“Careful you don’t smudge your makeup when you put that on.” Nina patted him on the shoulder as he slid his shirt off. “So let’s talk about this scene. Morgan, Scotty convinced you yesterday to road-trip to Vegas to pick up your brother’s dog from his ex-girlfriend’s new place. But when you show up to get him….”
“I didwritethe scene,” Steve pointed out, getting ready to pull his polo on over his undershirt.
Nina fixed him with a deadpan look.
Steve paused and made an apologetic face. “Sorry. Carry on.”
“Thank you. Although point taken. Mel, Adam—Morgan’s face when the door opens is key to setting the tone for the rest of the movie. I need you to get it on the first shot, or we’re going to have to have Drew strip naked.”
“Hey!” Steve protested. Drew and Nina looked at him, and he shrugged. “Give me some credit. I’m an amateur, but I think I can fake attraction to—” He gestured to Drew.
Fake?Damn. But, well, it wasn’t like Drew dated anyway. “Ouch.” He pressed a hand to his chest.
“Check your ego,” Nina admonished. “Not everyone wants to see you in the buff. Now let’s get this set up. Where’s that extra?”
“Here!” Another guy, also wearing a robe from Wardrobe that wouldn’t make it into the film, slipped past them onto the set.
“Good.” Nina shooed Drew toward the other side of the door. “Don’t forget your lines. And you.” She turned to Steve. “Remember: you’re gay.”
Drew met Steve’s eyes over the top of Nina’s head. He looked baffled. “Thanks for reminding me?”
Nina opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say and muttered under her breath instead. “The two of you, I swear to God. I came out of retirement for this.” Then she clapped her hands. “Let’s go! We’re wasting daylight.”
The cameras set up their shots, the door closed, and the Wardrobe assistant came by with Steve’s shirt on a hanger, collected for continuity, and to check Drew’s wardrobe tape. “Good to go,” she chirped, and then she was gone, taking their bathrobes with her.
Drew and the extra found their marks—Drew a few feet from the door, his character’s flavor of the evening just visible through the doorway to the bedroom. Scotty was a slob with a dive apartment, but that didn’t stop him from bringing his pickups home.
“Action!”
Drew counted to ten after he heard the knock. Scotty would have just woken up; he’d be bleary and come-dumb and not particularly motivated by someone pounding on his door—even if that someone was his best friend’s brother coming to pick him up. Even if Scotty was late.
“Scotty! Come on, are you home? If we don’t leave, we’re going to hit—”
Drew opened the door, rubbing his face with the back of his other hand before running his fingers through his hair. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet Steve’s.
Except he didn’t. Because Steve was standing frozen, hand still raised like he was going to keep pounding on the door, his gaze fixed on Drew’s tiny black boxer briefs. Then on his stomach. Then his bare chest.
Either Steve was a better actor than anyone had given him credit for, or he’d forgotten his line.
Fortunately Drew was a professional, and he kept any recognition of the stare out of his expression and body language. Scotty would be too fuzzy to notice.
Finally Steve recovered. “—traffic.” Then he frowned as the extra started making noise in the bedroom. “Did you—really? You’re late for your own dog rescue party because you were getting laid?” His nostrils flared and he recoiled. “Are youdrunk?”
Drew blinked lethargically, then squinted when Steve moved and the light shone in his eyes. “Lemme get my sunglasses.”
Chapter Four
FILMINGthose two scenes took an entire day. Steve knew it would—he’d been on a lot of sets—but he didn’t realize how greasy and exhausted andhungrythe acting side of things would make him.
“All right, I knew it wasn’t all glitter and glamor,” Steve said, sitting bonelessly in the makeup chair while he scrubbed the makeup off. “I didn’t know I’d be this tired.”
Drew laughed softly from the next chair. “It’s not always like this. Compressed filming schedule with a small cast means long days.”
“At least you get to go home and sleep.” Steve studied his reflection. He thought he’d gotten it all, but it was hard to tell. “Some of us still have a script to write.”
“I’m not doing anything until I eat.”
Steve’s stomach growled. “Yeah, good point. Ugh, I need groceries.”
