Page 46 of Steamy on Set

I roll my eyes as I laugh.

“In all seriousness though, I don’t have what you have. When I walk into rooms to sell my scripts, I have to constantly remind myself that I should be there. I know my value, but I don’t always act on it,” he says.

I nod along, understanding how he could feel that way. Knowing that if I weren’t constantly praised despite my size and skin, I would probably think the same. Plopping my elbow on top of the couch, I rest my head on my hand and get more comfortable as I ready myself to dive into him.

“My turn,” I say in a sing song voice.

He tilts his head in my direction, gesturing for me to go.

“What do you value most and why?”

Lines are drawn on his forehead as he furrows his brows. I can see the story beginning to write itself there even before he speaks.

“Respect and honesty.”

I flick my wrist, rolling my hand towards him, urging him to go on. He looks at me, cheek twitching as he moves his mouth from left to right. With his fingers fiddling with each other in his lap, he seems completely unsure of himself. Scooting closer to him, I put a hand on his knee. Running his fingers over mine, he stares off into space.

“You kind of can’t have one without the other. You need to respect someone enough to be honest with them always, no matter how hard it is. And if you can’t be honest at all times, is there even respect there?” His eyes are caught on the wall behind me, staring into the painting. “I learned early that not all relationships have that.”

Pulling his hand back away from mine, he focuses his eyes back on me, determination glinting in them.

“My dad lied to my mom and me for a long time, and it cost us everything. That’s why those two things matter to me.”

Feeling like there is more to that answer, I break the rules of no follow-up questions and ask another.

“What happened?” Half expecting him not to answer, I’m surprised when he does.

“He got fired when I was ten. Which really is no big deal. Instead of telling us though, he got up every day, got dressed, and left the house like he had somewhere to go. We would sit around the table at dinner talking about our days, and without fail he would always have a story about work. Never once did he let us know what was going on. When the truth came out, he didn’t even come clean about it on his own. We found out when the bank came to repossess the house. No job, no money. He wasn’t paying any of the bills.”

I try to imagine the terror of what that must have felt like, and come up short. Having grown up wealthy, I never had to worry about financial security a day in my life.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m fine. I wouldn’t have shared if I weren’t.”

“Even still,” I ease back to my spot, “having that type of betrayal as a fundamental memory is terrible.”

“Yes, but it made me who I am today, and I wouldn’t change that.”

I can understand how he values those things, having now come to feel the same. If I were to enter into a relationship again, I need someone willing to respect me enough to let me make my own decisions, and be honest enough to deal with the consequences.

Getting a taste of his past makes me hungry for more. I eagerly wait my turn to bite into everything that is Errol as he goes. Asking me about my style, we ease into lighter conversation. When it’s my turn to go, I dig into his record collection and taste in music. From there, it’s easy banter as we go back and forth asking more and more of the other. When we finally get down to question number twenty-one, I look at the clock and see that hours have passed. We made it to 2:30 a.m.

“Okay, last question,” he says, kneeing my leg with his. “It’s a tough one.”

“Shoot.” I sit up from my slouch.

“How did you lose your virginity?”

The laugh vibrates through my chest as the memory pops to the front of my mind. I press my palm to my lips, trying to keep it contained, and then hold up one finger.

“It was…well, it was awkward.”

“As all first times are.”

“It was with my highschool sweetheart Daniel while we were on our senior trip. Cliché I know. But I thought it was better than waiting until prom. He literally bribed my roommate to give us the room by paying her five hundred dollars cash.”

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