Liam’s eyes were bright with fury and hurt, his fists knotted at his sides. “We both came… in front of half the crew. Don’t you dare try to deny it. I was there. I know what happened. And now you won’t even fucking look at me.”
“Don’t.” He meant it to sound firm, but it came out like a plea.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t make it sound so simple.”
Liam’s glare burned, but his voice softened on the edges. “I’m not. It’s not. It’s a fucking mess.”
Jacob took a step forward, not closing the space, but nearer all the same. “It happened,” he ground out.
The words stilled Liam where he stood.
Jacob forced himself to hold his gaze. “I’m not pretending it didn’t happen.”
Liam’s face twisted, equal parts relief and anguish. “Then talk to me. Don’t freeze me out like I’m crazy. Like I’m the only one drowning in this.”
He hated how easy it was to read him. Every thought spilled across his expression, a map of emotions anyone could follow. Meanwhile, Jacob fought to keep his own locked down where no one could touch them.
He exhaled slowly, a sound that felt too much like surrender. “You’re not alone.”
For a moment Liam only stared at him, suspicion etched deep. He looked like he wanted to believe those words, but couldn’t quite let himself.
“You think this is easy for me?” Jacob’s voice snapped louder, frustration breaking through restraint. “You think I’m walking away clean here?”
“I don’t know.” Liam’s shoulders sagged with the words. “You’re sure as hell acting like it.”
“I’ve got a family too,” he said, the confession punching out of him before he could stop it. “I have a wife. Kids. And I still—” He cut himself off. No way in hell he was finishing that thought.
He met Liam’s eyes. “What do you want from me?”
Liam’s throat worked. “I don’t know. I just… I can’t keep pretending.”
Neither could he. Denial felt pointless when the truth was already there between them. The damage was done, and pretending otherwise would only make him a coward. “It wasn’t nothing,” he managed, the words barely more than a breath.
Liam’s eyes shone with desperation. “Then what are we doing?”
Jacob shook his head, the motion tight with turmoil. “I don’t know.”
They stood locked in that space, breath shallow, air thick with everything unsaid. The distance between them crackled with want and shame. Jacob’s fists curled, every muscle drawn tight, wanting too many things at once.
He broke the stare first. “Get your head on straight,” he said, his voice even only because he forced it.
The second the words left him, he wanted them back. He sounded like an asshole, and he knew it. But creating distance was easier than dealing with the mess between them. Sometimeshe wished he was capable of being vulnerable, of giving Liam the words he deserved—instead he said: “We’ve got another scene.”
He left before he could say more and make it worse. As he walked down the hall, the truth followed and landed in his chest like a goddamn verdict: there was no way in hell he’d be walking away from this clean. Not even close.
Chapter 20
Jacob
The trailer dropped three days later. He had known it was coming; the studio’s announcement had been sitting in his inbox like a quiet promise, but knowing hadn’t prepared him.
The house was calm when it arrived. The kids were finally asleep after their nightly war against bedtime, their home settling once again after chaos. Caroline sat curled against him on the couch, her bare feet tucked beneath a blanket, and a bowl of popcorn resting lightly on her lap. The TV played softly, its light moving through the room and painting it in color. Everything about it whispered safe and ordinary, something untouchable.
He should have let it stay that way. Instead, he clicked the link the studio had just sent. The screen of his phone came alive, and his chest cinched tight.
They’d cut the trailer to look like foreplay wrapped in poetry—simmering with sensuality and pulsing with something just shy of carnal. It wasn’t done in a graphic way; there was no obvious indecency, but it felt intimate in every frame. Anyone watching would feel it in their gut.
