from her boyfriend.”
And it’s really unprofessional for you tonot do your job, I almost shot back. My blood boiled, but then I remembered that I had an NHL player waiting at home to take me out to dinner. Did it matter that he wasn’t my real boyfriend?
Kind of. I oscillated between being nervous and feeling giddy on my whole long commute home. What was forty minutes at 5 a.m. was an hour and twenty minutes at 4 p.m. When I finally walked into the apartment, Mikey sat at the kitchen island, scrolling his phone. By that point, whatever stink he’d put in Cole’s apartment was most everywhere in Mikey’s. He had an ocean-themed candle lit and the windows open, but the faint seafood stench prevailed.
“Welcome home, Sweet Cheeks,” Mikey said, dropping his phone and looking up with a grin. He jumped up to greet me as I put my bag and keys behind the door. He chewed his lip with his hands in his jeans pockets, looking surprisingly shy as he waited for me to empty my hands. He had on a backward hat to go with his t-shirt and jeans, which pumped up his sex appeal. After the latte worked its way out of my system, I went right back to my exhausted state at work.
But being in Mikey’s presence again was like a shot of intravenous caffeine. He was happy to see me. We turned to face each other and he opened his arms for a hug. As his much less seafood and much more sea breeze scent enveloped me, I relaxed in his embrace, both of us swaying from side to side exaggeratedly. The urge to kiss him again kept going through me like tiny jolts of electricity, each little lightning bolt saying “DO IT.” But I couldn’t. I was too nervous. If we kissed alone, it was real. Did he want it to be real?
Still, I enjoyed it when he mumbled in my ear, “Missed you, roomie.”
I laughed and squeezed him a little tighter. It felt like in college when you’re randomly really touchy with the people who live inyour dorm because you’re all just far from home and essentially lost souls looking for somewhere to land. “Thanks for my coffee, roomie.”
“No problem. Thought you might need it after last night.”
I blushed and pulled out of our hug. I hated to admit how vulnerable I’d been getting with him. I was eager to change the subject.
“Let me go change and we can go get tacos? You can tell me all about your trip.”
“Yeah, I’ll order our ride. Can you be ready in ten?”
I nodded and ducked in my room. Fuck, I really wasn’t expecting to be so thrilled with Mikey coming home. He was essentially waiting by the door for me, and the way he looked nervous made my stomach all first-date melty. I hadn’t felt this way since I met Cole, and even then, it was such a calm affair. There was a spark, we pursued it, and we stayed together.
But with Mikey, it wasn’t just sparks. It was a mouthful of Pop Rocks. And it scared the shit out of me. I had no business getting invested with anyone, much less with a womanizer like Mikey.
And yet there I was, carefully choosing my outfit to try and show off for him.
I put on a burnt orange tee that didn’t show too much cleavage (a hard feat with me) and tucked it into a short vintage corduroy green skirt, matching his laid-back vibe but letting him see a little more skin. I put a leather jacket on top for the evening’s chill, and I was pretty happy with my look.
Ben was, too, giving me a long look up and down with a simpy smile when I came back into the kitchen. “You dressed up,” he said.
“Ah, not too much. I wanted to look as cool as you,” I said, dismissing him.
