14
That’s a wrap!” I call out as we film the final sunrise shot at the Needles.
I glance over at Drew, who’s the focus of Joe’s camera shot, then look away. If I look too long, that giddy feeling I’ve been keeping at bay inside me this whole morning will certainly take over.
When everyone finishes packing up, I ask them to gather around for a quick chat. We huddle together in a small circle, and I commend them on the job they’ve done and thank them for their hard work.
“It’s been a weird shoot, I know,” I say. My eyes dart to Blaine’s tent. I turn to Colton. “Blaine’s still passed out?”
“Out cold. I checked on him earlier. He’s breathing but sleeping very deeply.”
“Okay, good. Because I need to ask you guys something.”
I take a breath and dive right into my proposal to secretly make Drew the new host. I tell them everything Drew and I discussed last night—our plan for his social media accounts, our idea to continue filming Blaine so that he doesn’t catch on, and how I’m going to pitch this change to the network execs once we wrap up shooting and have edited episodes ready to show them.
Everyone stares at me with slight frowns, except for Rylan, who’s almost smiling.
“I know this is a really risky thing to ask you guys,” I say. I glance at Drew before addressing everyone again. “And if anyone isn’t on board with this, all you have to do is say so and we won’t do it. We’re a team. I’m not about to pull something like this without the full support of the crew. When we take this to the network, I’ll tell them it was my call and my call only to make this switch. If the execs don’t like it, fine. I’ll take the heat for it. That’s my responsibility as the one in charge of this project. But I don’t want to do this unless you’re all on board.”
Haley holds up a hand before I can say more. “I’m in. I’m sick of Blaine’s bullshit. I’m one hundred percent behind this.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding, relieved that I have Haley’s support. After all the years we’ve worked together, she’s never once held back on me. If I came up with a crappy idea, she’d be the first one to say so. But whenever I had a new idea that I was too unsure about to pitch, she was also the first one to encourage me. As nervous as I am to pull this off, she’s the one person whose support I need most.
“That goes double for me,” Wyatt says. “Honestly, I’m glad you thought this up. It’s a great idea. The best way to handle this crappy host situation, honestly.”
“I think so too,” Joe says as he reties his wavy blond hair into a bun. “We’re with you, Alia.”
“We are too,” Rylan says, standing tall. She grabs Colton’s hand.
He nods. “I think that’s the right thing to do. Honestly. I know . . . I know I’m his personal assistant, and I’m supposed to be loyal to him. But, God, he’s the worst.” He turns to Drew, who’s standing at the other end of the semicircle we’ve formed. “You’re a way better host. Seriously.”
Drew smiles a thanks, then looks at me. “Obviously I’m in.”
I grin and look at the ground. This is it. We’re actually doing this—we’re throwing out the playbook completely and it could totally screw me. But I don’t care. This is the right thing to do. I can feel it in my bones.
“So this is what you two came up with in the tent together last night?” Haley says.
Even though her tone is professional, I can tell by the gleam in her eye that she’s suspicious. I know she’s wondering if Drew and I got up to something more.
I meet her knowing stare with a professional smile. “Yes. That’s exactly what we did.”
“We should throw you two together more often,” she says. “See what other ideas you come up with.”
“I’d be down for that,” Drew adds.
I swallow and try my best to keep a straight face. Then I thank everyone, and we get back to packing up our equipment and tents to head back to Moab.
“Don’t think I didn’t pick up on that little look between you two,” Haley says as I start to take down one of the tents.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I keep my eyes on the bright orange material of the tent.
She rests a hand on my arm to get me to look at her. “I get it. You’re keeping things quiet because this is a work situation. I respect it.”
I let out a slow, quiet sigh, grateful that she’s picked up on that.
She narrows an eye at me. “When you’re ready to spill, I want all the details.”
“Noted,” I say, trying to keep my face straight.
She walks off to start tearing down her own tent. I spot Colton darting into Blaine’s tent to wake him. Drew walks over to me.
“Need some help?” he asks.
I shake my head, then jut my chin at Blaine’s tent. We both look over as Colton drags a very groggy Blaine out of there with his arm draped over him.
“Actually, could you help Colton take Blaine to his car?”
“Of course. But first, I just wanna say that I hope last night wasn’t a one-off,” he says quietly. “I’d like to see you again.”
My cheeks are ablaze as I try not to smile, thrilled that he wants to see me again too. “You do?”
“Absolutely.” He takes a step toward me. “I don’t want to come off as a creep or weirdly eager, but I’m not a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy. I really like you, Alia. And I want to spend as much time as possible with you.”
My stomach tingles as I bite my lip. “I’d like that too.”
I’m about to tell him to meet me in my hotel room so we can shower off this trip together before going at it in bed, but I stop myself. This is my first-ever series, and I’m fooling around with one of the crew members. I need to be smart about things. Because the last time I did that, I blew up my life and my job.
“But I think we should talk about things first before we, um . . .”
I trail off when I notice Joe is about to walk by toward the tents, gear in hand.
A tad bit of the cheeky look in Drew’s eyes fades. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
I take a step back from Drew, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing. “We need to be careful about how we interact in front of everyone too.”
He purses his lips, then nods. “Of course.”
“Meet me at that smoothie place in downtown Moab? At four?”
“I’ll be there,” he says before jogging off.
I look up from my phone and spot Drew as he walks toward me. I’m seated at a wrought iron table on the side patio of the hipster juice bar a few blocks from the edge of downtown Moab.
I hand him the kiwi, kale, and banana smoothie I ordered for him.
He half smiles. “A green juice just for me? You really know how to woo a guy.”
I sip my acai berry smoothie. “We’ve been eating like crap this entire shoot. I figured you could use something green. Especially after all those Snoballs I’ve seen you inhale.”
“Snoballs are the food of the gods.” He plops down next to me just as one of the workers drops off a plate of veggies, pita bread, and hummus.
We thank her, and Drew swipes a slice of pita bread, dips it into the hummus, then narrows his gaze at me as he chews.
“So what are we here to discuss, Dunn?”
I straighten up and then pivot my chair so that I’m facing him. We’re so close our knees are almost touching.
“I’d like to keep seeing you during this shoot,” I say.
“I’d like that too.” Drew’s expression brightens, which makes my heart flutter.
“I just think we should set some ground rules.”
Drew narrows his gaze at me as he takes a sip of his juice. “Okay,” he says slowly.
I chuckle and lean forward to rest my hand on his knee. “Don’t look so suspicious. I just want to make sure we both know what we’re getting into.” I swallow and sit back. “I just . . . I don’t want this to come off as unethical. Or like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Why would you think you’re taking advantage of me? I thought it was pretty clear last night how much I wanted you.”
“I’m in charge of this shoot. I don’t want it to seem like I’m abusing my position over you as a freelancer on the set.”
“You’re definitely not doing that. It’s not like you’re pulling me into the elevator at the office and having your way with me.” He tilts his head at me, smirking. “Although that would be a lot of fun.”
I roll my eyes and start to look away, but then he grabs my hand.
“In all seriousness, I get it. You’re the showrunner. But it’s not like I’m your underling. I’m a freelancer hired by the network. I’m not an intern or a PA. There are no lines you’re crossing with me. Promise.”
I let out a breath. “Okay. Good.”
“So what are your rules?”
I slide my phone back over and pull up the notes I typed out earlier while I was waiting for Drew to arrive.
“Damn. You made a whole list.” He twists to read the screen.
My face heats. “Yeah, um. It’s weird, but I write out lists every time I need help getting my thoughts together. It helps when I . . .”
I cut myself off before I say the rest, which will most definitely make me sound like a freak.
“When you what?”
“When I . . . can’t stop thinking about something. Or someone.” I pause, my face igniting. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
That warm smile tugs at his perfectly pouty mouth once more. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like that I’m worth making a list for. And that you can’t stop thinking about me. I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
I bite my lip, grinning. I focus back on the list. “First thing is discretion. I don’t want anyone on the crew knowing about this.”
“Of course.”
“And I think we should keep our . . . private activities strictly limited to when we know we won’t get caught.”
He raises his brow.
“Okay, so you know how we’re all sharing that house rental the week we’re filming at Bryce Canyon? And then we’re sharing that condo rental while filming at Capitol Reef National Park? Since the whole crew minus Blaine is going to be staying in the same places, it’s too risky for us to do anything with each other. Someone might see us.”
He flashes a pointed look. “I don’t know why you’re so worried about people finding out about us. The crew likes you and respects you. I mean, I’ve only been working with you all for a couple of weeks and even I can see that. They’re not going to think less of you for what you choose to do in your personal life.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that; it’s just . . . this series is my first big project. I want there to be as few issues as possible. And yeah, they probably wouldn’t care what I’m getting up to in my off hours, but I don’t want to take a chance. I want to keep my personal life as private as possible. I don’t want anything to complicate this.”
Drew spends a few moments processing what I’ve said. “I get it.”
“So that means we’ll have to abstain from hooking up while filming in Bryce.”
“Fine,” he says through a breath.
“And no sending sexy texts or naughty photos.”
He coughs while sipping his drink. Grabbing a nearby napkin, he wipes his mouth. “Why not?”
I almost laugh at how whiny he sounds, like a kid being told he can’t have ice cream before bed. “I don’t want someone accidently seeing our phones. I know we both have passcodes, but sometimes when you send a text or a photo, it’ll show up on your locked screen and someone might see that.”
“Fair point.”
“And if at any point one of us is uncomfortable or wants to stop this setup, we stop. Immediately. No questions asked.”
Drew nods his head in understanding.
“And no talking about the future or putting pressure on each other about . . . expectations. I want this to be uncomplicated and fun.”
He blinks, his expression neutral.
“That’s okay with you, right?” I ask.
“Absolutely. Anything else?”
I shake my head and darken my phone screen. “That’s it. Just being discreet and keeping it in our pants for the Bryce and Capitol Reef shoots.”
He taps his empty cup while I start on the carrot sticks and hummus.
“Someone hurt you, didn’t they?” Drew says out of the blue.
“What?”
“That’s why you’re taking this . . . approach with us.”
I lean back in my chair, mildly surprised at how quickly Drew picked up on this.
I contemplate brushing it all off, but the way he looks at me, with sincerity and concern in his eyes, makes me want to tell the truth. So I do.
“Yeah. Big-time.”
“What happened?” he asks softly.
I cross my arms and look off to the sidewalk in front of us, where tourists stroll up and down the street. “The usual. I was a typical naive twenty-something who fell for an older guy . . . and who didn’t realize for the entire year that we dated that I wasn’t actually his girlfriend. I was his mistress.”
Drew’s eyes go wide. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “He was a director who showered me, a lowly PA, with loads of attention. I thought he was genuinely into me, but I was just his young and pretty thing he kept on the side. I should have known better.”
When I look back up at Drew, his jaw muscle bulges underneath the thick scruff blanketing his cheeks. “Asshole.”
“Reid was definitely that, now that I look back on things.” Just the mention of his name after all these years turns the taste in my mouth sour. “But he was also charming and sweet. And I was sick of dating fuckboys my age. My twenty-two-year-old self thought that dating a guy in his forties was the answer. Little did I know then that forty-something men can be fuckboys too.”
I take another long sip of my smoothie and give Drew a summary of my year dating Reid. How he never introduced me to his friends or family, how he never asked to meet my friends or parents. How he never planned a date in advance, always asking me out the day of. I didn’t realize at the time what a red flag that was—he only made time for me on nights when his wife was working late or out of town.
How he never let me spend the night at his place, always paying for a taxi to take me back to my apartment.
How I can remember vividly the three times he stood me up when I insisted that we plan a dinner date a few days in advance—and the lies he told me to cover his ass.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you didn’t call me the day after we met,” I say softly. “I figured you were standing me up, just like he did.”
“Alia . . .”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t. I just mean at the time, those were the feelings it brought up.”
Drew leans forward and moves his arm like he wants to reach for me but places his hand on his leg instead.
“Can I ask how it ended?”
“Exactly how you’d think,” I say, annoyed at how defeated I sound. “We were at my apartment. He was in the shower, and his phone kept buzzing. I thought it was an emergency, so I looked at his screen. And that’s when I saw a slew of texts from his wife. I’ll never forget the very last message she sent before I dropped the phone in shock. ‘Are you with your little whore?’ ”
Drew reaches across the table to scoop my hand in his. “God, Alia. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not fucking okay.”
There’s a low-level anger in his voice that sends a flutter to my chest, like he’s upset that anyone would dare hurt me.
“That guy was a piece of shit. He didn’t deserve you. And you’re not naive for what happened to you. You were vulnerable and trusting. Because why wouldn’t you be? That’s how you should be in a relationship. And he took advantage of it in the worst way.”
The conviction in Drew’s voice as he speaks, the way he doesn’t dare blink as he holds my gaze—they’re both like a warm blanket wrapped around my heart.
“That guy was a prick. He didn’t deserve a single second with you, Dunn.”
“I told him as much when I confronted him as he came out of the shower. And then I threw his clothes and phone out of my bedroom window.”
The corner of Drew’s mouth quirks up, and he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s brutal. And exactly what he deserved.”
I lean back in my chair, our hands still joined. “He fired me the next day at work.”
“He what?”
“ ‘Reassigned’ is probably the better word, but he got me removed from the show I was working on and put me on that Planet Earth spin-off where I ended up doing community service for that EP I told you about. I felt so used.”
Drew gives my hand another squeeze.
“I remember overhearing him on the phone right before I walked into his office the day he fired me. He must have been talking to someone who was in charge of the shoot he was reassigning me to. He was saying all these awful things about me. How I was this obsessed girl who developed this weird crush on him and wouldn’t stop pestering him to go out with me. How he needed to get me away from him as soon as possible and had to cash in on a favor to have the other series take me on. It was . . . humiliating.”
I take a breath as that all-too-familiar wave of shame and heartache washes over me.
“He sounded like a totally different person. I remember that so vividly. His voice on that phone call wasn’t the voice I knew, the voice I heard so many times telling me how beautiful I was and how much he loved my laugh. He spoke to me so sweetly before . . . but overhearing him on the phone, how hard and low and detached his tone was, it was like I was listening to a complete stranger. It killed me. And it made me realize that I didn’t know him at all . . . and yet I had been so intimate with him. That made my skin crawl.”
I pause to take a drink. Drew’s eyes stay glued to me.
“I thought I was smarter than that.”
“Alia,” Drew says softly. He repeats my name when I don’t look at him right away. “You are smart. He was exactly what you said—a manipulative jerk. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours.”
“You’re the only person other than Haley who knows about him. I was too humiliated to tell my other friends or even my family about what happened. I thought they’d be so ashamed of me, getting involved with a married guy and not even knowing it.”
“Alia . . .”
“You know what the worst part is?” I say, ignoring him. “After all he did, I was still heartbroken. I was actually sad to lose him. I cried for weeks after things ended between us.”
“Alia, look at me,” Drew says calmly.
When I finally meet his gaze, I go breathless. He looks like a warrior ready to rip apart anyone who crosses my path.
“You have no reason to feel embarrassed or ashamed. What happened was his fault, not yours. You did nothing wrong. And crying over him is nothing to be embarrassed about. It shows how genuine your feelings were for him. He didn’t deserve it, but that’s not the point. You were in love and that selfish asshole broke your heart. Not one bit of it was your fault.”
I let a small smile slip. “I know that now. It’s just . . . made me skittish when it comes to relationships and dating—especially a coworker. I tried to do a couple of serious relationships since then, but nothing ever stuck.”
Drew winces for a half second before nodding. “I get it. Completely.”
He lets go of my hand, and we share a quiet few moments where all we do is people watch.
When I inhale, my chest feels looser. “Thanks for listening. And for all the sweet things you said.”
“Of course, Dunn.”
“So. Do you have any god-awful breakup stories you can share so I don’t feel totally alone?”
Drew runs a hand through his hair. “I was engaged once.”
“Oh. Crap, I didn’t mean . . . I was only half-serious—”
“It’s okay,” Drew says, leaning forward and touching my hand once more. “I was in my twenties too. We were college sweethearts. We just weren’t right for each other. Yeah, the breakup sucked, but better than marrying someone who isn’t right for you.”
“That’s why I don’t want to put any pressure on this, on us. I don’t have the greatest track record. I just want something fun and easy.”
Drew nods once. “Same.”
He pulls me by the hand to scoot closer to him. “You ready to get out of here?”
The look in his eyes is positively hungry. All the tension from hashing out my failed relationship melts away when I focus on him. Instead I feel relaxed and comforted and content.
“Absolutely.”
Fifteen minutes later I’m in Drew’s hotel room, standing by the window.
“You’re just a few doors down from me,” I say as I look out at the view of the parking lot. A wall of red rock rests behind the concrete, cutting into the indigo sky of early evening. “You have a better view, though.”
Just then I feel the warmth from Drew’s body skimming mine as he walks up to stand behind me. His hands fall to my waist, and his mouth presses against the side of my neck.
“I think this is a better view,” he growls softly against my neck.
My eyes close as I take in the sensation. The warmth from his lips and his breath. The firm press of his hands against my body. How I shiver with anticipation as he touches me.
He gently drags his mouth along the back of my neck. I let out a soft, shaky gasp as he lightly nuzzles his face right where the base of my neck meets my shoulder. A yummy shiver runs through me.
“Just say the word, Dunn.”
I turn around to face him, cup his face in my hands, and kiss him until we’re both aching for air. “On the bed, Irons.”
A wide grin crowds his face. We walk the two feet to the bed, and then I gently push him to sit on the edge of it. Leaning over, I pull his T-shirt over his head. Just like in the tent, I’m speechless at the expanse of lines and firm muscle that cover his torso and arms. But it’s even more glorious now because I get to see it in proper lighting. That patch of hair that runs from the center of his chiseled chest all the way down to below the waistline of his jeans makes me giddy with anticipation. I notice too that he’s got a slight smattering of freckles along his shoulders. I run my fingers along his right shoulder. He closes his eyes and hums.
I place both hands on his shoulders, admiring their broad spread.
He narrows an eye at me, the expression on his face playful. “Is that a subtle cue for me to lie down?”
“Yup.”
He winks up at me, and I smile. I start to push him to lie down on the bed, but he gently grabs my wrists with both of his hands, stopping me. He stays sitting up. “I thought of another rule,” he says, his eyes shining.
“What’s that?”
“Every time we’re together when the situation allows, I want you to be loud.” He lifts an eyebrow at me when I swallow.
I bite back a grin. “That . . . won’t be a problem. I’m usually pretty loud. Like, I don’t even mean to be. It’s just natural. And a little embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?”
“When I lived with roommates, it was their most common complaint about me.”
“We’re a perfect match, then. I can’t stand quiet.”
He reaches to my waist to unbutton my jeans as I shed my top. And then I’m standing there in the only set of semi-matching bra and panties I brought with me to Utah—a black jersey-material bra and black cotton panties.
“I didn’t think I’d be doing this while I’m here,” I say, glancing at my bare feet. My face heats as I fiddle with my hands. “Otherwise I would have brought nicer . . . stuff.”
Drew probably doesn’t care that I’m not decked out in high-end lingerie, but I can’t help but wish I had something a bit sexier to amp up this moment.
When I glance up, he has an awestruck look on his face. It’s another couple of seconds of his hazel-brown eyes scanning my body until he makes eye contact with me again. “Are you joking?”
“I just mean—”
He grabs my hands in his. “Alia, you look incredible. Like, fucking incredible.”
The way he speaks, it’s like he’s having a difficult time finding the right words to express just how much he likes seeing me nearly naked. It sends all the nerves and uncertainty inside me retreating.
He reaches up to unhook my bra and drops it onto the pile of my clothes on the floor. Holding my hips with both hands, he leans up and presses the softest kiss to my stomach. My mouth falls open as I inhale sharply. He trails feather-soft kiss after feather-soft kiss farther down my body until he reaches the hemline of my panties, then stops.
“Can I take these off?” he asks with his mouth against my skin.
I run my hands through his hair and moan. “Yes.”
A beat later my panties are on the floor. I step out of them, and his hands fall away from me as he leans back on his elbows on the bed.
The smuggest grin I’ve ever seen fills his face. “Best view ever. Hands down.”
He makes a come hither motion with his index finger, but I shake my head. “You need to be naked too.”
He grins, then unzips his jeans. I lean over and help him slide out of them, leaving him in gray boxer briefs that perfectly highlight the generous bulge underneath. I slide those off and am once again appreciative of the excellent lighting in this hotel room. Now I can see Drew in his full, unobscured glory.
I climb onto the bed and gently palm his length.
He groans and leads me gently to rest over his face. My legs tremble on either side of his head, slightly shaky in anticipation.
He cradles both hands around my thighs. “Do you know how unbelievably sexy you are?”
The raw want in his tone shatters me.
“You’re one to talk,” I say.
He smiles, his cheeks blushing. Once I’m positioned over his face, I grip the headboard, close my eyes, and relax. Just like before, his expert tongue feels like heaven. He starts slow and soft, like he wants to tease me forever. Then his touch becomes firmer. The movements I make over him are small and slight. Drew is so, so good with the way he moves his head and his mouth and his tongue that I don’t have to do much. I simply glide along with him, the warmth and pressure building and building.
My breath turns ragged as the minutes pass. My head falls back while both of my hands grip the headboard for balance. My head spins, the pleasure is so all-consuming. It hits everywhere inside me, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. As the sensations intensify, I grow desperate. My gasps turn to moans, then screams. I grind against Drew’s face like the world is ending. Everything inside me grows hotter and hotter until I finally burst.
I come with a shout and a gasp, my thighs quivering. Drew doesn’t let up, though, not for a single second. He’s got me with his hands wrapped around both of my thighs. His tongue works like some sort of magical sex toy that never, ever loses steam.
When it ends, I’m so shaky that I almost fall over, but he braces me with both of his arms, then slides me down his chest. I cuddle up against him, and he plants a soft kiss to the top of my head.
Chest heaving as I catch my breath, I close my eyes. When I open them, my vision is blurry. I let out a giddy laugh as I glance up at him. It takes a few seconds before his grinning face comes into focus.
“That’s the fastest and hardest that’s happened in . . . honestly, I can’t even remember.” I laugh into his hot, slick skin. “That was . . . So. Freaking. Good.”
His smile turns sly as he maneuvers so that I’m lying with my back on the bed as his body hovers over mine. He kisses me for a long few seconds before sitting up and leaning over the side of his bed to pull his wallet out of his jeans pocket. He swipes a condom from it and rips open the packet with his teeth, then slides it on him.
Then he turns that dangerously smug stare back to me. “Let’s not be too quick to judge. I’ve still got a lot to prove.”