Page 42 of Method Acting

He laughed but never let go of my arm. Or my leg.

I stopped fighting it and just resigned myself to cuddling him, which of course, made him happy.

He was like a golden retriever puppy. Cute and adorable, but also a big clumsy oaf.

And one hundred percent used to getting what he wanted.

Insufferable.

“What was that?” he murmured.

“I said you’re insufferable.”

“Okay, you two,” Deirdre said, waving us forward. “Up here. Because you can’t seem to stop talking or touching each other, you’re going to do this exercise in front of the rest of us.”

Chase threw off my arm and leg, then jumped up to his feet. “Oh, thank god, he finally let me go.”

I growled, but it wasn’t worth the reply. I stood up and went to the front, opting to stand on the other side of Deirdre, away from Chase.

Surely whatever exercise this was couldn’t be worse than being wrapped around him...

“So,” Deirdre said. “You’re going to venture out into the public as a couple.”

Oh god.

It was so, so much worse.

“Like a trial run. Let’s see how the camera angles work, the sound quality, etcetera.” She held up her iPad. “We’ll be watching you here, live streaming it, okay?”

“Okay, the love of my life,” Chase said, using his theater voice. He held out his hands toward me.

“If you keep that up, this will be a reality TV Dexter episode,” I said. “Where I kill you on live stream.”

Chase just laughed. I was beginning to think him antagonizing me was his new favorite sport. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t half mind it either.

But as soon as the camera team was ready, Chase took my hand and pulled me out the door. “So, Elijah,” he said, using my character name. “What did you want to do after dinner tonight?”

We headed out across the courtyard, holding hands. In public. The two-person camera crew a few feet directly behind us, but still. It was weird.

“I don’t know, Dominic,” I replied. “Study, most likely.”

“There’s a twilight beach volleyball game. I’m playing, so you should definitely come watch.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, boyfriend,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze. “It’s what a good boyfriend would do.”

“If you were a good boyfriend, you wouldn’t make me go out where there are people.”

He laughed as we got to the street, and I realized we were heading for the taco truck.

“But you don’t work tonight, so . . .”

“No, but I do have to study.”

“I’ll help you study after.”

“Your idea of helping is very different from mine. Don’t you have an essay due?”

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