Page 41 of Love: Take Two

The mischievous glint in Tabitha's eye tells me she'll do nothing of the sort, and I almost feel bad for him. Acting opposite Tabitha can be intimidating in any setting, but when it's skin to skin? I have a feeling she won't be the only person with a crush by the end of the day.

"So, how does this usually work?" Lucy asks, sitting on the other double bed to face Dean.

"Do you invite them to your room to see your paintings? Show them how 'deep' you are? A true tortured soul."

Lucy scoots closer to Dean, who stays silent, his jaw clenched. His hands fist the bedding.

"I bet you ask to draw them next. First, a portrait to show you're watching. That you're the first person to truly see them. Maybe the only person." Lucy's words are filled with disdain, even as she yanks off her sweatshirt to reveal a paper-thin camisole that doesn't hide her lack of a bra.

"And then you push for more. Maybe a sketch of me topless. Something tasteful, like a real-life Jack and Rose."

Lucy laughs, and we can see the anger burning in Dean's eyes.

"No one said you had to come," he growls. "If that's what you think of me, you could've just said no."

Still laughing, Lucy shakes her head. She's toeing off her sneakers and unbuttoning her jeans. Dean is a statue.

"That's where you're wrong, Dean. We're stuck together for three months. Three months with no one but a skeleton crew around and hours of the day to fill once we're done with our tasks.

"We don't have to like each other—I clocked your 'starving artist' routine a mile away—but I definitely have to cum."

She stands up now, shimmying her jeans down her hips to reveal the scantest pink panties.

"So let's cut the bullshit and give each other what we both want."

With that, Lucy pounces. She presses her lips against Dean's and rakes her hands through his hair.

It's an angry kiss, and he flounders a moment before his hands finally come to rest on her hips. It starts as a bare caress, but the hungrier the kiss gets, the tighter his fingers grip her full ass.

"And cut!" Edward yells.

Lucy and Dean disappear, replaced by Tabitha and Yong-rae. They're a pile of tangled limbs, and Yong-rae quickly pulls himself from under Tabitha, blushing profusely. I can see his hands shaking on the monitor.

"Your client is doing well," I murmur. Noah jumps, as if my voice startled him from a trance. I snort.

"Noah Park, did you just get lost in a scene? I'll let Tabitha know you're a fan."

He chuckles, but something in his expression gives me pause. Helooks…agitated?

"Uh…" he stammers, "Yeah. She's doing a great job. And thank goodness Yong-rae doesn't have many lines."

Noah stands abruptly, nearly stumbling over the legs of his chair.

"I'm going to check on him, actually. Make sure he doesn't need a cup or something."

He practically sprints away, holding the front of his jacket closed.

He shouldn't feel embarrassed; few men could get through an intimate scene with Tabitha without at leastsomereaction. And I shouldn't feel that twinge of irritation that Noah, too, succumbed to her charms. She's not only beautiful; she's one hell of an actor. Our connection—no matter how intense it felt, no matter how long the memory has lingered—is obviously better left in the past.

Chapter twenty-two

Noah

Itug my jacket a little tighter as I pass the sound crew on their way to reset the scene.

Instead of checking on Yong-rae like I should, I slip into the nearest restroom to assess the damage. One look in the mirror at the high color in my cheeks and the light sheen of sweat on my brow confirms my suspicions: Awa could likely tell I was…excited. If not that specifically, she knewsomethingwas up. I looked guilty as fuck, hunched over and running off like that.

When I release the fabric, my dick stands proud and insistent, pushing against the zipper of my pants like a Xenomorph trying to burst through a poor astronaut's chest. I hastily turn on the cold water and splash some on my face.