Page 56 of Method Acting

Chase and Amos, or is it Dominic and Elijah? Acting or real?

Chase doesn’t date. It’s all part of the act.

There’s no camera crew.

They look too cozy to be acting.

Someone at Shenanigans said they were all over each other.

No cameras rolling, who do you think they’re acting for?

Never noticed Amos before. He’s hot.

Well, that’s not humiliating. “Goddammit.”

There were some photos of Tucker and Didi too, though they weren’t even holding hands. Max and Holly too, though the comments were more about Max being cast with Holly when he already had a girlfriend and how hard it must be for her.

“Oooh,” Deirdre said, sliding into the room with a clap of her hands. “Publicity is hot today.”

Great. Awesome.

Publicity.

Not sure any of us were so enthusiastic about it.

“Filming starts tomorrow,” Deirdre said. “We’re gonna go through some final production stuff today and do some practice runs with the whole cast in the courtyard.”

I handed Chase the iPad, not wanting to see any more.

“Someone said you’re hot,” he noted. “I mean, they’re not wrong.”

I sighed. “Did you write that? Was it you?”

He laughed. “Nope. But I do concur.” He slid the iPad onto the next desk, then wrapped both arms around me, his chin still on my shoulder.

He was far too comfortable with this.

Deirdre came over for the iPad. “Well, you two look very relaxed.”

I made a point of trying to remove Chase’s arm from my waist and failing. “He’s like those dryer sheets,” I said. “You know the staticky ones that stick to everything. He’s like that.”

“He’s called me worse,” Chase mumbled, seemingly undeterred. “Staticky dryer sheet is a compliment coming from him.”

I sighed. “It’s not too late for a partner change, right?”

Chase held onto me harder and Deirdre waved me off. “You two are the leading couple right now. The public’s already invested. There’s no way you’re changing now.”

Chase laughed like he’d won, and I sighed. Deirdre went off to do whatever she needed to do. “You’re stuck with me,” Chase said. His lips were precariously close to my neck and I tried to shuck him off, but it just made him worse. “Plus, I like this whole boyfriend thing. It’s fun.”

“I could be a prime case study for Stockholm Syndrome,” I muttered. “Coerced into staying, now unable to leave. My tormentor believes I’ll love him if he annoys me enough.”

Chase just laughed and gave me a squeeze, and I resigned to him being stuck to me like glue for the rest of the class.

The fact I was beginning not to mind it was something I’d never tell him.

That it felt nice. That it was nice to rest my cheek against the top of his head when he had his head on my shoulder. That his knee on my thigh felt nice when we were reading scene outlines. That by mid-afternoon when he was tired, the way he weaseled himself in between my legs and leaned against me and closed his eyes felt especially good.

So I’d missed the contact, the closeness. The physical touch. It’d been too long since I’d been with anyone, and my body certainly liked the attention. Especially given the fact that Chase was bigger than me—more muscular, broader, and taller. He was Mr. Perfect Popularity.

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