“We’ve brought new writers onto the team, Cal and Stewart.” He pauses while they wave. “They were on the Royals in Love team, so are experienced with this theme.”
“Are you thinking of including sex scenes?” asks Miranda.
I swallow dryly and nearly choke. As I fumble for my coffee cup, I nearly spill it.
“Yes.”
Miranda raises an eyebrow. “How explicit?”
“As explicit as we can get away with, it’s what the fans want,” states the showrunner.
Miranda’s face contorts into an unimpressed expression. “A twenty percent pay increase and he is not to be depicted as the bottom.”
Everyone turns to me as I choke on my coffee. Thankfully, I recover quickly and people are far more engrossed in the unfolding drama between Miranda Jones and the showrunner. The attention is soon back on them and away from me.
Mackenzie is staring at the table as if all of this is immensely boring and he can’t wait to get out of here. I wonder how he is really feeling.
The showrunner is conferring with the producers and the writing team. They don’t seem outraged by Miranda’s insistence which is ridiculous. In all the fanfic I’ve read, which is a fair amount, Cain is very clearly the bottom. Fans really dig the idea of the bad, snarky, powerful one submitting. It’s also strikingly obvious when looking at us which way it would go. He looks like an elf and he has totally got that androgynous thing going on, while I have muscles. I look pure man. Like a jock. I’m being hugely heteronormative but I don’t care. This isn’t real life, it’s a show. The visuals matter.
Besides, in all my fantasies about Mackenzie, that’s the way it has gone down. Trying to imagine it the other way makes me feel super confused because I’m not entirely against it and that just makes me feel even more bewildered about my sexuality. Having a crush on and wanting to rail a guy that looks like a girl is one thing. Wanting to be taken up the ass, is quite another.
“Okay, we can agree to the raise and we can keep the sex scenes ambiguous,” announces the showrunner.
I shoot a glance at my agent but she just shrugs apologetically. No more money for me then. But I’m far too busy having an existential crisis to be able to care. I try to shove my gay panic aside, it’s not relevant at all to the show. What Cain and Abe do has nothing to do with me and Mackenzie. Nothing is ever going to happen between us. Acting out some sex scenes together is as close as it is ever going to get.
I squirm in my seat as further thoughts crowd my mind. I’m going to get to kiss him. I will be discovering if his lips are as soft as they look. The thought makes me giddy with anticipation.
These are going to be my first sex scenes but I’m not daft, I know there is nothing actually sexy about them. The entire crew will be watching. Every movement will be directed. They might even use body doubles for some shots. But the kissing will be real. As in our lips will really touch. Our bodies will be pressed up close. My cock twitches and I slam my thoughts down. There is no way in hell I’m going to sit in a meeting with a boner.
“I trust there will be an intimacy coach?” drawls Miranda.
The showrunner nods. “Of course.”
That sounds really good. An expert is absolutely what I need. To help me give the best performance I can. And to advise me on how not to get hard whilst kissing Mackenzie Jones.
Chapter eight
“Cut!”
Mackenzie leaps away from me like I smell. The longing, brooding look he was giving me mere seconds ago has vanished, to be replaced with haughty disdain. The absence of his body heat feels colder than the arctic.
“You were great!” I gush. Desperate for something to say, for someway to cling onto our connection.
He raises an eyebrow. “Thanks,” he mutters dismissively as he stalks away.
“What the fuck is his problem,” I huff under my breath.
“You really don’t know?” asks Alice, making me jump out of my skin.
I had completely forgotten she was standing right next to me. She had been in the scene we just filmed, but as soon as Cain and Abe started pushing each other around in macho rivalry, I had become completely oblivious to her presence.
I stare at her and belatedly wonder how she feels about being relegated from the leading lady and love interest, to the third wheel. It can’t feel good.
She smirks at me. “He fancies you.”
My mind screeches to a halt as I forget every word I have ever learned. What she is saying can not be true. It’s the craziest notion I have ever heard. I’ve considered many reasons for him hating me. From him thinking he is far above me, to him being socially awkward. I’ve even wondered if I have insulted him. The thought that he might be treating me like shit because he fancies me is ludicrous. It’s school boy behavior.
“It’s true. I saw his face after our first read-through, when Liliah met you in the lobby and you kissed her.”
