Behind me I hear Blaine say, “I’ll do it.” Even in my shattered state I cringe at the eagerness in his voice. I’d rather succumb to hypothermia than let Blaine get anywhere near me.
“Back off,” Drew growls.
“Why don’t you go smoke a bowl of something,” Haley says.
I close my eyes to the sound of Blaine muttering something unintelligible, then stomping away.
“You get in there and warm her up,” Haley says, her voice softer.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Drew asks.
“Are we seriously going to have an argument about who is going to warm her up? You’re the biggest dude here other than Blaine, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him go near her. You’re our best bet at warming her up in the fastest amount of time. There’s no way we can get an ambulance out here to help before her internal temperature drops to dangerous levels. Do it.”
There’s a thud, then the whooshing sound of the van door shutting. Then tugging at the sleeping bag. Then instant, comforting warmth.
Eyes still closed, I let out a hum.
“I’m jumping in the sleeping bag to warm you up, okay? I know this’ll be weird, but we have to. To get your core temperature back up.”
I let out an “mmm” noise and nod. There’s the sound of fabric rustling, then the tug of the zipper. He snakes his arms around my torso once more, then presses his legs against the backs of mine. I curl my toes, relishing how toasty his feet feel. His entire body shrouds mine. How is he so warm? It’s like cuddling into a heated blanket.
I let out a sigh. Slowly, as I start to warm up, my brain clears up. My heartbeat steadies, and I open my eyes. All I see is Drew’s arm braced over me.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Drew says softly.
When I blink, my eyelids grow heavy. It’s like the rush of adrenaline has left me. My muscles loosen. It’s a struggle to stay awake, but I manage to say one more thing before I fade.
Against my back his heart thuds. “Sorry about this, Dunn,” he says in a low voice.
“Don’t be sorry.” I don’t slur this time. “Thanks for being so warm.”
10
I wake to the sound of thudding.
I immediately push myself to sit up, but my head feels as heavy as a cinder block. I brace myself with both hands on the floor, hunched over.
“Easy,” Drew says from behind me.
The thudding persists. It’s coming from outside, I realize.
“What’s that noise?” I ask.
With his arms on my shoulders, he slowly helps me back to a lying-down position.
“My truck got a flat. Wyatt and Joe are putting on the spare,” he says.
“God, this shoot really is cursed,” I groan, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. “Busted equipment, a nightmare host, me falling into the river. Now your truck.”
“Come on, now, Dunn. Let’s not get dramatic.” Drew’s playful tone rings softly in my ear.
Goose bumps flash across my shoulders as he extracts himself from the sleeping bag. He crawls over to the far end of the van and crouches next to a large black backpack. When my eyes focus, I blink twice, then stare, appreciating for the millionth time just how built Drew is. I do a slow once-over of him as he searches for something inside his bag. Everything from his back to his arms to his chest to his stomach is lean, hard mass. My mouth waters. I swallow as I fixate on his sculpted rump and thighs. Damn, damn, damn. He’s got one of those strong, functional physiques that isn’t hairless or oiled to hell like some preened and primped underwear model. Drew’s look is the rugged counter to that. He’s like a strong and manly lumberjack with a stylish haircut and stubble. I decide right then and there it’s my favorite aesthetic on the planet.
Blinking furiously, I force my stare to a random spot on the floor. I absolutely shouldn’t be checking out one of my crew members. That’s an ethical and professional violation if I’ve ever heard one.
“Aha.” He turns to me, a grin plastered on his face as he holds up a thermos.
Then he crawls over and kneels next to me. My face heats and a bevy of inappropriate images swirl through my brain involving Drew on his knees.
I frown at nothing in particular. “What’s that?”
“Hot tea.” He unscrews the lid of the thermos and pours some out into the lid, which serves as a cup. Then he brings it to his mouth and blows on it. “Are you able to lean up?”
I nod, propping myself up on my elbows. I move slowly this time so as to not give myself a head rush. Then Drew cradles the back of my head with his free hand while slowly, carefully bringing the cup to my lips.
“Careful. It’s still pretty warm,” he says.
I hum while taking a sip, the hot liquid soothing my throat. All the while my heart races in my chest at Drew’s doting gesture. But I know better than to get carried away. I heard what Haley said earlier. She practically commanded him to warm me up. He’s just carrying out her orders.
“You need to drink this whole thermos,” he says softly, bringing the cup back to my lips. “It’ll help you warm up on the inside.”
I let out a moan after another swallow. “I’ll do my best.”
“And after that, we should get you checked out at a hospital.”
I shake my head while gulping. “No way.”
Drew frowns at me. “Dunn, you probably had hypothermia. You still might.”
I shake my head, cutting him off. “I don’t. I’m not shivering anymore. My skin is warm. I’m not slurring my words or foggy-headed. Clearly my core temperature is back up.”
I lean my back against the interior of the van. He sets the thermos to my side, then sits cross-legged in front of me.
His eyebrows crash together as he sighs; then he reaches over and presses the back of his hand to my forehead. Then he turns his hand over and cups my cheek for a long second as he stares at me, his expression easing. If anyone else tried to pull that move on me, I’d shove them away. But there’s something so sweet and doting in Drew’s gesture.
“Drew, I’m fine. I promise, if I still felt off, I’d tell you. I wouldn’t put myself at risk like that.”
He pulls his hand away. “Okay,” he says softly.
I shift and the sleeping bag slips down, exposing my bra. I quickly pull it up, my face heating.
“Thank you for everything you did,” I say.
“Of course.”
There’s a long moment of silence where we just look at each other while I drink more tea. I sigh. I need to say this. Now’s as good a time as any.
“Look, I know . . . I know we’ve had kind of a weird start with each other so far. And we’ve had some awkward moments during this shoot . . .”
Drew looks off to the side while rubbing his jaw.
I clear my throat. “I really do like working with you, Drew. And I just want to say, you’re the best field coordinator I’ve ever worked with. Thank you for all your hard work and for having my back so many times.”
His eyes brighten the slightest bit at what I’ve said. “Of course. And thanks.”
He sounds taken aback, like he’s surprised I would say any of this.
“And I’m sorry you had to jump half-naked into a sleeping bag with me,” I say. “I’m sure that counts as some weird kind of hostile work environment.”
“Don’t say that.” He frowns, like it’s absurd I would even think to apologize.
I run my finger along the rim of the plastic cup. “I just don’t want to cross any professional boundaries. If you felt like you had no choice, like you were coerced into doing that with me . . .”
“Hey.” His firm tone compels me to look up at him. “I didn’t feel that way at all. Don’t be ridiculous. It was an emergency.”
I sigh, both relieved that he feels that way and disappointed in myself th
at I’m clearly the only one who got the tiniest bit of enjoyment out of it.
“Okay. Thank you,” I say softly.
I drain the last of the tea in my mug, and he leans over to pour more. “I would have done the same for anyone on the crew, so please don’t even worry about it.”
“Even Blaine?” I say as I hold the cup to my mouth.
“Nope. I’d let him freeze to death.”
I laugh just as I sip, which causes a coughing fit. Drew leans over to pat me on the back.
“You good?” he asks, his brows furrowed together.
I nod and clear my throat.
He sits back, resting his elbows on the tops of his bent knees. “You know, cuddling you for the last hour wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had to do on the job, Dunn.”
I could swear I see a glimmer in his eyes when he admits that. The corner of his mouth twitches up, like he’s trying to keep a smile at bay. Inside I grow warm, and my stomach goes giddy.
“Really?” I shake my head, chuckling.
“Really. The things I had to do as a production assistant make today look like a spa getaway,” he says.
I chuckle again. “What did you have to do?”
“The usual. Coffee runs, lugging all the gear by myself, crowd control, locking down locations, all the grunt work every PA has to do.”
I nod along, remembering how I did those exact same jobs when I first started.
“One time, the cinematographer on a nature documentary I was working on texted me in the middle of the night to buy him socks,” Drew says.
I cover my mouth as I swallow so I don’t do a spit take.
Drew runs a hand through his hair, grinning. “Apparently he had been up for three days straight editing while wearing the same pair of socks and didn’t have time to run home or to the store and get himself fresh ones.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, thankful I never had to do that.
“Then there was that one time a director asked me to pick up condoms on my way to set because he had a hot date that night and was sure he was going to score,” Drew says. “He demanded that I buy four boxes of magnums. I had to drive to three different drugstores to find enough boxes.”
My head falls back as I laugh.
“So don’t even worry about what happened, Dunn.” His expression softens to a sweet smile. “It was essentially like taking a nap in the middle of the day. It was pretty nice, actually.”
My heart thunders at just how sincere he sounds. Maybe he did like it a little bit, after all.
“Do I get to hear any of your awful PA stories?” he asks.
“God, there aren’t enough hours in the day. Okay, you want to hear the most outrageous thing I had to do?”
“Yes.”
“I was working on that Planet Earth spin-off Expedition did, like, ten years ago. One of the head producers got arrested for drunk driving when we were shooting for a few months in the Pacific Northwest. She got a fine and community service, which she was pissed about. She swore up and down she wasn’t going to do the community service because she worked fourteen-hour days and just didn’t have the time.”
“Wow.” Drew grimaces. “She sounds like an entitled jerk.”
“Oh, she was. Very much so.”
“How did she get out of her community service?”
“She didn’t. She was best friends with the executive producer—they were film school buddies, I think. So the EP told me to report to her community service, lie and say that I was her, and do it for her so the producer wouldn’t have to.”
Drew’s jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I were.”
“And you just went along with it?”
“I was barely twenty-two and determined as hell to impress the EP because I wanted her to hire me on her next shoot. It was two weeks of picking up garbage off the side of the road. Totally miserable—but it paid off. The EP and producer were appreciative and hired me on as a production coordinator for their next series.”
Drew’s expression turns bewildered. “That’s really fucked up they made you do that. And illegal.”
“I wouldn’t ever be okay with something like that now, of course. And I would never, ever even think to ask that of anyone I work with. I was young and naive and eager to impress. A dangerous combo.”
Young and naive and eager to impress . . . a dangerous combo.
That also perfectly describes how I got into the single worst relationship I’ve ever been in and why I’m the jaded dating and relationship cynic I am today . . .
I down the rest of the tea in my cup, then refill it. Just then I notice how energetic and lively I feel.
“I’m feeling a lot better,” I say. “Thank you. For everything.”
He raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. “Don’t get sentimental on me, Dunn. It’s unprofessional.”
I tilt my head at him. “I like you a lot better like this.”
“Like what? Me in my underwear serving you tea?”
I roll my eyes while chuckling and looking off to the side. When I lock eyes with Drew once more, there’s a sparkle I recognize immediately. It’s the same hungry stare he flashed at me that night at the Brazen Head.
I run my gaze over his bare chest and legs. “You in your underwear serving me tea is definitely a plus.”
He wags an eyebrow at me, and my stomach does a flip. I swallow to keep myself in check.
“But what I meant is I like that we’re getting along now,” I say. “It feels a million times better than clashing with you.”
His expression softens. “I gotta admit that I like this too. I like you a lot, Dunn.”
His pointed look sends goose bumps all over my skin.
Just then there’s pounding on the door, jolting me. Drew grabs a white T-shirt from the van floor, throws it on, then opens the door.
A frowning Wyatt stands there, his worried gaze flitting between us. “I’ve got some bad news.”
I brace myself. “What is it?”
“Blaine took some edibles and passed out in the bed of Drew’s truck.” Wyatt looks off to the side, presumably where the truck is parked. “I don’t think he’s gonna be getting up for a few hours at the very least. And judging by that wall of dark clouds coming in, we’ve only got about two hours of shooting left.”
“Fuck,” Drew and I mutter at once.
Wyatt points his defeated gaze at me. “I’m sorry, Alia.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. If I had been more careful when I was climbing around, I wouldn’t have fallen into the river and we could have nailed this segment an hour ago.”
Just then Drew gently grabs my shoulder and gives it a soft, encouraging squeeze. “Don’t apologize. That was an accident. And it’s not your fault Blaine is an unreliable flake.”
I nod and say thanks, taken aback by how fiercely he attempts to comfort me.
Just then an idea hits. It’s wild and completely reckless—but it just might work.
I sit up and turn to Drew. “I just thought of something.”
* * *
• • •
Twenty minutes later, the crew and I—sans Blaine—are back in the Narrows getting ready to film. In Blaine’s place is Drew, standing in the knee-deep water several yards away from the start of the trail in a wet suit and ad-sponsored gear.
In the van, when I pitched the idea of Drew filming Blaine’s remaining scenes for today, Drew hesitated. But then I explained that I just needed him as a sort of digital stand-in. We already had the episode intro filmed with Blaine. All we needed were some demo shots of the sponsored gear. In editing I could go back and lay over Blaine’s face and voice. Drew was on board after that.
“Okay, guys!” I holler, standing in the water just a few feet away from him. “We’ve got exactly ninety
minutes of sunlight and good weather left. That means we need to nail this segment as quickly as possible.”
I gaze up at Drew, who’s decked out head to toe in gear from BetBet Activewear, our sponsor for this episode, including a hat and sunglasses. I silently thank the heavens that they sent a size too big by mistake. Drew has about fifteen pounds of lean muscle on Blaine, so the gear fits him like a glove.
From a distance, with this much of his face covered, he looks similar to how Blaine looked when he had the gear on while filming earlier in the day.
For a split second Drew looks straight into Joe’s camera with a deer-in-the-headlights look. I walk over to him.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” I ask him.
He blinks, then nods. The color starts to return to his face. “Yeah. I’m good. I just had a bit of a flashback for a sec there.”
“That’s understandable. Take as much time as you need.”
The focus in his eyes slowly returns the longer he looks at me. “I’m ready, Dunn.”
“Wanna practice saying the intro just to warm up your voice?”
“Good idea.”
I pat him gently on the arm and give him what I hope is an encouraging smile. Then I tell Wyatt and Joe that Drew is going to practice the intro to get comfortable.
“Hey, everyone.” He beams wide, showcasing his perfectly straight white teeth. “On today’s episode of Discovering Utah, we’re hiking the Narrows at the stunning Zion National Park.”
He goes into the short explanation of the park and this trail that he memorized to coach Blaine earlier. I’m blown away at how natural and charismatic Drew is on camera. His smile is inviting, not smug. When he talks, it’s like he’s having a one-on-one conversation with the viewer.
He raises his eyebrow, tilting his head ever so slightly while leaning on the walking stick. “Since it’s springtime in Utah, that means the water is still pretty frigid. Wearing a wet suit is a must.”
Wyatt gets a close-up as Drew explains the safety, clothing, and equipment recommendations before aiming that killer smile of his into the camera. “Now, let’s get hiking.”
On Location Page 12
