Grayson mutters his assent.
“Good. Today is going to involve a lot more stopping and starting than yesterday so we can adjust lighting and sound and wardrobe as needed, so please be patient with us.” She takes one of each of our hands in hers. “And please, for the love of all that is holy, if you forget everything else today, remember this.”
I wait for her to bestow some life-changing acting wisdom upon us.
“Your characters like each other. So for today, you need to like each other.” She gives my hand an extra squeeze before heading back to her chair. “All right, everyone, let’s take places.”
We shoot our entrance into the room in one take—the first time we’ve gotten anything done that quickly throughout the entirety of filming so far. Because, of course, we’re suddenly able to manage the one thing standing between us and getting naked.
Before I’m fully ready, we’re back in front of the fire, mere feet from the bed. I do my best to erase my total disdain for Grayson from my face, and honestly, once he’s in my space and his hands are on me, I don’t have to try very hard. It’s like his touch completely wipes out all myrational bordering-on-hatred feelings toward him, which is as annoying as it is arousing.
Our eyes meet for a half second, and there’s a question in his, like he needs me to be okay with what’s going to happen between us during the next few hours. I don’t have time to give him a real answer—or even figure out one in my head—before our lips meet and my body once again feels like it’s been drenched in lava.
His mouth is even more gentle today—at least, that is, until I dig my fingers into his hips. He lets out a nearly silent grunt, but I feel the vibration of it as his lips move against mine, his pressure increasing as my fingers tighten.
We kiss for longer than needed, and I give myself over to it. Fuck the mantras. Today I’m letting myself feel it because focusing on the pleasure of Grayson’s kiss, of his hands, of his body pressed against mine, might be the only way I get through this without completely losing it. It basically goes against everything Clare instilled in us yesterday, which was to focus on the process and procedure of it all, but I don’t really care.
Grayson walks me back toward the bed, and when we hit our mark, Liz calls for us to pause.
We part. Breathless. Grayson’s cheeks are flushed, and I can tell by the heat I feel that mine are, too. His pupils are completely dilated. So if nothing else, I know his body is as into this as mine is, whether his brain is on board or not.
The few remaining crew members bustle around, measuring lighting and adjusting booms. Sam comes over totouch up my makeup, his eyes wide and his mouth tight like he’s holding back a grin.
And strangely enough, we don’t break our position. Grayson’s arms are still wrapped around my waist, while mine stay fisted in his flannel shirt. Hardly any space separates us and yet, after Sam heads off, Grayson lowers his head so his question stays between us. “Are you okay?”
I don’t think I can form words, so I nod. The movement causes my lips to graze the golden beard covering his chin, and I have to fight the urge to nibble my way along his chiseled jaw.
He pulls out of the embrace, just enough to be able to look me in the eye. “I promise that you can trust me with this, Emmy.”
And despite everything, I believe him. I wasn’t lying just then when I said I was okay, but I realize that added reassurance was exactly what I needed.
Because despite the intensity of the kiss we just shared, we’re still about to take off our clothes on camera. We’re about to touch each other, move with each other, feel each other in the most intimate of ways, pretend or not. I’m about to be more vulnerable with Grayson fucking West than I’ve been with my last five boyfriends. Combined.
“You can trust me, too.” And despite everything, I mean it. I lean in just the slightest bit. Our height difference means he can rest his chin on the top of my head, which he does. But first he brushes a single kiss across my forehead. And my heart pitter-pats.
“Okay, we’re ready to move on,” Liz calls from her perch behind the monitor. “Action when you’re ready.”
Grayson doesn’t hesitate. He takes my face in his handsand kisses me once again, slowly and gently. My fingers find their way to the buttons of his flannel shirt.
I break the kiss to deliver one of my few lines. “Is this okay?”
“God, yes,” Grayson says as Josh. He helps me shuck off his shirt.
My hands come to rest on his bare chest. I’m surprised by the smattering of golden hair spread across his pecs and down the center of his ridiculous abs. I had him pegged for a waxer, but I’m delighted by the tickle of his hair on my palms. He sucks in a breath as my hands trace the edges of each of his cut muscles, and I don’t know if he’s reacting as Grayson or as Josh. I find that I don’t care.
Grayson’s hands skim the bottom hem of my sweater. “Is this okay?”
“Fuck, yes.” My response is most definitely Isobel’s, although I certainly share the sentiment.
Grayson lifts the soft cotton over my head, tossing it off to the side. He steps back for a moment, his eyes lingering on my chest, wrapped up in periwinkle lace thanks to the wardrobe department.
And it’s a strange sensation. Because I know exactly what he is going to do, what he is going to say, what move comes next. But the heat in his eyes and the small curve of his smile catch me off guard.
He pulls me into his arms, and his hands snake around my back to unhook my bra. It’s attached with Velcro so it comes apart easily, the familiar sound to be removed in post. I let the straps slide down my arms before I toss it off to the side.
Grayson swallows thickly, giving me an appreciativeonce-over before he pulls me into his embrace. And holy fuck. My nipples graze his chest, and a jolt of electricity shoots through me. My gasp is unplanned, and he swallows it like he’s hungry for more. He lowers me gently to the bed, our bodies staying pressed close together. He holds his weight off me until I wrap my arms around the taut muscles of his back and pull him down.
“Okay, we’re going to cut here for wardrobe adjustments.” Liz’s voice shocks me back into reality.
