Page 108 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Even Steele’s toothpick went loose in his mouth.

It wasn’t loud, barely more than the first syllable of a name that didn’t belong in the scene.

Xander froze over Wyatt Stanis with one hand braced on the pillow, the other gripping the sheet.

The warm lights overhead highlighted the dark flush climbing his throat. Wyatt stared up at him, confused for half a second, before he tried to lean back in for another kiss.

Xander recovered badly.

“A-Arthur,” he stammered, trying to bend the word into place. “Arthur, I…”

“Cut,” the director yelled.

Xander scrambled off Wyatt as if the bed was on fire. His face was beet red, eyes wide with the kind of mortification that made everyone look at him with pity.

Elliot hurried over with Xander’s robe.

He took it with both hands and pulled it around himself. He tied it with jerky movements as he muttered something to Rena, then hurried toward his trailer with his head down.

Ruxs and Green rushed after him, falling into their protective positions as Xander crossed the stage. Ruxs took the outer lane, while Green covered the rear.

Shock had Cassidy still pinned in place.

“Morrison,” God muttered.

Cassidy blinked before his body caught up, and he began crossing the stage.

Ruxs was already at the tail end of the trailer when Cassidy reached it and Green was standing on the opposite side of the door, arms folded.

Ruxs threw him a shit-eating grin that made him want to slap it off. But he needed to get to Xander.

Cassidy jogged up the three steps and tapped on the door.

When he got no answer, he went inside and closed the door behind him, leaving Ruxs and Green on point outside.

The trailer smelled like wardrobe steam, expensive soap, and Xander.

The small space was dark with the blinds half drawn, the vanity lights muted around a mirror cluttered with makeup brushes, bottled water, tissues, marked script pages, and a half-eaten plate of fruit.

Xander stood near the far counter with his back to the door, robe wrapped tight around him, with one hand covering his face.

Cassidy locked the door.

For a second, he said nothing.

He crossed the space slowly, not stopping until his chest was against Xander’s back. “Lane.”

Xander made a small, strangled sound. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“You slipped.”

“I said your name in the middle of a scene. A sex scene.”

“I know.”

Xander

Xander didn't understand why his mind had betrayed him so violently, but the truth was he’d been fantasizing about Cassidy all day.