Page 62 of Saving Pookie

Braxton and I are chilling in our hotel room, sipping on raspberry seltzers. We have about thirty minutes until we need to be at the beach for a group scene with the whole cast when I get a text from Gunnar.

Gunnar

Can we talk?

Pookie

I think you've said what you needed to say.

Pookie

See you at the beach.

Gunnar

Off camera...

Pookie

Are you alone?

Gunnar

It's just me

Pookie

Come up.

I toss the phone onto the bed and begin to pace, chewing on my thumbnail.

"You're making me nervous," Braxton says, his eyes following me as I continuously pass him on the bed. "Do you want to talk about what's on your mind?"

"I'm scared how he'll react."

"Gunnar?" He grabs my hand and pulls me to the bed, to stand above him. "You don't have to tell him anything you're not comfortable with. But we both saw his reaction when you mentioned being homeless. I think he's piecing it together on his own."

"Right." I nod. "But he's never given a shit about Cameron. He's just been a prop to rile me up. How does this change anything?"

"Because..." He stands up and places a gentle hand on each of my cheeks. "Gunnar is a prick. He's not a monster."

"What if you're wrong?" I ask quietly. "What if he runs straight back to the cameras?"

Braxton's lips hitch into a mischievous grin. "Then I'll beat his ass too."

"No offense," I steady my palm on his chest, "but I'm pretty sure Gunnar would kick your ass, and I'm afraid it wouldn't even be close."

He arches a brow. "These words you say sadden me. It almost makes me think I have something to prove."

"The only thing I need you to prove right now is that you have restraint."

"Never," he whispers, a familiar smile creeping over his lips. He lifts me by the chin and kisses me. And it never ceases to steal my breath.

"Please don't stop kissing on my behalf," Gunnar's voice lands like a shot through the heart.

"Fuck." Braxton gasps, prying his lips from mine. "It's not what it looks like. I'm not gay."

Gunnar's eyes practically roll into the back of his skull, which is about where I find my own eyes. "I mean, I kind of figured it out after I watched you exit the bathroom at Mr. Pinks with cum on your boots, so this is just clarification." He leans with his ass against the long dresser and crosses his arms. "I'm not here to discuss your sexuality, though."