“Bullshit.” Aras stared down at him, unblinking. “You just got done telling me that this is an opportunity to get where youactuallywant to be.” Which was apparently a writer? A director? They’d never discussed it, but it fit everything he knew about Dane’s personality.”
“But it’s not a sure thing.”
“Neither are we.” Aras hated the way that tasted in his mouth, like soot and battery acid. “Nothing is sure and everything is a gamble. Gamble on yourself.”
Dane looked up at the ceiling and blew out a long breath, cheeks puffing. “What if I’d rather gamble on us.”
“Not mutually exclusive. You can gamble on the jobandon a long distance relationship.” Aras reached across, controlling the shaking in his hand, and grabbed Dane’s fingers. Tight. “I have a phone. And they have this incredible technology where you can see each other on video. Pictures canflythrough the air to each other.” He rubbed his other hand over Dane’s knuckles. Then he pulled the two of them closer together so their foreheads pressed against each other. Aras lowered his voice. “If we were ever going to be anything serious, we’d have to get over the hurdle of being apart at some point. Even if we didn’t live in different states, you wouldn’t want to be one of those couples who are surgically attached to each other at all hours, right?”
“Maybe.” But there was a slight change in his tone. A bit more measured, softer. “We could just hide under the blankets here and never leave, see how it goes.”
“I thought hiding from problems was my domain.” But Aras leaned back, taking Dane with him, then grabbed the edge of the blanket. It was tucked in at the foot of the bed still, but a couple hard yanks and he managed to release it, then cover themselves fully. The air inside immediately heated, growing more humid as their breaths mingled and filled the space. Aras pressed his lips to Dane’s forehead. “Is this what you were looking for.”
“Exactly. Just never move and then we don’t have to do anything scary.”
Aras reached a hand up and brushed Dane’s hair back, relishing in the softness to his touch. “Nothing scary? That doesn’t sound very exciting.”
“It’s not.” Dane moved closer, wrapping his arms around Aras and pulling in closer. There was no space left between them, yet Aras felt no flush of lust through his body. Simply closeness. Dane kissed him softly. Once. Twice. The third time, a bit longer. When he pulled out of it, he stayed close enough that every movement of his mouth still brushed their lips together. “I feel like I should apologize. I know you didn’t want this, and I pushed so hard for us to start doing this couple thing. Now I’m trying to pull the rug out from under us.”
“Well you’re wrong. Or you weren’t paying attention to all my panic and freaking out.” Aras kissed him that time. “I absolutely wanted this. I just didn’t think it was wise. But now that we’re in it, I’m in it. As long as you’ll have me.”
Dane breathed out firmly, and Aras didn’t even mind that his breath smelled vaguely of licorice and citrus as it washed over his face. “So I should touch base with the higher ups, shouldn’t I?”
Aras wrapped his arms around Dane, firmly cocooning them together. “Tomorrow morning. No business in the blanket fort.” Plus, Aras didn’t want this moment to end. Everything was going to end soon enough.
Aras would try…but he knew this was the end of what they had.
Chapter thirty-one
Dane
Elizahadclearedoutthe hair and makeup trailer so Dane could have the space for his meeting. Kyle was with him, staring at the screen as they waited for the video call to connect. He patted Dane on the shoulder. “It’s a formality. Relax. You’ve got this job.”
“Right.” Dane didn’t believe that, but it wasn’t even the main issue. Aras had stayed close to him the whole day, after they fell asleep holding each other the night before. Right up until it was time for the meeting. It made things worse. He was giving this up to basically go work as a grip on another job. Why did any of them think this was a step forward? Why didhethink that? Production crew got shuffled all the time. It was nice that Kyle thought ofhimto recommend to someone else, but it wasn’t significant in any way.
He shoved all that aside. He’d had the argument with himself a dozen times, and it always just restarted again at the beginning. He knew, objectively, that this was a good chance. Just having his name singled out in this way would be a step forward. If he did well, then this lighting director might remember him, and maybe Eliza. A billion snowflakes were an avalanche. It was a start…he just hated it.
The screen lit up in bright white, then a face clarified as the camera adjusted. A middle-aged Hispanic woman looked at him, then smiled. “Sorry about that. Computer was being a dick. Program made me update before it would work.” She waved. “Kyle. Been a minute.”
“Hey, Cece.” He gestured toward Dane. “This is the grip I was telling you about.”
“Dane. Hi. I’m Cecelia Gutierrez. I hear you’re good, and I’m hoping I’m not throwing your life into too much chaos, trying to get you on this job.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” A lie, but a polite lie, the kind you had to tell to people in a business situation. “I’m just thankful I got mentioned.”
“It’s all been lucky,” said Kyle. “We needed him to fill in a spot that suddenly got vacated, and I couldn’t be happier with his performance.”
“Hey, I don’t need selling on him. Your word’s good enough for me.” She fixed her gaze forward, and although she wasn’t staring directly into the camera, so hence not directly at Dane, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of examination behind it. “I just need to know what terms we’re looking at. I know you have a contract here, and a schedule to keep to. Since the new show is only filming in Atlanta, at least for this season, unless you live there, you’re going to be away from home even longer.”
Dane tried to wrap his head around it, but whether because of his own lack of focus, or some lack of clarity in her words, he couldn’t quite manage to figure out what he was supposed to glean from this. “I’m sorry for being dense, but what information are you looking for from me?”
“It’s weighing the cost we’d have to lay out to make it worthwhile to you, versus what we can afford to swing into this.” She didn’t hesitate or obfuscate at all. At least, not in any way that Dane could pick up on. “If helping make this worth the change for you is less expensive than hiring on someone new, then I have the go-ahead to go with you. Bigwigs would like to keep this as in-house as possible as long as it’s cost effective. But don’t let that influence you.”
On the list of things influencing Dane’s decision, that was at the bottom. Hell, it wasn’t even on the list, if he was being totally for real. “I could probably talk to my roommate. As long as I’m keeping up my end of the rent, or finding someone she’s good with subletting my half to, that should be fine.”
“How much are we talking?”
“You’re not going to cover it.” Dane didn’t say it with accusation, just a fact. “I live in Chicago. Even splitting rent, it’s not cheap.”
