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I realized I'd been standing there dumbly gripping his tie, not wanting to let him go.
I shook my head and fought back tears. "It's fine. You look…" I examined him from head to toe. "You look amazing. Really, all the women across the United States are going to wish they were Gwen."
I certainly did.
He checked his reflection in the mirror, and then he pulled out a photo from the suit bag. It was a photo of himself from the original taping months earlier. He wore the exact same suit, same tie and everything. But my eyes stopped on his hair.
"We did something wrong," I said.
"What?"
"Your hair. You can't do the Treven style." I pointed at the picture, at his hair which was done in his usual messy pulled-forward-and-to-the-side style.
"Oh, I see." He made a face as though trying to solve a problem. "I'm going to have to get my hair wet and start all over."
It didn't seem like too big of an issue, he was a guy after all. It wouldn’t take forever to dry his hair or anything.
But when he started taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, my eyes widened.
"What are you doing?"
He stopped at the last button and shrugged. "I don't want to get my shirt wet."
"Oh, right. I, uh…" I looked up to avoid gaping at his sculpted torso. "Okay. Yeah, just…uh…here, let me hold them for you."
He slipped out of his shirt and set them in my outstretched arms. Man, did he look good. Seeing him shirtless in real life was way more overwhelming that seeing him like that on TV. He was tanned and toned. He was a man with a Twitter account dedicated to his abs of steel. And I was the woman who wanted to own that account.
I swallowed the huge lump in my throat as I watched him bend his head under the tub faucet, his back and shoulder muscles flexing.
I had to look away to catch my breath. When he turned off the water, I handed him a towel so his wet hair wouldn't drip onto his nice navy-blue suit pants.
While he was drying himself off, his biceps caught my gaze with the movement and my whole body heated up. Drew began working on his hair, styling it as it was in the photo.
I needed to think of something to say before he could sense how badly I wanted to run my hands all over his naked torso. So I said the first thing that came to my mind. "I'm sure Gwen will be happy to hear that those Friday night pizzas haven't taken away the physique you had during filming."
I cringed, realizing how much more awkward my comment had made things.
Drew glanced down at himself. "Thanks?"
"Sorry, that was weird. I'm, uh, I guess I'm not used to being around you like this. Maybe I should go back into the other room."
Drew stopped for a second. "I'm almost done. I'll put my shirt back on in just a minute."
Once he was finished, he checked the photo, and we both agreed that it looked almost the same. At least, it was hard for us to tell the difference. If some fan noticed, they were watching the show for the wrong reasons.
I checked the time on my watch. Only half an hour left until he had to leave. Thirty more minutes.
I needed to tell him how I felt. I needed to just say the words.
But every time I tried, my tongue got all tied up and nothing would come out.
"Are you ready for this?" I finally asked when he'd finished tying his tie.
"I guess so. I still haven't come up with what I'm going to say, though. That's probably going to be a problem."
"Wanna give it another try?"
He nodded, and we went back to the table. This time, Drew picked up the pen.
