by T Gephart
“Invite him over,” Luke whispered, giving me a pointed look. “Scully and I want to be able to stare at him too.”
“Actually, how would you like to come over to my place tonight?” My voice rose, sounding more on edge than I would have liked. “Seems only fair since I know where you live.”
Also, if we had an audience there was less chance of dry humping on the couch and actually having a conversation. Like the one where he told me why he’d been up late.
“We can do that,” Nick answered. “Let me know what time to be there and your address.”
“Great. Okay. I’ll send you the details. Talk soon,” I rapidly fired, the conversation feeling like a piece of hot coal I was struggling to hold.
“Bye, Claire. See you tonight.” Nick laughed and ended the call.
Luke shook his head, using the edge of the napkin to dab his mouth. “Claire, I don’t know what the hell you think you were doing, but that was a hot mess. I’ve seen you with men before, I know you can do better.”
“Ugh, I know.” My head fell into my hands. “I was fine and then turned into a disaster, what is it about him that makes the wheels fall off my wagon?”
Luke shot me a glance. “Are we going down the list or is this more you thinking out loud?”
“Oh stop,” I waved him off, “I’ve got to get home and find my game.”
“Yeah, I should get back to work too. I’ve got a few vendors I need to check in with and a production meeting this afternoon.” Luke checked his watch before pulling out a money clip. “Lunch is on me, but I have to run.”
Leaving half the food on his plate unconsumed, he finished his margarita and left cash on the table.
“Great, now I look like a hooker.” I mock sighed, wiping away the fake tears from my eyes as I clasped my hands dramatically to my chest. “Because I didn’t have enough self-esteem issues today.”
Luke could barely contain his grin, walking around to my side of the table and leaned down to give me a hug. “We both know that if you were a hooker, Claire, there’s no way I’d be able to afford you. Enjoy the rest of your day and check in with me later if you need a kick in the ass.”
My arms wrapped around him, giving him a quick hug back. “Yeah, yeah. Go back to work,” I groaned, waving to him as he left the bar.
I looked back down at my plate, picking up my fork and continued to eat. After I finished I would head home, go through the new script, text Nick, decide on what I was going to cook for dinner, and then think more about what possibly could have kept Nick up all night.
It seemed to me that I had quite the schedule for the day.
AUDREY RYDELL WAS A WRITER’S assistant on The Blue Line, the show Nick was currently starring in. A hungry thirty-two-year-old, she was not only gorgeous—I looked her up online—but incredibly smart. And judging by what I found on the web, she was earmarked to co-write some episodes next season. The showrunners even bragged about how talented she was, giving her high praise I’d have killed for.
Not sure if it made it worse or better knowing that praise was earned, the talent they spoke of, staring me in the face. What I had failed to realize when leaving Marconi’s office was that my next read was going to be an original work from Mrs. Audrey Rydell.
And yes, she was married, which only made the situation slightly better. Her French model husband was hot by anyone’s standard, and she seemed like she had it all. Which meant my earlier suspicion about her wanting Nick was clearly wrong, or at least I hoped it was. She couldn’t be talented, beautiful, with an amazing husband and get Nick. That shit would surely not be fair.
Fending off further jealousy of everything she had that I didn’t, I turned my attention to her screenplay.
I couldn’t have hated her even if I’d wanted.
It was cleverly written, brilliantly paced and had a great hook. I’d literally been unable to put it down. And even if I delved into the bitchiest, meanest, most vindictive part of my heart, there was no way I could find fault.
Thank God, hers hadn’t been the first screenplay I’d read.
Weird that I’d had preferred to suffer through the last one, taking comfort that as bad as I was, I wasn’t that bad. It had given me time to find my rhythm, and for me to find the love in what I did. It had been missing and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get it back. And now that my mojo was back, and I was confronted with her brilliance, I didn’t automatically want to go drown myself in a tub of double choc-chip and apply for a McDonald’s drive thru job.
But now, well it just made me want my own success more.
I was as capable, as talented, and as hungry as Audrey or anyone else. There was no reason why I couldn’t have what she had.
No, fuck that.
I didn’t want what she had; my destiny was epic-level awesome and there for the taking. I just had to reach out and grab it.
The rest of the afternoon was great. I managed to clean the house and shop for groceries and still made it back before Luke and Scully got home from work. The concern that clouded my mind of Nick’s late night hadn’t been resolved, but I was excited to introduce him to my friends.
That, and I got to see him again. Because even though I was feeling happier and more confident, I was still sort of lame.
I just no longer cared.
“If he asks about the manuscript, what am I supposed to say?” Scully was pacing nervously in my room, not ecstatic that she hadn’t been given enough time to get our stories straight.
The story—the one that had started the whole mess—had been shoved to the backburner. I assumed it was still in Nick’s possession, but I was of the firm belief that if I didn’t bring it up, he’d probably forget about it. Besides, who had time to remember something as insignificant as a stupid story when you had a budding new relationship to take your attention?
Besides, his show had just gone on hiatus; his focus would be on having a regular schedule and not having a five a.m. call time.
He hadn’t mentioned it, so I hadn’t either, and if we waited sufficiently long enough, it would be unimportant.
That was the plan, and for now, it seemed like a good one.
“He won’t ask, and if he does, change the subject or fake a contraction or something.” I pulled my hair into a ponytail as I finished getting ready. “Ooooooh, I know, pretend you have baby brain and you have no idea what he’s talking about.”
“Sure, why don’t I just wander aimlessly around the living room and stare at him blankly like English isn’t my first language,” she deadpanned.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Okay, point taken. No need for the theatrics. And judging by the amount of time Luke has spent in the bathroom, I don’t think it’s you I’m going to have to worry about.”
On cue, Luke waltzed in, his hair still wet from a shower, wearing a pair of dress pants and a business shirt without a tie. “He’s straight,” I reminded him, narrowing my eyes.
“I know he’s straight, I’m not trying to turn him.” He shot me a grin. “But he also has hot single male friends, not all of them hetero. I’m all about using the opportunity.”
“Didn’t you just mention some guy you wanted to ask out at lunchtime?” I reminded him, the conversation still fresh in my mind.
He leaned across using my mirror to fluff his hair. “Yeah, that’s not happening. He’s moving to Vegas at the end of the month, and I hate that goddamn place.”
As important as Luke’s future dating life was, we didn’t have any more time to discuss it, the knock at the door getting our attention while we were all still gathered in my room like a PTA meeting.
“Best behavior,” I hissed at them as I shoved past and ran to the front door. That second Red Bull had not been a wise choice, my heartbeat racing as I went to welcome him.
I pulled open the door, casually leaning against the jamb. “Hi.”
Nick’s lips edged into a grin as he moved closer. “We going to go inside, or do you want me to kiss you out here? Do
esn’t bother me either way, but you know I have a thing for you and doorsteps.”
Lord.
It was like he had special powers, the ability to make women swoon into a puddle within seconds.
My arms linked around his neck and tugged his body toward me as my lips met with his. “I volunteer as tribute.”
Kissing Nick was new and yet it felt soooooo right I had to remind myself that I actually hadn’t done it that often.
I’d scripted it on a page a hundred times at least, mentally choreographed every hand movement and touch, imagining exactly how it would feel, smell and taste with the man himself. But no matter how good of a writer I believed myself to be, those carefully thought-out moments weren’t a fraction of how amazing the real thing was.
“Excuse me.” Scully cleared her throat nosily, gently nudging past, forcing us apart. “Sorry, baby brain. Makes me forget my manners.” She turned around to face Nick, her grin wide. “Hi, you must be Nick.”
“And you must be Scully.” He slung his arm around me while he held out the other. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really?” She looked at me sounding genuinely surprised. “If I was dating him, I wouldn’t be talking about other women.”
I rolled my eyes, spinning her around and gently pushing her inside. “We should get you off your feet, you look so tired.”
I was going to kill her.
The first time Nick Larsson was inside my house, and he was going to be an accessory to a crime. Anyone else see a pattern? Should probably get a lawyer on retainer.
“Nice place.” Nick laughed as he followed us inside, ignoring Scully and her comment about other women.
In my living room was another disaster waiting to happen, Luke standing near the couch looking like a GQ model and giving us both a grin. “Hi, I’m Luke.”
“Nick.”
They exchanged handshakes like two businessmen from rivaling firms—smiling, polite, but sizing each other up like they were wondering who had the bigger cash roll in their pants. Although I suspected their reasons were very different.
Luke retracted his hand, tipping his head in approval. “Good to meet you, can I get you a beer?”
“Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” Nick’s hand moved to my hip.
Had to admit, I sort of liked this game.
Luke might have prayed at the altar of cock, but flaming drag queen, he was not. He didn’t throw around “darling” or snap his fingers like they were punctuation marks when he spoke. And if he didn’t tell you that touching boobs made him nauseous, you’d never know. He dressed well, groomed well, loved sports, and knew his way around a socket wrench. But he solidly and undeniably loved the D.
Nick also dressed well, groomed well and loved sports. As for the socket wrench, I had no idea, nor did I care. And if the way he touched my boobs last night was any indication, he really, really liked them. And while I hadn’t taken a survey, I was ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine percent sure he preferred what was between my legs than his own.
See, same, same, but different.
But from the look Nick was giving Luke, I was positive he didn’t know that they played for different teams.
It wasn’t like I could declare, “he’s gay” without being both offensive and insulting. My sexual status wasn’t announced when I entered the room, so neither should his. Which was why I kept my mouth shut.
Luke excused himself to go get drinks while Scully, Nick and I got situated. We took the couch while Scully took an armchair opposite us. At some point I was going to have to go into the kitchen and attempt to cook something without starting a fire, but I wasn’t ready to leave Nick unattended yet. There was a danger of fire in the living room as well—Scully, the only flame required.
“My brother Dave tells me you were at my wrap party.” Nick dove right in, taking the conversation exactly where I hoped it wouldn’t go.
Scully beamed, nodding like one of those bobble heads you mounted on the dashboard. “Yeah, we were bored at ours. Yours was way more interesting. Next time we’ll gate crash from the start, just don’t tip off security.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” Nick winked, his hand moving to my thigh.
The move caught me by surprise, but I didn’t flinch. While I hadn’t been sure if PDAs were kosher or if we were playing it low key, we weren’t exactly hiding our involvement. The extent of the involvement—well that was the five million dollar question.
Luke returned with three beers and non-alcoholic sangria for Scully, handing them out before settling into the other armchair next to her.
“Luke, did you join Scully at the party the other night? Can’t remember seeing you there,” Nick asked, taking a sip of his beer as he relaxed into his seat.
That had to be a trick question.
He didn’t remember seeing Scully there, and she was hard to miss. Which meant his question was a fishing expedition for something else.
Luke’s smile slid slowly across his face, tipping his beer in my direction. “If you’re looking for extra names to add to the watch list, you’ll find none here. Both Claire and I had other plans. But from what we heard, it was an interesting night.” He tipped his beer toward Scully.
Thankfully Nick was still looking at Luke and Scully so he didn’t see my eyes bugging out, the strength of my ocular nerves solely responsible for holding them back in.
Because as much as we hadn’t been with Scully that night, he was well aware of what transpired. Namely, he’d been the one who’d helped me carry Nick into the bedroom, something I still hadn’t mentioned. It was too late now, the time for that little revelation having come and passed the morning I’d left his house.
“I should probably start dinner, feel like helping me?” I asked Nick knowing it was safer to have him see my incompetence in the kitchen than leave him with the uncertainty behind.
Nick rose to his feet, not needing the tug on his arm I had ready for extra encouragement. “Of course.” He took another sip from his beer. “Lead the way.”
He wasn’t far behind me as I strolled out of the room, the eyes of my two best friends following us out.
“What do you need help with first?” he asked, wrapping his hands around my waist and turning me around to face him.
My sanity, I was tempted to answer.
“Well, to be really honest, I suck at cooking. The last time I attempted to make something from scratch, we all ended up in the emergency room.”
Food poisoning was never fun, especially not in front of a guy you had secretly liked forever.
Nick laughed, giving me all his attention. “I’d like to skip any emergency rooms if we can help it. Maybe you should let me cook.”
His offer was not only sweet, but downright tempting. While I’ll admit it was embarrassing, I could screw up scrambling a couple of eggs, my talents lay elsewhere. As for Nick’s talents, well we were only starting to see the full extent of those.
“I was just going to order Uber Eats and palm it off as my own,” I answered honestly. “Or bribe Luke, he’s the best cook out of the three of us.”
“Yes, Luke. Tell me about him. He and Scully . . . together?” He tilted his head to the side, his tone in no way accusing.
Not sure I would have been so calm, especially since I had been sort of jealous of his friend Audrey before I knew she was married. And she didn’t even live with him. Because that made sense.
“No. Not only no, but hell no.” My hands rubbed over his chest. “We’re all just friends—close friends—but no one is romantically involved with anyone else.”
“They’re not my type.” Luke’s voice came from the doorway, his eyes on me and Nick as he walked slowly toward us. “And by they, I mean women.”
“Wasn’t implying anything, I was just curious.” Nick held his hands up defensively, looking a little surprised by Luke’s admission.
Luke didn’t seem annoyed, if not amused by it. He nodded, leaning back against the counter as he
folded his arms across his chest with a grin. “Yeah, you and every other guy who’s walked through that door before you. But we’re friends, good friends, and I love both Scully and Claire like my own family. Which is why I’m here, with all the love in my heart, to ask that you don’t cook for us. And man, if you have any self-preservation, you will back me up on this.”
Nick laughed. “She did mention the last time she cooked you guys ended up in the E.R.”
Luke pulled his face into a grimace before turning to me with a grin. “Which was a disappointment because I’d been praying for the morgue.”
“Looks like a job for the men then.” Nick nodded to my roommate, releasing his hold on me. “You should probably go back to the living room and talk about world domination while Luke and I get dinner ready.”
Luke laughed. “Fast learner, but it’s my kitchen, so my rules. You game, Larsson?”
“Rules were meant to be broken.” Nick brushed a sweet kiss against my lips. “And I have a sordid history with them. So, the question is, are you game?” He eyed me hard before turning back to Luke.
Luke shrugged, his eyes ping-ponging between us. “Sorry is that directed at me, or is this some sexy word play I’m supposed to ignore?” He grinned, tossing a tea towel at both of us.
I caught the tea towel, using it to fan myself as I laughed. “Not sure who it was directed at, but it was really hot. So hot.”
“Go objectify me behind my back like a regular person.” Nick pulled me in for a hug.
“Fine, fine. I’m leaving.” I gave him a quick squeeze before backing away from the door. “But you should be warned, we’ll—probably more so Scully than me—will be eavesdropping and listening to everything you both say.”
“You’ll be listening just as much as me, Claire. Don’t pretend you won’t,” I heard from behind me, her voice closer than it should have been if she’d not been doing exactly that.
“Enjoy.” I saluted them both before sliding out of the room, Scully grabbing me around the arm as I’d cleared the doorway.
“I like him. He makes you smile, is good looking and he’s offered to cook. We should take him hostage and keep him forever.” I was only half sure she was joking.
