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“Ah, Mae.” I collapse on top of her. Showering her with kisses. “That’s because we’re meant to be together, my love.”
We roll our hips in unison. Lazily, now. In this moment, I savor feeling her tight, wet heat around me. I don’t want this to end anytime soon. My arms wind around her so there’s no air between our bodies. Like we’ve been absorbed into one being. We move together for what seems like hours until my cock can’t take it anymore. I roll us to our sides. Keeping her hip hitched up on mine so I don’t slip out.
My release floods her. Exhausted, Ronni falls asleep straightaway, tucked against me as I still pulse inside her
I love her. It’s simple, but true.
I already knew I’d traverse oceans for her.
I guess pretending I’m an actor will be slightly less difficult.
Maybe I'll give it a go.
I cannot believeI talked him into it.
I also can't believe howimpressivehe is.
Years of acting lessons. Decades of being on set. Blocking. Rehearsing. Table reads. It's like breathing to me now, but it tookso long.
My husband? An absolute natural. Positively riveting on screen. The camera adores him. The way he effortlessly delivers lines with just precise timing has everyone on set swooning.
I'mswooning.
He is, after all, a world-famous rockstar. A great performer. Not as showy as Ty or Zane, but he holds his own. He belts out the backing vocals. Engages the crowd. All while maintaining the pulse of the band. Zane relies on Connor to keep him grounded. Jace and Connor have been a rhythm section for so long, they’re essentially telepathic. As for Ty? Connor gives him stability.
Who knew these skills would translate so well. He’s a natural actor. That’s the truth of it.
The premise of our dramedy is simple: a woman is in a loveless marriage with a doctor who expects her to be a perfect wife and mother. She embodies the role for years but finds out he’s leaving her for one of his residents at the hospital. On the day her divorce is finalized, her best friend challenges her to date diverse types of men before getting serious again. They call the challenge,TheEssentialHunkList, which is also the name of the show.’
It’s been grueling, even now that I have Paxton helping me. Most days, I feel like I’m an imposter. Sometimes, I’m so over my head there are no words to describe it. What’s surprising, though, is being behind the camera is more appealing than being in front of it. As a performer, especially as a woman, there’s so much pressure to look a certain way. Be a certain weight. Stay young.
Still, this entire experience has me conflicted. Is missing time with my family worth any of it?
I’m so ready to be done. It’s excruciating feeling like a third wheel in my own family. Connor and Yolanda are, essentially, parenting my kids. They feed them. Read to them. Clean up after them. Do the laundry. She keeps “forgetting” to include me in texts about the boys. When I have rare free time to spend with my sons, she leaves me lists tellingmewhat their schedule is and how to do this and that with my own sons.
God, it pisses me off.
I can’t risk losing her at this time, so I say nothing. She’s fantastic with the kids. Connor likes her. He needs help and I’m not available. It took so long to find a quality nanny like Yolanda, I won’t let my own insecurities mess up the status quo.
It’s not forever. I can suck it up. Ignore she’s demonstrably friendly with Connor and chilly with me. Disregard my feelings of unworthiness as a mother. Pay no attention to the times when the boys reach for Yolanda and not me. Push down my feelings of jealousy at the amount of time she spends with my kids. My husband.
Connor’s not a cheater, thank God. Still…
Crap. I’m making things up in my head. It’s guilt. The bottom line is—I’m just not there for my family and Yolanda is. I’m gone for twelve to sixteen hours a day. I’ve made this choice and it’s eating me alive.
Conversely, Connor is his amazing, supportive self. Assuring me this is all just temporary. Complimenting me on my ability to multitask. Convincing me he’s grateful to have bonding time with his sons. Confirming he’s taken over all decisions about Tristan and Torin so I can focus on work.
His words, not mine.
To think my plan was to star in the series as well as produce it. Fate had different plans. The reason I’m not on camera is because the Netflix executives told Kris—given the expedited schedule we’re on—I didn’t have time to get my body into the shape they expected. It hurt to hear. It always does. Things don’t change, though. This industry is brutal on a woman’s self-esteem. How could I argue, though? The reality is my bodyhasn’tfully bounced back yet.
How could it?
At the end of the day, I’m choosing to look at it as a blessing in disguise. If I had to memorize lines and act, well—there’s just no way. I’m not even hanging on as it is.
I recast the part with a long-time friend of mine, Clover Callahan, whom I met on the set ofHawaiian High. In the years since, she’s had a couple of pop hits. Been through a horrific divorce, complete with cheating scandal. Though she hasn’t acted in over a decade, Clover is fantastic. Regardless of how the show is received, I think she’ll have many compelling opportunities after this.
Connor agreeing to play the first “hunk” means we’ll stay on schedule. His role as a tall, muscular construction guy suits him to a “T.” Ironically, he’s the last of the hunks to film this season. We’re at the end of the shoot. Once Connor’s scenes are filmed, we’ll wrap.
