“So there’s some other reason you’ve been putting off having sex with me?” He’d brushed Drew off the night before, and now Drew waswearing a towel, and yet no sexy touching. They should still be in the sex-at-every-opportunity phase, but here they were. Separated by a towel and Steve’s hangup, whatever it was.
Steve winced like he hadn’t thought he’d get caught. Surely he hadn’t thought Drew wouldn’t notice he was avoiding intimacy. “It’s not what you think.”
Drew fought the urge to throw his hands in the air. “That seems pretty likely, since I have no idea what to think.”
“Fine.Fine.I—” Steve took two steps to his left and ran both hands through his hair. “My parents raised me in the middle of nowhere. They wanted me to be my own person. It’s why I have a different last name. And I am. Every important decision I’ve made in my life, I’ve made it because it’s what I wanted.”
Drew held tight to the fraying ends of his patience. “None of this is news to me.”
Steve dropped into the chair. “I’m getting to the point, I promise. It just sounds really stupid when I say it out loud and I don’t want to.”
Despite everything, Drew melted a little. “Steve. I literally just confessed to being jealous the tabloids are talking about you more than me. You don’t exactly have the market cornered on irrational.”
Steve dredged up part of a smile. “My parents always believed in me. But when I got to LA, I was nobody. I had to earn everything. Every new person who put their trust in my skills was a triumph. Proof I was good enough to live up to my parents’ legacy.”
Oh. Drew could sort of see where this was going.
“When Hilary told me my script got picked up for production, I didn’t think much about the people behind it. I was too excited. It was enough that someone thought it was worth investing in.”
“Steve.” Drew licked his lips, considering his words. “I’d never even met you. I definitely didn’t know who your parents were.”
Steve shook his head, staring at the generic abstract print on the wall behind Drew. “I thought, ‘The producer likes my movie. They approve of all the new scenes and rewrites. I must be doing something right if this person I’ve never met is willing to throw their money into this script.’”
“I do approve,” Drew said earnestly. He leaned forward. The towel gaped a little more, but he ignored it. “I think it’s different and interesting and funny and sharp.”
“I know that. I do. Really. But part of me keeps insisting you don’t count.”
It was gently said, but the words still stung. Long years of practice schooling his features let Drew absorb that pain without showing it. “Why not?”
Steve lifted one shoulder and met Drew’s eyes for the first time in what felt like days. “Because you’re in love with me.”
For an eternity, Drew could say nothing. Steve had him dead to rights. At least he looked happier than he had a few minutes before. Finally Drew managed, “Traditionally I think you’re supposed to wait for me to tell you.”
Steve’s smile grew a fraction of an inch. “Sorry I went off script. But you were taking too long, and it was relevant.”
Drew plucked at the edge of his towel, caught himself, and tucked his hand under his thigh. “No, I get your point. By not telling you I was the producer, I undermined your confidence in yourself when you found out.” He grimaced. “And the other thing… I was maybe being chickenshit about it. I’ve never said it to anyone before, you know.”
Steve shrank a little. “I didn’t mean to steal your thunder.”
“It’s okay. There will be lots of other opportunities for me to make dramatic declarations.” He felt a little cheated somehow, like the universe owed him one perfect moment to pay him back for all the times he’d acted in perfectly scripted ones. But the world didn’t work like that.
Or maybe it did. “Take two?” Steve suggested, the corners of his mouth lifting optimistically.
Drew couldn’t help but smile back. “Why not?”
To his surprise, Steve went as far as stepping out into the hallway. When he came back in, his face was carefully neutral, washed clean of the emotional leftovers of their conversation. “Hey. Nice towel.”
Drew stifled a laugh. “Thanks.”
Steve nodded earnestly. “You’re welcome. By the way, I’ve been avoiding intimacy with you because I’m upset you didn’t tell me you were the producer and because I’m having related self-confidence issues that aren’t really your fault.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And that I inadvertently caused you to doubt yourself.” And then, in the spirit of the conversation, he dutifully added, “Since we’re confessing, I’ve had my panties in a knot all day because my ego is fragile and you’re getting more publicity than I am right now. Also, I’m in love with you.”
Steve did a poor job hiding his delight. “Is that related to the panties thing, or is it a separate issue?”
This time Drew didn’t bother trying not to laugh. “Come over here and find out.”
Steve stalked over, crawled on his knees onto the bed, and straddled Drew’s legs. “Hmm.” He reached for the edge of the towel and met Drew’s eyes.
