“But I’m still top,” he amends.
I just shake my head wryly at him. I’m too ecstatic about actually having a nice time, to argue with him. Then my attention is caught by a camera flash outside. Quite a crowd has gathered.
“Ready to face our fans?” I ask.
He sighs wearily, and the sparkle leaves his eyes. “As I’ll ever be.”
His reaction surprises me. I adore meeting fans. It’s a buzz, a thrill. I get a high off of it that lasts for days, but then it is still relatively new to me. I can’t fathom what it must be like to grow up with it, for it to be your normal. As every day as popping to the shop.
We pay the bill, retrieve our jackets and head out. As we reach the front door, I see Mackenzie take in a deep breath and straighten his shoulders, as if bracing himself. Then we step into the chaos. I smile, pose for photos, chat and sign autographs. At some point, I look over at Mackenzie. He is doing the same. He has a happy grin on his face and it is impossible to tell he is hating every moment. But I know. I can tell.
Eventually, we make it to the car. As soon as we are safely inside and the door shuts, Mackenzie lets out a big relieved sigh. I want to hold his hand or say something comforting. But I don’t. I just sit there like a clueless idiot.
After a short drive, the driver pulls onto my drive. My house is dark and empty. I live alone now.
I get out of the car and I’m just about to say goodbye, when he surprises me by scrambling out after me. We stand there in my driveway, standing toe to toe. His expression is unreadable. He sways slightly. He did drink quite a lot of wine. I didn’t notice earlier that he was drunk, but now, thinking about our conversation in the restaurant, there had been a glassiness to his eyes and his speech had been very slightly slurred. I’m disappointed that it might have been the alcohol that got him finally talking to me rather than my charm.
“Goodbye,” he says softly.
Then he staggers, I catch his elbow to steady him and end up pulling him to me until we are chest to chest, with him leaning on me. The feel of his body pressed up to mine is electrifying. His body heat melds with mine. I can smell his cologne. He stares at me wide-eyed, his lips part.
“Gonna invite me in for coffee?” he asks.
The look in his sapphire eyes takes my breath away. It’s part fear, part need, part loneliness, part other things I cannot discern. All together it’s one hundred percent vulnerable. A soul deep, ‘I’m yours, if you want me’. I have no idea what to do with it.
“Nah, no one to see,” I joke.
The sparkle goes out of his eyes to be replaced with a blank nothingness. He steps away from me and the transformation is so complete, I’m wondering if I just had a vivid hallucination. There is no energy between us now. No anything.
“Bye then,” he mutters as he climbs back into the car.
I stand in my driveway and watch the car until it is out of sight. Did I just make the worst mistake of my life? Or was he just playing the part even though there are no witnesses here? But it can’t have been genuine. Even if he does fancy me, he hates me. One pleasant evening is not going to make him pivot from that, to wanting to have sex with me. Unless he digs hate sex, but I still don’t even know if he swings that way.
I run my hand through my hair and try to calm myself. If by some miracle his offer was genuine, I was right to turn him down. He was drunk. And one of the myriad of things I had seen in his eyes was fear. I don’t think it was fear of rejection, it seemed deeper than that. As if he was frightened of his sexuality or something. As if he was scared I would say yes.
I sigh heavily and finally turn towards my house. Trust Mackenzie Jones to be confusing as hell. It was just my luck.
Chapter twelve
Myalarmshriekstolife but I have already been up for hours. I turn it off but stay lying in my bed in the dark. I usually take a while to rouse and I set my alarms with this in mind, so I have time to linger.
Today is the day I kiss Mackenzie Jones. Excitement, nerves and a jumbled mess of all sorts of emotions twist together uncomfortably in my gut.
Abe is kissing Cain, that is what is really going to happen. There is going to be an entire film crew watching, but I can’t stop wondering what it is going to feel like. I’ve never kissed a guy before, but that barely seems important, I want to know what kissing him is like. I’ve wanted to know for a while now. Mackenzie has the most kissable lips I have ever seen. I really want to taste them, and that makes this feel like cheating, like I’m taking advantage of him. He is going to be doing his job and I’m going to be getting off on it like some old pervert.
At least, I think I’m going to be getting off on it. Maybe I won’t feel a thing and my bizarre infatuation will finally die.
I sigh wearily and haul myself out of bed. Only one way to find out.
A few hours later and I’m pacing nervously in my dressing room. I adjust my codpiece for the thousandth time. It’s just a simple piece of hard flat plastic fixed over my cock, but it’s the only thing that is going to save me. My costume for the upcoming scene is a white tee shirt and soft pale gray pajama trousers for fuck’s sake. Even if my cock doesn’t get excited, it’s large enough to be obscene in such an outfit. Something I’m normally very proud of, but for some reason, right now the thought of my junk on display gives me chills.
The intimacy coach wanted me and Mackenzie to practice kissing in private, with just her observing. Mackenzie flat out refused, and I pretended to be fine with that. The look of gratitude he shot me momentarily warmed my heart. Then my mood had plummeted when I realized how desperate he was not to kiss me anymore than absolutely necessary.
The awkward consequence was that now we were going to have our first kiss in front of the cameras and crew. To say I am nervous is an understatement. I am physically shaking. This state of mind is ridiculous, I am a great kisser. I have plenty of experience. Just not in front of cameras or with him. The desire to make it the best kiss of his life burns through me. I’m more concerned with that, than making it look good, which is absurd. Mackenzie Jones has robbed me of the ability to form rational thoughts.
I’m called to set and I get my head in the game. Abe is chilling at home, he hasn’t seen Cain for a few days and he is trying not to worry.
“Action!”
