His mouth looked wrecked, the faintest curve of a smile still clinging there like an aftertaste. And his neck… Jesus. There were more marks now, fresh ones, dark and deliberate, climbing high enough that makeup was going to have to work overtime if he didn’t want the whole crew staring.
He was going to have to ask Benji for a makeup kit to take home, and a crash course on how to use it. The thought made his stomach knot. Holy shit, that was going to be embarrassing—asking for help to hide the fact that he was cheating. Still, he’d have to cover it before he faced Emma; he didn’t have a choice. He rubbed a hand over his face, hating how easily the plan came together.
Behind him, Jacob dragged a black shirt over his shoulders, looking unfairly good—like he’d strolled out of an ad campaign instead of out of bed. He seemed maddeningly put together, like he hadn’t just fucked Liam breathless. God, Liam couldn’t look away.
He forced himself back to the sink, splashed cold water on his face, and braced both palms against the counter until the sting faded from his skin.
Focus.
They had one outdoor shoot left and then it would be finished: half a day’s work with barely any dialogue. After that, the crew would pack up, and tomorrow morning they’d be heading back to Hollywood—back to Emma.
Jacob’s voice came from behind him. “You good?”
Liam kept his eyes on the sink. “Define good.”
There was a pause, followed by the faint rustle of a belt cinching. “Capable of walking. Of pretending you slept. Capable of not looking like you just got absolutely wrecked by your co-star.”
Liam glanced at him in the mirror, deadpan. “You should do morning affirmations for the crew.”
Liam tugged on his T-shirt, and somehow the fabric felt too soft. His skin was still too aware of everything—fabric, air, the memory of hands that still seemed to linger there.
Jacob leaned against the doorway, arms folded, eyes fixed on him with that stare that made Liam feel both seen and defenseless. “I’m serious. Can you do this?”
“I’ve done harder scenes on less sleep.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Liam met his gaze in the mirror. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
Jacob’s weight shifted, but the composure stayed. “We’re done shooting in a few hours. After that, we’re off the clock. Free until that bullshit party the studio’s throwing tonight.” His jaw flexed, a shadow passing through his eyes. “Then tomorrow, we’re back to real life. Your perfect wife. My perfect lie. Cameras up our asses.”
The words landed heavier than Liam wanted to admit. He stared down at a loose thread on his shirt, winding it between his fingers.
Jacob took a step forward, closing some of the distance between them. “So here’s the deal. We’ve got one day—just a few hours where none of that exists. That’s it.” His voice carried a weight that made Liam’s chest tighten.
“So stop looking like you already regret everything,” Jacob said. “We made our choices. Feeling guilty doesn’t help anyone.” He shrugged. “Let’s use this time.”
It was exactly like him—no hesitation, no room for doubt, just the blunt edge of truth cutting through the noise. No comfort, no soft place to land, but also no lies. The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong.
Fine.
He could fall apart tomorrow. Today, he’d take what there was to take. Whatever this was, whatever they were, there wouldn’t be another chance like this—locked doors, no paparazzi, and no one to answer to. He’d take the hours and the softness Jacob pretended not to have.
For now, he’d get ready, paste on a smile, and maybe—if he was lucky—find a way to steal a few more moments with the man who had lodged himself under his skin like a goddamn splinter.
***
The shoot wrapped by noon. Quick, easy, nothing dramatic. A quiet lakeside scene with minimal lines and a nod from the director to call it done.
Liam was leaning against a trailer, drinking water that tasted faintly of plastic, when Jacob came up beside him and said, “You want to disappear for a bit?”
Liam narrowed his eyes. “Disappear how?”
Jacob didn’t answer. He just started walking toward the tree line like that was all the explanation needed. Typical.
The trail was narrow and steep, half-swallowed by roots and shadows, the kind of path you only found if you were looking for it. Jacob moved like it was familiar and he’d walked it a hundred times before, steady and sure-footed while Liam stumbled over the uneven ground.
“Jesus,” Liam muttered, ducking under a low branch. “You always walk this fast or are you just trying to impress?”
