Page 28 of Method Acting

Yeah, this isn’t so bad at all . . .

His hand was big and strong, calloused from the gym. Warm and, man, the human touch felt nice.

We watched the whole next episode with our hands joined, resting a bit on his thigh and mine. It wasn’t weird...

Well, the only weirdness was that it wasn’t weird. That it felt completely natural. Nice, even.

He left after the next episode ended, and I showered and got into bed, thinking about how he’d sung that Les Mis song, thinking about how his hand felt so good in mine, and wondering if I’d have to kiss him tomorrow.

If I was dreading it. Or if that tightness in my belly was something else.

So, as it turns out, the intimacy exercises Deirdre had in mind were exactly what I feared they’d be.

“Chase and Amos,” she said. “Stand together as if you’re waiting for someone to get out of class. You’ve got time, you’re relaxed, and no one else’s around.”

Chase parked his ass against a desk and pulled me between his legs, one hand on my hip, his other hand holding mine, our fingers lazily interlocked. It was casual, relaxed.

“Perfect,” Deirdre said. “Now face each other.”

“Oh good,” I mumbled. “More staring exercises.”

“Yes, more staring exercises,” Deirdre said. “Get used to it. Look into each other’s eyes as if you love him.”

I would... I just had to roll my eyes first.

Chase chuckled and tugged on my hand, making me focus. And we did the staring thing.

I understood it built trust and it helped build a bond, but staring into his blue eyes, seeing every fleck of gold and black, it felt... personal.

Then Deirdre was beside us and she put a notebook to my lips. “Hold this and lean in the way you’d kiss him. Keep the notebook in place, so there’s no lip-touching. Hold eye contact. There are varying stage kisses,” she said. “There is an art to the choreography of a stage kiss. How to position faces, how to create the illusion of a kiss, but sometimes it calls for actual lip contact.”

I knew intimacy exercises were a real thing, actors did them all the time. There were even professional intimacy coaches and scene coordinators on most sets. But god, this was crazy.

I took the notebook, keeping it pressed to my lips, and pretended to kiss him.

The jerk smiled.

I wanted to hit him with the notebook.

But as weird as it was, it did help with getting used to having our faces close together, having him in my personal space, and mimicking the action of a quick kiss.

It was about becoming familiar. For this to become a habit so it looked natural.

Then we had to switch positions. Me leaning against the table, Chase had to hold the notebook. It was all pretty much the same, and after five minutes, it did kinda feel like it was no big deal.

Boring, even.

Then it was a piece of paper. No notebook, just a single sheet of paper.

More intimate, yet still a barrier between us. I could feel his lips through the paper, but there was no direct lip contact. A little unnerving at first, but after a few minutes, it felt fine.

He kept making funny faces with his eyes. Every time we leaned in to fake a kiss, he’d go cross-eyed or wink or raise one eyebrow. I don’t know if he was just trying to lighten the mood, or make it less serious to make me more comfortable, but it worked.

It made me kind of mad that it worked.

It made me kind of mad that I liked it.

“Okay, guys, we’re going to try this,” Deirdre said. She handed us a pack of pretzel sticks. The crunchy kind that was about six inches long, lightly salted.

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