Chapter one
Dane
Itwasyetanothermeeting with the lighting director, as though they hadn’t gone through the plans for this setup a dozen times, and a dozen times at every single location beforehand. They were shooting thefifthepisode for Pine Point Fixer-Uppers, not the first, and there were only so many notes to be given on how to properly light a hotel meeting room. But Dane stood there all the same, putting on his most attentive face while his mind wandered.
He thought about the path to this job, and the lucky break that he happened to get when one of their normal grips had to skip out. He daydreamed about stumbling into some bigwig and somehow pitching them a script that they fell in love with. He thought about his collection of models back home, and which one he’d work on when this was all done—probably the MK-18 Sunrise Sword, so he could have an excuse to watch back through the show while he was putting it together. He thought about Krissy and hoped that she was still fine with him skipping out; he was paying what she would allow him to of the bills while he was gone, but it didn’t feel like enough.
And he thought about Aras. The main electrician for the show. He wasn’t in the room yet—none of the talent had arrived—but he would be soon. Dane had first spotted him when they pulled up at the house in Springfield and…well, there were just some guys who stole your breath. Aras had a sharp nose and sharper eyes, with dark hair and a slender build. Not as slim as Dane—he was too skinny, no matter how much time he put in trying to bulk up—but not ripped, either. Not in Dane’s imagination, anyway. He hadn’t gotten the privilege of catching Aras shirtless yet.
It had been alongtime since Dane had crushed so hard on someone. Probably not since high school. He’d worked the overnight shift at McDonald’s for two years and the most he got was a cute guy at the drive-through once or twice. None of his coworkers stood out to him inthatway. Same story when he got a job at the library for a bit, and when he started freelancing as a grip in the day and bartending at night.
The door to the meeting room swung open, snapping Dane out of his own thoughts. Eliza, the producer, and Vince, the director of photography, stepped in, followed by a couple cameras. Eliza looked around at everyone, smiling, then turned toward the lighting director. “Kyle? We all set?”
“Just about. You can start getting into position.” He scanned over everything around him, then snapped and pointed. To Dane. “Can you run out to the van and grab that extra softbox, and some clamps and armatures, so we have spares?” He tossed Dane the keys, then turned back to Eliza. “I don’t know if we’ll need them, but better safe than sorry.”
That was apparently all Dane was going to get, so he shimmied through the crowd and out into the hotel proper. It was a nice place, that was for damn sure. Hands down the swankiest they’d stayed in so far. The floor was tiled in pale stone, and tall mirrors stretched up along the walls. Windows looked out onto the busy streets of downtown Baltimore. The job site was actually in the suburbs, but this was where they’d decided to hole up.
He passed through the revolving door out to the sidewalk, then jogged toward the parking garage. They’d made a deal with the hotel, at least, so they got to park up on the top level for easy access, which meant he only had to go a little ways in, down the ramp, and to the little cluster of vans and SUVs they’d picked up at the rental place. It took Dane a few seconds to locate the correct van—there were three white panel vans parked next to each other—but once he did, he unlocked the back and started rummaging through the spare equipment. The softbox was the biggest annoyance, as it made it difficult to juggle everything else. He tried slipping it under one arm, but it wasn’t secure, and he couldn’t very well wedge the extra armature into his armpits safely.
“Need a hand?”
Dane turned, ashamed that he recognized the sharp voice. He saw Aras standing there, hands on his hips, one dark eyebrow raised. He had on a simple white T-shirt with a dark red corduroy button-down thrown over the top, and khakis that clung to his thighs, showing off his leg muscles and…well, Dane didn’t let his eyes linger on Aras’s crotch. Not while he was under direct observation. He still hadsomedecorum left in his body.
“Earth to redheaded little lighting grip?” Aras waved his hand in front of Dane’s face.
Dane shook his head. “Sorry. Tired.” A lie. Total lie. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a lot of crap to carry back. If you want to. You don’t need to. I could get one of the other guys—”
“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have wasted my breath.” He grabbed the softbox from Dane, their fingers briefly rubbing against each other. “This good?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” Dane quickly grabbed the little plastic bag of clamps, then hefted up the extra armature pieces. “Are you just getting in?”
Aras nodded as the two of them headed back up the ramp to the street. “Ozzy and Evander werebusy,so we’re running later than usual.”
“I heard that!” Ozzy jogged up. He was white, but tanned from all his work outdoors, and wearing a white tank top and cargo pants. He rapped Aras on the side of the head. “Don’t gossip about me.”
“Don’t fuck your boyfriend so long you make me late.” He elbowed Ozzy in the abdomen—lightly, not enough to hurt him—and pulled in closer to Dane. “I can gossip about whoever I want, with whoever I want. And if you don’t can it, I’m telling Dane here all about that weekend in Port Angeles.”
Ozzy rolled his eyes. “You’d be more pleasant if you got laid.”
“No I wouldn’t.” Aras looked over at Dane. “You lead the way. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Dane nodded and happily put a little distance between the two of them. He could feel himself flushing hot across his cheeks and ears justthinkingabout Aras having sex. No need for anyone to see him turning red. Especially not Aras.
Chapter two
Aras
Arasmostlystayedoutof the way, waiting with the rest of the crew while production got everything set up inside the meeting room. Ozzy and Evander were off getting coffee. Mason, a husky guy with a sweep of bronze hair, fiddled on his phone, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Jake was muscular and tall, and when he caught Aras’s eye, he grinned and winked. Robinson paced slowly, arms stretched up with his hands clasped behind his buzz cut head. He stared at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought, but never once tripped or stumbled.
Bunny sidled up next to Aras and leaned against the wall. She was a bit shorter than him, with dark skin and tight curls currently pulled up into two puffballs on the back of her head. “Anyone ever told you it takes more muscles to frown?”
“Every day of my life.” He neverintendedto frown or scowl. He just had a terminal case of resting bitch face. “There’s a reason I don’t have any wrinkles. Keeps the muscle tone up.” He tilted his head to the side to look at her a little more directly. “Any reason I should waste the energy to smile?”
Bunny shrugged. “We’re in Baltimore. I’ve never been before. Seems nice. New job. No one’s been fighting lately.”
That was at least true. Their first two jobs since they started filming the show had been…tumultuous. Jake and Ozzy got into a fistfight, then Ozzy and Evander somehow got their on-again, off-again relationship back on-again. It was holding for the moment, but that didn’t make them any less chaotic than usual. Still, they’d had two jobs—a ranch house in Ohio and a two-story with a flooded basement in Vermont—where things had gone smoothly. And that Vermont job had been hell on Aras. The water damage had done a number on the wiring, and he was the crew’s electrician.
The door opened and half a dozen members of the production crew filed out, which meant talking time was over. Mason popped to his feet and Robinson turned from pacing to walking in. He offered Aras a tight smile on the way past.
