Locked (PresLocke Series Book 2) (5 page)

Ron crossed his arms over his chest and fumed up at Ace, and that was when I glanced over at the men standing on the opposite side of the podium we were gathered around, and caught Russ’s eyes. They were narrowed on me and his lips were drawn in a thin line, and I could feel the judgment in them as I wished to God the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

“Bullshit,” Ace finally exploded. The word boomed around the stage and echoed off the walls.
Jesus,
I had never seen Ace like this. “I’ve delivered that speech perfectly at least ten out of the twelve times you’ve made me shoot it. This has got
nothing
to do with my acting, and you and I both know it.”

Ron’s face had turned crimson, and he looked as though smoke was about to come out of his ears as he took in a belabored breath. “Take twenty, get your shit together, and be back on set in thirty,” he told Ace, and when Ace brushed by him and marched toward the far exit, Ron turned his attention on us. “The rest of you, get something to eat and be back in thirty also. If you’re late, I’m locking the door. Got it?”

As everyone started to break up and head off set, Ron walked to the opposite exit muttering about needing a drink, and I spotted Russ turning to leave.

“Hey, Russ. Wait up!” I called out, jogging after him. He hadn’t spoken to me when I’d arrived this morning, but we’d all been in such a rush to get ready for the shoot that I hadn’t had time to ask him how his weekend was…or, for that matter, the reason he was looking at me like I was an alien.
 

He stopped and waved to one of the guys we’d hung out with after work a few times, and then turned to see me coming to a stop opposite him. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to be the one to initiate a conversation, I slipped one of my hands into the pocket of my white dress slacks and flashed him a smile, hoping to ease us back into the friendship that had been developing between us.

“How’s it going, man?” I asked. “Did you have a good weekend?”

Russ’s mouth opened as though he were about to say something, and then he shut it again and turned on his heel to leave.
What the…?
I reached for his wrist and pulled him back around, and when he glanced down to the hand I had on him, I quickly removed it.

“Yeah, might be best if you keep your hands to yourself,” he said. “I wouldn’t want your boyfriend to get jealous and punch me out. Lord knows Ace Locke could do major damage to someone’s face.”

I flinched at that and shook my head. “Come on, Russ. You know he’s not like that. I want to talk to you for a minute. Want to get—”

“I’m busy,” he said, and went to walk off again.
 

Shiiiit
.

I stepped around in front of him and frowned. “Russ.”

“I’m busy, Dylan. I called yesterday to talk. You didn’t seem to think I was worth your time then so…hey, no skin off my back.”

“It’s not like that. Yesterday was…it was…insane, is what it was. I didn’t have time to talk to—”

“How long have you been fucking him? Locke, that is. Or is it the other way around? I have to say…I’m curious, as is the rest of the world. And aren’t you the one who told me you weren’t ready to jump into a relationship right now? Yeah…that’s obvious.”
 

Russ’s question was so blunt and so direct that my words stumbled and stuttered to an abrupt stop. His eyes were locked on mine, and right then I knew this was where our friendship was about to end.
 

It wasn’t as though I’d consciously decided “that’s it, we can no longer be friends.” But as Russ stood there expecting me to give him details on my relationship with Ace, intimate details, I was aware there was no way I was going to give him shit. And there was no way a friend would act the way he was.

I owed him no explanation. We hadn’t been dating; we’d
barely
formed a friendship. But here he was expecting me to what? Explain myself? Gossip? Gloat?
 

Well, he was in for a vast disappointment. I started to back away from him and shook my head.
Unfuckingbelievable.
“See you around, Russ.”

I turned on my heel, ready to go and track down Ace in the lunch tent, when I heard Russ call out, “It was at his birthday, wasn’t it?” But I didn’t bother looking back.

* * *

A FUCKING DISASTER.
That was exactly what this morning’s shoot had turned into. Ron had been impossible from the first word out of my mouth, and everything that came after was just another thing he could get annoyed over.
 

I wasn’t an idiot. I was well aware this was his way of telling me quite pointedly how frustrated he was that the most recent press our upcoming movie had received revolved around its main star and his costar, but that was too damn bad. There was no way I was about to let the chance to date Dylan pass me by because it was slightly inconvenient.
Okay, maybe a whole lot inconvenient.
But despite what I’d told Dylan about not being allowed to date costars, the truth of the matter was, it wasn’t illegal. It wasn’t written in our contracts. It was just…well, frowned upon due to the media circus that often followed—and most certainly had with us.

Yeah, and they are just getting started.

I pushed the piece of plain boiled chicken around the plastic container it had arrived in, and could feel the beginning of a tension headache throbbing in the base of my skull. I needed to get a handle of myself. This was just the beginning of what promised to be a
very
trying few months. It was day two of the press discovering I was seeing someone, and it was only a matter of days—hell, even hours until they put two and two together and realized the gorgeous guy I’d had in my room in nothing but a towel was the same man currently gracing billboards for Calvin Klein nationwide.
 

I sure hoped Dylan knew what he’d said yes to…because it was only going to get more intense from here on out.

“Excuse me? Is this seat taken?”
 

I glanced up to see the man who’d just been on my mind standing beside me with a concerned look on his face, probably wondering if I’d cooled off yet. After the spectacle with Ron I couldn’t blame Dylan for being cautious, and considering the wide berth I’d been given here in the lunch tent from the cast and crew, it was obvious they were also waiting to see what exactly was going to happen next.
 

But was there really any question? Was Dylan actually worried I’d say no, he couldn’t sit with me?
Sorry, but not a damn chance.
What would be the point of that? Or any of this, for that matter, if I sent him away? Everyone was already watching and gossiping, if the murmurs now reaching my ears were any indication.
 

I managed a crooked grin and then indicated the chair opposite me with my fork. “It will be once you sit your sweet ass in it.”

The worried expression Dylan had been wearing eased as his lips tipped up in a slow smile.
 

“Sweet, huh?” he said as he sat opposite me, placing his plate down in front of him. I looked longingly at the steak and fries and nodded.
 

“Sweet, tight, mine. Take your pick.”

Dylan looked from his left to his right before bringing his eyes back to mine with a raised eyebrow.
Poor guy isn’t quite sure what he’s allowed to do here. Or what I
want
him to do. Well, time to rectify that.

I reached across the table, laid my hand over his, and squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s okay to talk to me, you know.”

Dylan leaned in and lowered his voice. “That’s kind of ironic coming from you, don’t you think? Just last week I wasn’t even able to look in your direction.”

“Yeah, but things have changed,” I told him as he turned his hand over and our fingers entwined. “I’m pretty sure most people know you do more than just
look
in my direction now.”

I added a flirty wink, and it had the desired effect. Dylan’s cheeks flushed and he laughed. “Aren’t you worried someone will take a photo?”

“Of what? Us holding hands? This is far less scandalous than you close to naked in my hotel room…” I let my eyes linger over Dylan’s body and then back up to see him shaking his head at me. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No… What? Tell me.”

“I’m just surprised how calm you are right now, I suppose.”

“Calm?” I said. “I’m sorry, but were you not at this morning’s shoot?”

Dylan raised his eyes to mine, and his lips quirked. “No, I mean…yes, I was there. I don’t mean that. Ron is obviously pissed about this and was taking it out on you. But what I mean is”—once again he scanned our immediate surroundings—“surely you know everyone in here is watching us right now. Talking about us.”
 

Dylan looked so scandalized that I couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped me. “Yes…and? Ashamed of me, Daydream?”

“Oh, please. Who in their right mind would be ashamed to be with you?” My stomach flipped at those words, but then it tightened when he added, “It’s just all the speculation they’re doing. It’s in their eyes every time they look from you to me. Hell, Russ just asked me who fucks—”

When Dylan bit off his words and took in a breath, I didn’t need him to keep talking to know what he’d been about to say. Of course that blond asswipe had gone there, and before I could stop myself, I asked, “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Dylan said, and then frowned as he withdrew his hand.

Shit
.
What the hell is the matter with me?
I hadn’t meant to sound accusatory. And I knew Dylan wouldn’t have said anything. My question was just a knee-jerk reaction. Something that had been ingrained in me for so long that it was hard to ignore. “Hey? I’m sorry. Of course you didn’t. I just—”

“I get it,” Dylan said. “Habits are hard to break. You’re used to people running their mouths. But Ace?”

“Yeah?”
 

“That’s not going to be me. I would never do that to you. Hurt you like that.”

As I picked up the knife to cut into the bland chicken in front of me, I knew that was the truth. Dylan was actually doing everything in his power
not
to hurt me. He was standing by my side publicly while we dealt with the insanity that had descended on us, when he could have left at the first sign of madness.
 

I felt like an ass. I hated that I’d let my frustration at the situation make me snap at him, when really all that had kept me halfway sane through my hellish morning was the knowledge that I could openly enjoy my lunch with this man. Everyone else be damned. So I reached across to his plate and stole several of his French fries. Dylan stared at me as I chomped on one, and then he arched an eyebrow.

“Oh please,” he said. “Help yourself. I didn’t want those at all.”

I picked up another and munched it down before aiming a most contrite expression his way. “You didn’t actually expect to sit there eating steak and fries while I eat boiled chicken and kale without sharing, did you?”

Dylan cut a piece of his T-bone and shoveled it between his lips. As he chewed on it he grinned at me, and I was relieved to be back in his good graces.

“Not at all,” he said, and then licked his lips. “What’s mine is yours.”

My cock twitched at his obvious connotation, and since I didn’t want our first public kiss—
or groping, for that matter
—to be across a lunch table on set, I settled for stealing another one of his fries and biting down into it before saying, “That, Mr. Prescott, is very good to know.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said with a mischievous grin, and if there was anyone else lingering in the lunch tent after that, I couldn’t have said, because I only had eyes for the man across from me.
 

5

LOUD AND PROUD

“DON’T BE MAD,” Ace said, from where he stood in the center of his trailer zipping up his bag. It was the end of the worst day we’d had on set—so far, anyway—and with the tension thick among the other cast members, I’d come over to Ace’s trailer to shower and get changed.
 

I looked up from where I’d been flipping through one of Ace’s muscle mags. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Because half of your daily exercise is about to get cut out.”

“Half of my… What are you talking about?”

Ace flipped open the blinds and pointed to a sleek black Town Car idling next to his SUV. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to walk home anymore, so when you’re not with me, you’ll be in that.”

“Why can’t I walk home? It’s less than a mile.”

“Remember the crowd we hit outside this morning?”

“Yeah…”

“Get used to it. They’ll probably be outside the studio exits now too, and I can’t have you mobbed.”

I tossed the magazine on the couch beside me and walked over to Ace, my hands going to his hips. “The only reason I’d be mad is if you were cutting my nightly exercise,” I said.

“Not a chance.”

“Good. Then I’ll behave and not complain about a driver.”

Ace grinned and his hands went to my ass, pulling me forward for a kiss. “I hate you won’t be in my bed tonight,” he murmured against my mouth.
 

“I’d rather not be there while Roger tears you a new asshole. Plus, I should sleep in my own bed one of these days.”

With a groan, he pushed me away. “Not a fan of either of those things, but…”

“Gotta face ’em, though I may have to put on one of your films to keep me company. Call me after? Let me know Roger didn’t strangle you with his bare hands?”

Ace let out a laugh as he grabbed his bag and then held open the door for me. “Nah, he’s all bark and no bite. But I’ll call you anyway.”

As we headed out of the trailer and to the cars, I couldn’t help the twinge of sadness at having to go our separate ways, even if it was only for a night. It felt like we’d lived a lifetime over the past few days. Those events had cemented Ace’s presence in my life in a way that, if I stopped and thought about it too much, could’ve scared me off at the rate things were moving. But it all just felt…right. We weren’t rushing; we were simply getting to know each other, and could I help it that I wanted to spend all my time with the gorgeous man beside me?