Page 107 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

“From him it is,” Day said.

Cassidy’s focus drifted to Xander at the side of the stage, where the stylist misted him and roughened his hair until he appeared flushed, disheveled, and dangerously sexy.

The upcoming scene was an intimate one between Xander’s character and Arthur, played by Wyatt Stanis, an actor with too much confidence and charm.

Wyatt had been hovering near Xander all morning.

Laughing at any little thing he said, touching his back and shoulder when he spoke. Saying little flirty things that could pass as playful to an unsuspecting man.

Xander handled him with professionalism, being polite but distant enough to keep the line crystal clear.

A production assistant hurried past with a clipboard. “Closed set in five.”

Nonessential personnel began to leave. The intimacy coordinator, a soft-spoken woman named Rena, stepped onto the bedroom set and spoke with Wyatt and Xander in a hushed tone.

Cassidy turned his back before Xander removed his robe. He wasn’t interested in watching him film a romantic scene with another man.

He understood it was acting, knew the difference between performance and real life.

But knowledge didn’t make it easier.

Especially not after he’d tasted those lips, caressed his body, and held him in his arms while he’d slept.

Day glanced up at him. “You good?”

“M’fine.”

The director called, “Quiet on set.”

The stage fell silent.

“Roll sound.”

“Roll camera.”

“Camera rolling.”

“Scene one-twenty-six, take one.”

The clapboard snapped.

“Action.”

At first, Cassidy did pretty good ignoring Xander’s character speaking to Arthur in a sultry whisper and Wyatt answering in an annoyingly smooth voice—until the dialogue was replaced by shallow breaths.

Cassidy stiffened.

The scene turned erotic quickly.

The sound of sheets rustling filtered across the set as Wyatt’s deep moans blended with Xander’s soft ones.

“You want me, say it,” Arthur demanded.

“I do. Yes Cass…”

Cassidy whipped around. So did God.

Day’s brows shot up.