“But?”
“Just like with the ink, it’s not cheap. We would need supplies to frame the pictures, some sort of wall or location to display them. And that’s just like an ongoing display,” I say, mentally creating a list for myself. “If we wanted to do a legit art show? I don’t even want to imagine the costs, let alone the logistics. I’m only one volunteer person, after all.”
“We can make this happen, babe.” The confidence in Corey’s voice wraps around me like a comforting embrace. “Please, let me help. Shit, I’m sure I can get Aaron on board to sponsor or something.”
My face heats at the mention of my boss. “I cannot ask my billionaire boss to sponsor a youth art show!”
“Why not? And he’s not just ‘your boss’,” Corey muses. “He’s my best friend, which makes him your friend, too.”
I hadn’t even considered that until now. Tears are truly threatening to spill over at this point, so I hastily change the subject.
“Enough about my day,” I say as I wipe a stray tear from my cheek. I pray he can’t tell from my voice that I’m crying—happy, nervous, excited tears? “How was your day? How has work been?”
“Eh,” Corey says. I know what he’s going to say before he even says it. “It’s fine. Nothing exciting.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“So, what are you working on, then? I honestly know nothing about your day-to-day, besides your workouts. Tell me something. Directing any upcoming movies?” Corey clears his throat, but it turns into a cough. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he chokes out. I hear the snap of a bottle and the sound of his throat working. “Spit went down the wrong pipe,” he says.
“Hate when that happens.”
“Yeah.” Corey is quiet for a moment. There’s a soft knocking in the background, and he says, “Listen, Bex, I have to go. There’s this producer meeting I need to join. It’s starting in a few minutes.”
I glance at the time on my phone screen. 7:35 p.m. Weird time to be having a professional meeting, but I shrug. “Of course.”
“Hey,” he says softly, catching on to the distance in my tone. “I love talking with you. And I’m looking forward to video chatting with you tomorrow night.”
“I love talking to you, too, Corey.” The tears are back, but I don’t hold them in this time. Why am I so emotional over… whatever is happening right now?
“Goodnight, baby.”
He ends the call before I can whisper, “Goodnight, sir.”
Chapter 20
Corey
For the first time since I got into the adult film business, I’m really regretting my life choices. I’m alone in a sterile trailer on the set of “Edgelord,” waiting for Bex to call me, and I can’t help but wish I was anywhere but here.
Filming started two days ago, and it pains me to think there’s at least four more days to go. When Neon Nights Media booked this project with Mark Savage, I was thrilled. It’s a huge production, with a lot of well-known performers in some hot locations, and some of the sexiest scenes I’ve ever readin print.
Maybe I wouldn’t hate it so much if my ex wasn’t starring opposite me. Sabrina Ryder. The only long-term partner I’ve ever had in my life. My ex-fucking-wife. We were everything until we were nothing. I’ll never forget how, after six years together, she texted me saying she was moving on. Promised to have all of her things moved out of the two-million dollar house we shared in Los Feliz by the end of that week.
Six years, gone via text message.
Needless to say, we haven’t spoken in the five years that have passed since. Maybe a nod of acknowledgement at industry events, but we’ve pretty much stayed clear of each other.
And now we’re starring in a film, our first together in so long, and we’re supposed to fuck, suck, lick, spank, and tease each other like it’s our job. And yeah, it is our job, but goddamn if it’s not the most challenging film I’ve done in my life. For the first time in my career, I’m having issues getting ready to perform.
I can’t get hard. Not when I see or hear Sabrina, and she’s in almost every scene with me. Not only is it emasculating, but it’s knocking me down a couple of rungs on my ladder of confidence and ego.
There’s a knock on my trailer door and I hesitate before saying, “Come in.”
The door swings open, and Mark steps up into the trailer. Thank fuck, because if it was Sabrina, I might lose it.
