Jacob turned slightly, flipping open his script.
“I’ve got it memorized,” Liam offered.
An eyebrow lifted, just a fraction. “Good. Then let’s see what you’ve got.”
And with that, they began.
Chapter 3
Jacob
The first actor hadn’t stood a chance. He was nice enough, with a decent jawline and the kind of safe energy that looked good on paper but carried no heat. When the script demanded fire, he gave nothing to work with. Jacob might as well have been speaking his lines into a wall, watching the words bounce back empty.
The second was stronger. He knew the steps, the angles, the practiced choreography of simulated intimacy. Jacob could have matched him and manufactured the illusion of chemistry, like he’d done countless times before. It would have been convincing on the surface, but it would never burn the way real connection did.
Then the door opened, and Liam Hart walked in. Jacob didn’t look up immediately, too intent on the script in his hands, while Ellen’s voice offered the usual greeting. Another actor to get through; he hoped this one might finally strike a spark.
When he looked up, his focus slipped. The kid was beautiful—a face that was almost too clean, too symmetrical. Except the mouth, full and obscenely plump, the top lip heavier than the bottom in a way that undercut the perfection and made people look twice.
Jacob caught himself staring, something unfamiliar stirring beneath his skin. He forced his gaze away, a tight swallow locking in his throat.Get it together.
He reached out without thinking, the motion automatic. Liam’s hand closed around his a little firmer than expected. For a moment it was nothing more than a handshake, but their eyes caught and held, and the moment stretched. Too long for courtesy. Jacob felt his pulse spike, the grip still anchoring them together.
“Let’s start with scene twenty-one,” Ellen said, her voice slicing through the silence.
Jacob took a step back and turned to the page he didn’t need, his lines already carved into memory. Liam didn’t bother opening the script at all.
“I’ve got it memorized,” he murmured.
Jacob glanced over, impressed. “Good. Then let’s see what you’ve got.”
They moved to the center of the room. There were no marks or lights, only open space waiting for them. Liam started the scene, his delivery catching Jacob off guard. Controlled, precise, but carrying enough intensity to keep it alive. Jacob adjusted without thinking, his own performance cutting closer, the scene building in a rhythm that pulled them both forward.
They moved through the scene without breaking, the energy between them snapping tight and holding. Magnets, caught between push and pull.
By the time they finished, the room had gone silent. Ellen’s eyes gleamed as she leaned forward, excitement clear in her voice. “Let’s move on to scene forty-seven.”
Jacob knew which scene she meant without needing to look: the kiss scene.
“Before we start, quick check on comfort levels,” Ellen said simply. “No pressure. A stage kiss is fine for now—lips only, no tongue. The suggestion’s enough today.”
He nodded without thought, even as something inside him braced. He’d already kissed two men today, so one more shouldn’t matter.
Ellen’s voice drew them into place. “You’ve been circling each other for weeks. Fighting, resisting, unraveling. This is where it breaks. Let it bleed.”
Liam’s lines hit sharp, his voice braced and cutting, and Jacob answered in kind. The back-and-forth was winding tighter until the air between them felt ready to break. He stepped in before he realized he was moving, close enough to feel the heat of Liam’s body. Close enough that their breath mingled in the narrow gap.
He told himself to stay focused on the lines and the scene, but his gaze betrayed him, dragging down to Liam’s mouth, distracting in a way Jacob hadn’t expected.
The silence between them stretched heavier than the scene required, the kind that made the room around them disappear. Jacob’s chest pulled tight, his pulse thudding hard in his throat, and still he didn’t look away from those ridiculously full lips.
He felt himself stepping closer until there was nowhere left to go, their bodies nearly touching, lips hovering inches apart while the air between them thickened. Liam’s lashes flickered, the faintest tremor running through him. Something raw and unfamiliar shifted low in Jacob’s gut, and before he could think, his mouth was on Liam’s.
It should have been nothing; a staged kiss, closed and professional—the kind that skimmed the surface and sold the scene. Instead it hit hard, heat sparking through him at the first brush of lips.
Liam trembled. Jacob felt it, a subtle shiver that passed straight into him, stealing the air from his lungs. He should havepulled back—the kiss was already enough to convince anyone watching.
He didn’t.
