No matter how many times Pete replayed his conversation with Kyle in his head, he still had no idea what to make of it. Or him, for that matter. In the three days since his “audition,” Kyle had kept Pete up at night in more ways than one. He just couldn’t figure him out. Not that he was a master at reading people, but he’d been in porn long enough to tell when someone was genuinely attracted to him and when they were just doing their job. But Kyle . . . Kyle showed elements of both, and it left Pete confused, uncertain, and really, really horny.
At this point, he would settle for knowing if he’d blown the audition or not. Kyle’s early dismissal of him didn’t bode well to say the least. So much for Pete’s concerns that they’d be having sex that night. Kyle hadn’t even deigned to do a lighting test with him. Pete seriously doubted he’d landed the gig without even getting in front of a camera.
He hadn’t heard anything from Colette yet—which was par for the course, considering how much she had going on at any given time—and could only imagine what she thought about it. She’d seemed willing to let Kyle pick his costar, but would she really cast Pete without seeing for herself how they worked together? Maybe if Kyle sang his praises, but after his cold dismissal, Pete doubted he’d received a glowing review.
That was the one thing that puzzled him the most. Why had Kyle walked away from him like that? Maybe he’d sensed Pete’s eagerness and been totally creeped out. There was a thin line between flirting with your coworkers and slobbering all over them, and Pete had gotten drool on it.
His face burned with embarrassment. God, what was he, an amateur? Getting all worked up over a kiss like that. He routinely had sex on camera. In front of an audience. For the whole world to see. A kiss should have been the equivalent of brushing hands with a stranger on the bus. And it wasn’t even an actual kiss. It was an almost-kiss. A nearly-kiss. A hypothetical kiss that couldn’t become a theoretical one until more data was gathered.
Shit. He was becoming more and more convinced he’d blown it. And to think he’d really believed he had a shot. Colette had seemed so certain that Kyle and he would hit it off, and if the other potentials were any indication, he was the right physical type. Of all the things he’d imagined could go wrong with his audition—and his brain had conjured up a lurid cornucopia of possibilities—he’d never imagined being too attracted to his costar would be one of them.
Maybe this was for the best. Kyle engendered all sorts of uncomfortable emotions in Pete, and if one encounter with him had thrown Pete this far off his game, there was no telling what weeks of filming would do. Even as Pete thought that, disappointment rattled in his lungs.
Somehow, this was all his ex’s fault.
Pete heaved a sigh that made his mattress groan beneath him. He’d spent the better part of the past hour staring constellations into the popcorn on his ceiling. Not five minutes had gone by without his thoughts turning to Kyle.
“This is pathetic,” he grumbled. “I’m pathetic.”
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, intent on doing something with his day besides moping. Between work, school, and his other work, he rarely had a morning to himself.
His socked feet made soft sounds on the hardwood floor as he padded to the door. He passed plain, pine furniture, stacks of books, and old band posters on the way. His Programming Logic textbook was open on his desk next to empty coffee mugs and a well-worn copy of Slaughterhouse-Five. His room might have belonged to any college kid in the city, if it weren’t for the manila envelope on his dresser containing a stack of bloodwork. His job didn’t require him to get tested, but he did once a month anyway. Better safe than sorry.
He poked his head into the hallway and listened. The town house was silent except for the occasional muffled noise from their next-door neighbors. No one was home. He trundled down the stairs and into the microscopic kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. It was barren, as per usual, sporting only ketchup packets, milk, a Chinese take-out container, and a jar of wilted pickles in miasmic juice.
He grabbed the take-out container and opened it. Damn. White rice. He poked it with a finger. Nope, more like tiny white rocks. He tossed it into the trash, stomach gurgling. He really needed to learn how to cook.
As if on cue, the front door opened. His mom stumbled in, laden with grocery bags.
“Mom,” Pete cheered. He rushed to help her. “You brought food!”
“Hello to you too.” Mom dumped plastic bags onto the dining room table. The sunlight streaming through the windows underscored the laugh lines fanning out around her warm brown eyes. “Help me put these away, and I’ll make you something. I swear, you get skinnier every time I look at you.”
Pete sidestepped that last comment and hauled the bags into the kitchen. Their groceries primarily consisted of frozen and boxed dinners—Mom was about as skilled in the kitchen as he was—but she’d also bought eggs and bagged salad, which he stashed in the fridge. Unpacking took less than ten minutes.
When he’d finished, Mom ran a hand through hair the same shade of honey brown as Pete’s, with some gray peppered in. “What would you like?”
“Don’t go to any trouble.” Pete shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sure you’re ready for bed. I can make food myself.” He glanced at the clock above the stove. It was nine in the morning, which meant Mom had gotten off the night shift at the hospital two hours ago. She’d probably gone straight to the store after. She must have known somehow that he’d be too busy sulking to do it. Guilt washed through him, icy and bracing.
“Nonsense,” Mom reprimanded, shooing him out of the kitchen. “Even I can operate a microwave. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t shove nuclear garbage down my son’s throat?”
Pete laughed. “I’ll take that over the organic kale and acai crap Aunt Caren is always pushing on us.” He took a seat on a barstool next to the counter and watched Mom wrestle a TV dinner out of its box. She was blinking too much, light eyelashes sweeping over her eyes.
“Are you tired?” He wanted to slap himself as soon as the words left his mouth. “Of course you are. Can’t someone else take the night shift for once?”
“Eh, I don’t mind. The differential pay makes it worth it. Gotta put my boy through college.” She reached over and ruffled his hair.
“Mooom,” Pete whined, attempting to flatten his unruly waves. “Is that necessary?”
“I’m your mother. Annoying you is my job, and I take it very seriously.” She leaned against the counter while the microwave buzzed behind her. “Do you have class today?”
Pete shook his head.
“Work?”
“Not until tomorrow. They put me on the late shift.”
“Well, now we have something in common.”
“You mean besides our astonishing good looks?”
Mom snorted. “Much as I hate to say it, you got your looks from your father. Except for my luscious locks, of course. How is Dad, by the way? Have you heard from him recently?”
Pete shook his head. “The next time I can expect a call is in February, when my birthday rolls around. And I guarantee it won’t be on the right day.”
“Hmm. Well, at least he gave you those beautiful blue eyes. All he ever gave me was a headache.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Pete hesitated and then dropped his gaze to the counter. “I actually did hear from him recently. He had news.”
“Oh?”
He fidgeted on his stool and peeked up for her reaction. “Melissa is pregnant.”
Mom was peering at the counter, fingering one of the colorful tiles embedded in it, but at that her head whipped up. “What?”
The microwave dinged, and she jumped away like it had shocked her. She opened and closed her mouth before turning around and pressing the door button. She gingerly lifted the steaming container and plopped it in front of Pete along with a plastic fork she dug out of the drawer next to the sink.
He looked from her to the fork and back again. “He sent me an email about it, along with a photo. She’s huge. I guess he didn’t think to say something sooner. Should I not have told you?”
“No, no,” she said, waving him off but not quite meeting his gaze. “I’m happy for your father. And his girlfriend.” She paused. “How huge are we talking?”
“Oh, colossal. Seemed like she might pop.”
She laughed. “Good for her, and for Dad. He gets another shot at raising a family, assuming he doesn’t walk out on her too.” She clamped her mouth shut and then tried again. “That’s wonderful news. Are you excited? You won’t be an only child anymore.”
Pete shrugged. “I don’t think it’s hit me yet. For all I know, I might never meet the kid. Dad hasn’t visited in years, and I don’t have a burning desire to go to Ohio.”
“I don’t know, kiddo. I hear it’s for lovers.”
“That’s Virginia.”
Mom’s brow puckered. “Is it?”
“Yeah. No clue why.” Pete picked up the fork and twirled it between his long fingers. “What about you? Excited for him?”
She mirrored his shrug. “To be perfectly frank, I don’t know what he’s thinking having a child so late in life. We had enough trouble when you were born, and we were spring chickens. It’s all fun and games until you’re changing dirty diapers at three in the morning while an infant squalls in your ear.”
Pete wrinkled his nose. “Was I that bad?”
“No, actually, you were pretty quiet. Some things never change. Though by God, when you got going, you could blow a house down.”
Pete cut into the gravy-covered meat product in front of him. The bite he took was scalding on the edges and lukewarm in the center, but he choked it down without complaint. “You know, you could try dating yourself.”
“I would, but I think the government frowns on that.”
Pete huffed around another mouthful. “You know what I mean. If Dad can start a whole new family, the least you can do is have dinner with a few comely strangers.”
“Your father didn’t start a new family. You’re still his child, and that’s never going to change.”
“Well, what else would you call it? New girlfriend. New house on the other side of the country. Now a new kid. Sounds like starting over to me.”
“He’s just making some additions.”
“However you label it, the message is pretty clear. He doesn’t need us. He’s moved on.” He tried to keep his tone light, but bitterness seeped through.
Mom moved to stand in front of him. “Dad and I tried to make it work. We really did, but sometimes all the effort in the world can’t fix something that’s just not meant to be. I don’t think he was ready to be a father. God only knows I wasn’t prepared for my twentysomething boyfriend to knock me up on my thirtieth birthday. But then, life seldom throws you curveballs when you’re ready for them. I’m just happy the lack of a strong father figure didn’t have any effect on you.”
Pete had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. A porn star with an absent father. Sometimes the jokes wrote themselves. “The least he could do is help us pay the bills around here. This used to be his house too until he up and left it.”
“It doesn’t work like that, unfortunately. The second you hit eighteen, the checks stopped coming. Besides, we get by just fine, don’t we?” She ruffled his hair again, and this time he didn’t protest. “Though I do wish you’d let me help you more with your tuition. If you did, you could quit your job and focus on finishing your degree. School should be your top priority right now.”
Pete offered her a lopsided smile. “We’ve talked about this. I want to pay my own way. If you were covering all of my tuition, you couldn’t save for retirement, and I’m not having that. You already let me live here for free. I can take care of the rest. Besides, LACC isn’t an expensive school.”
She sighed. “All right. But if it starts to be too much, you’ll let me know, right? Honestly, I’m not sure how you’re pulling it off. The college fund your father and I set up only paid for your first year. A part-time position at a coffee place shouldn’t even cover your books.”
“Oh, I manage,” Pete said mildly. “Money always seems to turn up when I need it.”
“You must have an angel watching over you. Speaking of which, are we on for church this Sunday?”
“Yeah, of course. And the Sunday after that, and the one after that.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, prompting him to scarf down the rest of his food and climb to his feet. “I’m going to study. Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”
She nodded, but she was already eyeing the dishes in the sink.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said. “I’ll do those. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Satisfied, he headed back upstairs to his room. The second the door was shut behind him, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was a text message. He almost hoped it was Sana, his manager, telling him she needed him to work today after all. Even brewing coffee would be better than brooding in his room.
He tapped on the text, and a second later nearly dropped his phone. It was from Colette. Clammy sweat sprang up on his palms.
Are you free to talk?
He tried not to take work calls at home, whenever possible. His mom had bat-like hearing when it came to things he’d rather she didn’t know. He could leave, but he’d just told her he didn’t have work or school today, and his fingers were itching to hit the Call button.
Sucking in a breath, he willed himself to remain calm. This was probably just a courtesy call. She needed to let everyone who auditioned know the results. It didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Even as he thought that, his heartbeat tripled.
His fingers danced across the keyboard. I’m free. Call whenever.
He stared at the screen, tense with impatience. Ten excruciating seconds later, an incoming call popped up. He tapped the answer symbol and then held his phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Jaden, it’s Colette,” she said needlessly. “How’ve you been?”
“Great. You?”
“Peachy. How are your classes? And your mom?”
He blinked. Colette only bothered with small talk when she was in an exceptionally good mood. Maybe she wasn’t calling to reject him after all. “They’re both fine. What’s up? I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”
“Yeah, sorry for taking so long. I meant to tell you the good news sooner, but Darko and I had some details to iron out.”
Good news. The words hung in front of him, each letter ten feet tall and flashing neon colors. He fumbled behind him until his hand connected with his bed, and he sank onto it. He waited for her to continue, almost bursting out of his skin. When she didn’t, he lowered his voice and prompted, “So, I got the part?” I get to see Kyle again?
“Well . . .”
The neon letters popped like bubbles. Oh God, that was embarrassing. She must’ve been calling about something else. He knew it wasn’t technically a competition, but this sure felt like losing.
He swallowed. “Ah, I see. Thanks for letting me know. I’m sorry if I let you down. I know you really wanted me for this.”
“No, you misunderstand. You got the part.”
“Wait, seriously?” He glissaded right over her last words in his excitement. “Please tell me you’re not just playing with my emotions.”
“I never play around when it comes to my work,” she intoned, but there was a smile in her voice. “Congratulations.”
“Oh my God, thank you.” He almost couldn’t believe it. He must have done something right after all.
“Don’t thank me. You earned it.”
“Did Kyle say anything about me?” he blurted out, caught up in giddiness. He slapped a hand over his mouth. Wow, way to sound like he was still in high school.
To his surprise, Colette answered seriously. “He said you did brilliantly and that the two of you have off-the-charts chemistry. I look forward to seeing it for myself.”
Pete’s breath wedged in his throat. It seemed the attraction wasn’t just on his end. Kyle felt it too.
“Anything else?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, did he have any feedback for me? I’m always looking to improve.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” She chuckled. “He said you were charming, in a guileless way. And cute. The connection was instant, according to him. He made a few other colorful comments that I won’t repeat because I’m pretty sure the acts he described are illegal in the state of California. But, needless to say, he wants to work with you.”
He flushed, but for once, it wasn’t with embarrassment. A hot, tingling sensation slithered through him and settled between his legs. “That’s . . . wow, great.”
“If the feeling is mutual, I’m going to offer you the role. I’m guessing from your breathlessness that it is.”
He almost choked on his own tongue in his haste to answer. “Yes, the feeling is mutual.”
“Then congratulations, Jaden. You’re the newest star of Heat Wave.”
“Thank you so much,” he gushed. “I won’t let you down. I promise I’ll—”
“There is one thing, however,” she interrupted. “A contingency, so to speak.”
His excitement dampened as if it had its own personal rain cloud. “All right. What is it?”
“Darko said . . . How shall I put this? He said he kept getting the urge to pin you down.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” In fact, from the moment Pete had met him, he’d had a strong desire for Kyle to do exactly that.
“Down, boy. He meant it in an ‘oh shit, this guy’s gonna bolt’ kind of way. He said you seemed a little jumpy and tense.”
Pete started to deny it only to realize he couldn’t. Kyle had thrown him from the moment he’d laid eyes on him, and rather than try to hide it, he’d pretty much told Kyle to his face. Shit. “If he felt that way, why’d he pick me?”
“He must’ve seen potential in you. Or maybe his dick was doing the talking. Who knows. The point is, you’re his top choice, but we have a runner-up on standby just in case. Chaz, to be precise. I’m willing to give Kyle the benefit of the doubt when he says you’re the one—mostly because I thought you were the right pick as well—but believe me, I’ll replace you if I have to.”
That should have sobered Pete, but he was too busy wrestling with an insane spike of jealousy at the idea of someone taking his role. “What do I have to do to prove myself? Whatever it takes, I’m there.”
“I like how resolute you sound. So, here’s the deal: we were originally going to start promoting Heat Wave with a photo shoot, but now we’re going to jump right into filming and save the publicity stuff for later. We’ll start with a promotional teaser, like a movie trailer. Nothing serious, just a five-minute thing to get you both acquainted with your characters and give the people something to anticipate. You won’t even have to be naked for it. You and Darko will fool around a bit and see how you work together in front of a camera. If Darko is satisfied with your performance, the part is yours. Sound good?”
His heart didn’t know if it wanted to race or skip. He should be devastated. Kyle liked him, but not enough to pick him outright. Somehow, that was worse than being rejected.
Instead of discouragement, however, determination bubbled up in him. He needed to prove himself. He would prove himself. And when he was finished, Kyle would be the one left thinking about it for days.
“When do we begin?”