He looked up. “I know.”But she can get in line, Drew didn’t say. “So where are you stuck?”
Steve froze with one hand reaching for his beer on the end table. “I never said I was stuck,” he said neutrally, but he didn’t move.
“Uh-huh.” Drew waved the tablet at him. “But you keep bringing up work”—and Ihopeyou didn’t invite me out here just to finish your script—“and your scene just kind of ends. So what’s the problem?”
“Ugh.” Steve wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t invite you here for work. But you’re right. The problem is I’ve sort of got a ridiculous idea for where the chase should end. It makes sense with the character arcs. But I don’t know… I feel like it undermines the whole purpose of the script, I guess.”
Drew frowned. He didn’t see how one scene could do that. “What do you mean?”
Steve sighed and held out his hand for the tablet. When Drew forked it over, Steve called up a map and passed it back. “Classic. Right there at the end of the Strip. A little off to the side, but I think for the sake of artistic license, we can make it work. If the producers don’t hate the idea.”
Curious, Drew took the tablet and glanced at the screen.Graceland Wedding Chapel.
He started to laugh. “They won’t. They’ll eat it up.”
“You don’t think it’s too….” Steve sighed and ran his hands through his hair again. Drew wanted to copy him and see what it felt like—soft or bristly? Smooth or sticky with product? “This wasn’t supposed to be a romance.”
Drew put the tablet aside. “It isn’t one. Trust me, this is definitely a comedy. It has all the expected elements. So what if it has a romantic subplot? Steve.” Drew had been in enough movies to figure out how this went. He folded his hand over Steve’s. “This is the twenty-first century. It can be more than one thing.”
Steve bit his lip, seeming to weigh something of greater import than the script. “You think I should go for it?”
“Absolutely. I’d be dis—”
Steve shifted forward until his hand rested on Drew’s knee, and the words died on Drew’s lips.
His heart skipped a beat, and Steve’s throat worked as he swallowed. His palm felt warm, a little damp.
Steve tilted his head to the side, his mouth slightly parted. He leaned in slowly, giving Drew plenty of time to pull away. His eyes had gone very dark, heavy with want and laden with hope.
Oh, Drew thought.
Steve kissed him.
For a few seconds Drew couldn’t move, focused intently on the way Steve’s lips fit to his, on the warmth of him and the way he smelled, like grass and grill smoke and a little like sweat. And then reflex took over, and a groan clawed its way out of his throat. He raised his hands, intending to card them through Steve’s hair, but they insisted on the scenic route: they settled on his waist, swept up his back, measured his shoulders. When Steve licked a question across Drew’s lower lip, Drew opened for him, inviting him closer. He wanted to memorize the taste of Steve’s mouth, the slight prickle of stubble against the sensitive skin of his face, just enough of a rasp to make his nipples tighten in anticipation.
Finally Drew slid his hands up, fitting them around the curve of Steve’s skull and into his hair. It was warm with body heat, soft and a little damp, just long enough to tickle across the backs of his hands.
Just long enough to tug, and Drew did, gentle but firm, leaning back into the arm of the couch. Steve got the message, following until he was braced over Drew’s reclining body, supporting himself on the armrest, one knee propped carefully between Drew’s legs. He kissed Drew like he’d been thinking about it since that day at the aquarium, planning out the most thorough way to turn Drew into a dizzy ball of want and nerves.
Steve didn’t stop kissing him until Drew couldn’t hold his head at that angle anymore, and rested his head on the arm of the couch. Then he pulled back enough for Drew to see his eyes, irises still so blue around wide black pupils. The skin around Drew’s mouth tingled. Steve’s arms were shaking.
“You should do that again,” Drew said, a little breathless, pulling gently. His forearms were flat against the broad expanse of Steve’s back. “Maybe with a little more contact? I won’t break, you know.”
“Trying to cop a feel?” Steve joked, but he must not have cared, because Drew barely had time to take a breath before they were kissing again. This time Steve lowered his body over Drew’s until their chests touched, heat seeping easily through thin layers of cotton. He still supported most of his own weight, but Drew liked thepresenceof this, the physical proof that he wasn’t alone.
When Steve relaxed enough to settle his thigh against Drew’s groin, Drew shivered with pleasure. Steve’s erection pressed against his hip, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do anything about it.
They kissed until Drew’s neck was sore and his lips were tired and the skin around his mouth felt almost raw. Then, gradually, they stopped, Drew shifting over enough for Steve to lie half beside him, half on his chest, their legs entwined.
“Will you be horribly offended if we don’t sleep together tonight?” Steve murmured into Drew’s shoulder.
Drew moved his hand up from its idle exploration of Steve’s back and ran it through his hair again. “Not at all.” If he’d wanted instant gratification, he’d have called one of his old flings.
This was better.
“Really?” Steve tilted his head enough to meet Drew’s eyes. Their faces were very close; Drew almost had to go cross-eyed to keep him in focus.
He was sure the angle was giving him a double chin, but at this point it was probably immaterial. “I would hate for you to judge me based on my performance after a long week of work, being stuck in traffic, stuffing myself, and running the legs off your dog.”
