Steve reminded himself it would be unprofessional to write Scotty taking off his shirt just because he wanted to see it again. He’d have to come up with a plot reason.
“What about you?”
Blinking, Steve rewound the last few seconds. He hadn’t said any of that out loud, right? “What about me what?”
“Why’d you write it? I mean, I assume you weren’t counting on this happening, and you’ve got to be familiar enough with Hollywood to know this wasn’t the most likely script to get picked up.”
“Oh. That.” Steve shrugged. “Same as you, really. I started writing the kind of movie I wanted to see. I’ve seen gay love stories and tragedies and dramas—not a lot, not big-budget productions, but they exist. I wanted something ridiculous.” And then he figured to hell with it and admitted a little more of the truth. “Plus I’d just broken up with my boyfriend, and I wasn’t going to come back from that with anything he thought he could see us in. Too much pride to give him the satisfaction.”
“Living well is the best revenge,” Drew quipped with a wry, dimpled smile. If he was surprised to have confirmation Steve was gay, he didn’t show it. Maybe Steve’s remark earlier in the day had sealed it. “Though having your first script picked up for production is a nice bonus.”
You have no idea.“When my ex finds out I’m acting opposite you he’s going to shit a Frisbee.” Steve allowed himself a blissful second to imagine the look on his face.
“Gee, I feel so used.”
“Yeah.” Steve sighed and made a face. “Me too. Hence the ex.” But he wasn’t going to vent his personal problems to a star who probably didn’t care.
He’d already made that mistake.
THEfollowing day Steve took a sort of working lunch with Nina, half getting directions and half talking out plot points. He could already tell work was going to be much easier when he wasn’t distracted by a yawing pit of hunger. He had thought Drew might join them. So far he hadn’t been shy about offering Steve “advice”—more like direction, but he was encouraging and not a jerk about it—and he seemed incredibly invested in what would happen with the story. The extra attention made Steve feel singled out in a good way, and he had to remind himself Drew’s interest was professional only. But Drew’s phone had rung, and he’d made an apologetic face and excused himself from their table.
“You’re the writer,” Nina said. “You know how Morgan is feeling in every scene.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah. Which is helpful for the acting, but sometimes now it’s giving me blinders when I try to switch into writing.”
“So don’t force it.” She waved a french fry at him. It had gone limp in the heat. “Talk with your costar. If you can’t get out of Morgan’s head, get some insight into Scotty’s. Drew can help you with blocking too—when to turn, when to fidget, how to account for the camera.”
Steve opened his mouth to answer, but something in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and he turned to look instead.
Two men were walking toward them carrying stacked boxes. Steve recognized the tan pants and shirt of a delivery service uniform on the guy on the left. But the guy on the right, easily lugging two cases of water, was Drew.
Nina followed his gaze and clucked. “He better not get his wardrobe dirty or Will is gonna have his ass.”
Will stood five seven and was one of the campiest men Steve had ever met, and he could suddenly see it with astonishing clarity. The mental image brought him up short, and he flushed.
“Oh, you know what I mean,” Nina huffed.
“What are they doing?” Steve asked, then immediately felt stupid. Clearly they were carting bottled water.
“Handcart broke,” the delivery guy said, obviously having overheard. “Gotta deliver it the old-fashioned way.”
Before the invention of the wheelwas a heck of a definition for old-fashioned.
“Can’t leave my coworkers thirsty.” Drew was close enough now for Steve to note the way his biceps strained the sleeves of his T-shirt.
Drew doing physical labor wasn’t lowering Steve’s thirst any. Maybe the opposite. His blood pressure was rising too.
“You just wanted one last chance to show off the muscles from that superhero movie before they atrophy,” Nina quipped. “Now quit distracting the talent.”
As Steve attempted to die of mortification, Drew grinned and shot Nina a wink. Then he sauntered off after the delivery guy, stopping every now and again so crew members could grab water.
Nina patted his arm. “You’ll get used to it.”
Somehow Steve doubted that.
Chapter Five
“WHATwas the most frustrating moment filmingHigh Water?”
