Love & Rum

by Dani McLean

With the strength he had left, he crushed our lips together.

  I laid down beside him, curled into his side, and watched happily as he came down from his post-BJ high, harboring every contented sigh and locking it away in my mind for safekeeping.

  I rested my chin on his chest, more than a little proud of myself at how glassy his eyes were with the bliss of the orgasm. I did that.

  My confidence was so high, I teased. “I’ll just give you a moment before the next round.”

  His chuckle was hardly more than a breath as his hands explored my body. I shuffled off my underwear, so we were both naked.

  “I’m really glad we bumped into each other again,” I said.

  “Yeah, about that. It may not have been by accident.” Jackson trailed a finger along my spine, and goosebumps broke out.

  “I had a sneaking feeling that was the case. Tiff looked far too pleased with herself.”

  “Are you mad?”

  I considered the question, putting aside my joy at seeing Jackson again and thinking over what they must have orchestrated to set us up again. “No, I’m not mad.”

  But maybe next time … The words sat on my tongue, and I paused, wondering if I should say them. Would he even want there to be a next time?

  “I’m glad I got to see you again,” I said instead, nervously repeating my earlier sentiment.

  “Me, too. I’d like to keep seeing you. On purpose, this time.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “And maybe without Tiff there.”

  “I’d really like that.” His fingers brushed my cheek, and I leaned into the touch before turning my head to kiss his palm. “Actually, I’m surprised Tiffany didn’t just give you my number.”

  He groaned in frustration as he pulled me up, meeting my lips halfway and slotting his leg between mine so that we were tangled together more deeply. When I finally came up for air, I rested my hands on his chest.

  “I want to be honest about something,” I said.

  He brushed a thumb over my cheek, and I was struck again by how handsome he was. Those sparkling blue eyes looked at me with a warmth I couldn’t remember Brad ever having.

  Before he could respond, I pressed on; I needed him to know … “I just … I have to tell you that I don’t want something serious. I’m not interested in a relationship right now. Maybe I’m totally getting ahead of myself here, but I can’t … I’m just not ready for that right now. It’s got nothing to do with you—God, that sounds so cliché—I just—”

  “Hey, it’s ok.” His hands were warm against my cheeks, and I took a deep breath, feeling myself loosen up on the exhale. “Audrey, I like you. I can’t say I wouldn’t be interested in more, but honestly, right now, I’m not looking for a relationship either. That doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you, but I can’t promise anything.”

  “I don’t need promises,” I said firmly. Promises came with expectations.

  “Ok, no promises. We just take it slow.”

  “Slow is good. How will it work?”

  “How do you want it to work?”

  “Exclusive, but casual. No commitments, no expectations. We just see each other when we can. Although I have to warn you, I don’t get that much time to have a life outside of work. And I don’t really want to give that up just for some …” I let myself trail off, suddenly aware I might be about to insult him.

  “Some incredible sex?” he offered, teasing.

  I playfully rolled my eyes but felt heat spreading over my face, strangely shy even though we were lying naked together.

  His smirk softened. “And just for the record, I’m not seeing anyone right now, casual or otherwise.”

  Just me, my giddy mind reminded me. “I’m not either.”

  “So that just leaves one last question.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for round two?”

  14

  Jackson

  I was a walking cliché, but I couldn’t really bring myself to care. My night with Audrey this weekend, and the knowledge that I’d see her again, had me grinning like an idiot as I walk onto the lot.

  Unlike Wes, morning shoots had never been an issue for me. There was a routine to our schedule that I appreciated, even if the days were occasionally long and there were long periods of nothing in-between takes.

  Anyone who’d ever worked on a set like this would tell you it was a lot of waiting. And sitting. We mixed it up by training as much as possible, even though they didn’t really let us do the hard stunts, but we learned the fight choreography, and there were enough gratuitous ab shots that they liked us being in the gym for a few hours a day. It was better than sitting on my ass; I’d tell you that much.

  Based on today’s schedule, I had a few hours before I was needed in hair and makeup, so I teed up some time to see Felix, our props master, to get the low down on the new weapons for this season.

  Despite the absurdity, I really liked being playing Ryder. I got to wear some amazing suits and wield a number of intricately crafted weapons that made me feel like a total badass.

  Last year, I’d let slip to Felix that I had a thing for archery, just to see if I could get a chance to play with them this time around. Standing with Felix as he unloaded a series of large protective cases onto a long table, I had a good feeling when he slapped me on the shoulder and said, “Buddy, if you like these, you're going to love what we have in store.”

  Next to the array of rather nasty-looking guns, Felix opened a box and carefully removed its contents from the soft foam encasing, handing it to me, with expectant joy on his face. He was especially proud of this one.

  “Oh, man, you were not lying,” I said gleefully, holding what was by far the coolest, most badass weapon I’d been given on this show in the last three years.

  The bow was light in my hand, and it looked like a mix of dark wood and metal but was no doubt some form of whatever plastic or rubber they used for these things. It was only as long as my forearm, and I couldn’t see the limbs or string, but something told me they were hidden in there. Or maybe they’d be CGI’d in during post. I didn’t know what kind of magic they weaved, but I was officially in awe of the prop masters.

  “Glad to know you like it. It’s one of my favorite things we’ve made.” He took it out of my hands and pushed a small button that was hidden amongst the engravings. Limbs immediately extended from the center and locked into place, pulling a string taut between them. “I mean, there’s no way it would hold up in the real world, but it looks frickin’ cool if I do say so myself.” He held it up and pulled back the string. “It locks tight enough that you’ll be able to draw and release for camera, but try not to strain it too much.” He handed it to me, and I tried it out. He was right; it was holding far steadier than I was expecting.

  “Wow, J, I think you might be compensating for something.” As curious as I was about the new toys, Wes had made his way over. Of course, he’d naturally gravitated toward the largest gun on the table. He held it up and mimed stroking the barrel suggestively while leering at me.

  Felix admonished him while taking the bow off me and laying it gently back in its casing. “Stop messing around, Wesley. Besides, that one is yours.”

  I laughed loudly as Wes wagged his middle finger at both of us. “Everyone knows I don’t have anything to compensate for.”

  “God, do you ever stop talking about your dick?” Liv rushed by, not pausing as she passed us with her coffee in hand and sunglasses still on.

  “Long night, Liv?”

  She snorted. “Like you’d know anything about long things, Wes.” Then she disappeared off into hair and makeup.

  Wes appeared unfazed by her retort and turned back to the props table, picking up and admiring some modified handguns. “Got anything new for me, Felix?”

  “Actually,” Felix said as he pulled out an extra-long slim case that both Wes and I were familiar with. Inside was Wes’ typical weapon, a spear with a series of engraved markings in t
he shaft. When Felix handed it to Wes, I could see that it had been altered. Most of the surface was blackened, resembling scorch marks, and the tip had been updated with a crude split, giving the whole weapon a raw, archaic look.

  It was very fucking cool.

  “Fuck. Yes.” Wes tested out the feel of it with a few practiced moves while Felix explained the changes.

  “Since the fight with Mars almost destroyed it, we wanted to really play up the wear and tear from that, and I also wanted to represent Ares’ more vulnerable state this season. So you get a sense of that exposed anger in how jaded and rough his spear looks, and you kind of worry that either could break at any moment.”

  Wes nodded along, still admiring the spear. “Yeah, that’s awesome. I love it.” He hands it back to Felix, who promptly returns it to the case. “Great work as always.”

  I was checking over a few more props when Wes got my attention.

  “Hey, J. I’ve got some thoughts on next week’s script. You got some time to run lines with me?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a bit of time.”

  “Cool.” He said, and I followed him into our designated rehearsal space.

  The studio lot where we filmed wasn’t as big as most, but Wes, Liv, and I did manage to sequester a small space for the three of us to unwind and rehearse between takes. We mostly used it to relax; days on set could be long and sometimes boring, so it was nice to have somewhere we could commiserate together.

  Wes dropped into the chair across from me, one hand digging into his curls as he pulled out his script. I knew he could see my confusion when he tossed it aside.

  “What’s up, man?” I asked. From the pained look on his face, I already had the sense that this wasn’t going to be about work.

  It wasn’t like Wes to brood, despite the villain he played on the show, so my confusion slowly morphed into concern. “Everything ok?”

  Wes hunched over, his earlier cocky ambivalence nowhere to be seen. “Not really, J.” He groaned. “It’s been a tough week.”

  “Girl problems?” I joked, hoping to lighten the mood and immediately regretting it when he bristled. “Sorry.”

  “Let’s just say I can relate to my storyline this year.”

  He was referring to the unrequited love angle between Ares and Meira, which surprised me because, as far as I was aware, he wasn’t seeing anyone. “I had no idea.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Yes? No. Honestly, I’ve been over it so many times in my head I’m a little sick of it, you know? I’ve never been here before, wanting someone who doesn’t see me that way. Who only wants me as a friend.”

  “Have you talked to them?”

  “I don’t need to. I just found out she’s in a pretty serious relationship, so I just need to get the hell over it already.” He slumped back in the chair. “What are you doing later? We could hit a bar, wingman for each other?”

  Now it was my turn to squirm. I hadn’t been keeping Audrey a secret; it just hadn’t come up before. Wes and I spent more time talking shop than anything else, although I realized now that I’d unfairly assumed he wasn’t capable of a serious conversation. “Actually, I can’t. I’m seeing someone.”

  Wes’ smile appeared genuine, although tinged with sadness. “Bar girl, right? That’s great, man. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks, Wes. You do, too. Things will work out.”

  He reached forward for the abandoned script, only offering me an appreciative look in response. I had trouble reconciling his usual boisterous facade with the sullen guy across from me, and I could only imagine what he was going through. “Anytime you need to talk, come find me,” I added, wishing there was more I could do.

  “Hey,” I said after a long stretch of silence had passed. Wes looked up from where he was adding notes into the margins of his script. “Have you heard anything yet about the renewal?”

  “Nothing concrete, but it’s looking good. I just hope Terry can get that deal worked out. The extra money would really help set me up.”

  I hummed my agreement, knowing exactly what I was going to do with the extra money. What I didn’t like, however, was that the whole thing felt out of our hands. Not that I didn’t trust Terry to have our interests in mind, but something irked me about having to sit back and just wait.

  We’d already been knocked back last year when we’d asked the same; the studio came back with some line about how the show was too new, none of us were famous enough to really demand that sort of money, blah blah blah. But we had one more season under our belt now, and the predictions were that our ratings were only going to get better, so I was cautiously hopeful that we’d be successful this time.

  I just wished I could do something to move it along.

  A few days later, it was still on my mind as Audrey and I laid, happy and exhausted, in my bed.

  She’d messaged after finishing work late, wanting to know if I was free, and since I was already home, I’d invited her over to my apartment, something I rarely did.

  Damn, she looked good draped across my sheets.

  I paused in my naked appreciation of her breasts to ask, “Do you often have to negotiate contracts in your job?”

  “Almost always, why?”

  “We’re hoping to secure a better deal if the show gets renewed, but right now, it’s all happening behind closed doors, and it’s bothering me.”

  “I mean … it would be a completely different ballgame for your work, I don’t know the first thing about it.”

  “I know. I guess I was hoping you might have some tips I could use to push the conversation in the right direction.”

  “Hmm. Well, it’s all about context. Sometimes, you need leverage. Other times, it’s more about influence. But I always start with getting to the heart of what the other party wants and then being clear on what I can offer in exchange, even if that means making a concession. Although it’s win-win if you can find something that sounds like you’re making a compromise on something you’re actually happy to do.” She shook her head. “Sorry, that was all a bit vague, wasn’t it? I don’t even know if that will help at all.”

  I considered what she’d said and the seed of an idea planted; but one I’d have to spend some time fleshing out later when I didn’t have a naked, beautiful woman in bed with me.

  “Ok, enough work talk.”

  “I can think of something else we can do.”

  “Oh?” I liked where this was headed.

  “Mmm, there’s a great show I heard about; you might know it. Apparently, I’m out of the loop.”

  “You must be; it’s very popular,” I said, enjoying the laugh it pulled from her.

  “You don’t mind, do you? That I haven’t seen it?” I shook my head, and she continued. “It’s not personal. I just don’t really watch television. It wasn’t something my parents liked me doing when I was growing up and it kind of stuck.”

  “No TV? I can’t even imagine.” Some of my favorite memories were in front of a television. “What did you do for fun?”

  She blushed. “Ok, but you can’t laugh.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Really, you can’t.”

  I held one hand up in a promise.

  “Do you remember those maths problems where you knew, like, Tim was taller than Steve but shorter than James, so how tall is Lucy? Those.”

  My lips twitched around a joke before I reconsidered and settled into a fond smile. “That’s really what you did for fun?”

  She ducked her head. “I liked solving them. My parents didn’t like games either, but I can play a mean round of solitaire.”

  “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No. Just me.”

  “Were you ever lonely?”

  There was a beat. “My parents worked really hard to be around, so I was never alone.”

  I could guess at what she wasn’t saying and felt a wave of awe for this incredible woman who had
spent her childhood lonely but refused to accept any pity for it. Remembering my childhood, I said, “I used to hate those maths problems. I always hoped for a multiple choice answer and just picked C.”

  She laughed, a little tension draining out from between the angles of her shoulder blades. “I bet you still passed every test.”

  “I was consistently lucky,” I added, just to hear her laugh again. Then I gently asked, “Are you close with them? Your parents?”

  “We talk. They live up in Madison and don’t ever visit, but I try to spend the holidays with them.” She smiled softly. “What about you?”

  “Yeah, we’re definitely close. I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like, but we talk a lot, and I have brunch every weekend with my sister. They’re the main reason I want to renegotiate the contract. It’d be nice to give back to them after all they’ve done for Sarah and me.”

  Audrey considered me quietly, and I was held captive by her intense gaze. I took my time to appreciate the flecks of gold that sparkled in her eyes, hinting at a treasure I’d only myself started to glimpse. I hoped I would have the chance to discover all of it.

  Eventually, she leaned in and kissed me. “They’re lucky to have you.”

  I cupped her cheek in one palm. “I already told you, I’m the lucky one.”

  15

  Audrey

  I knocked again.

  Then, louder.

  Finally, I called through the door. “I come bearing coffee.”

  “It better be strong.” Tiff ripped the door open wide, her hair a wild mess where it had been thrown into a bun with little concern for how it looked. She was wearing her usual ripped jeans and tank top, which I could only imagine were thrown together in the same thoughtless fashion as her hair.

  I held the coffee out to her. “Three extra shots. Your usual.”

  “Thank fuck. You ready to go?”

  A naked body shuffled down the hallway behind her. “Uh, yeah … Are you sure you are?” I gestured at the retreating bare ass.