Page 58 of Steamy on Set

“And in that time, how many people have you slept with?”

He stops for a moment, taking the time to figure it out.

“It doesn’t matter.” Having likely come to a number that is more than the one he was just proud of, he decides against sharing.

“Oh no, fess up,” I say, clapping.

“Why?” He crosses his arms. “So you can slut shame me. You know there is nothing wrong with only wanting sex from someone, as long as you are honest about it.”

He isn’t wrong, but something about him doing it bothers me.

“I’m not slut shaming you, as long as we both can now agree that you are a fuck-boy.”

“I’m not, though.” His face hardens the same way his tone does. “Fuck-boys play with people’s emotions. They lie to themand manipulate them into sex. I don’t do any of that. I’m honest with what I’m looking for at all times, and upfront about it, too.”

Maybe he has a point. I swallow a big gulp of the alcohol, thinking on it. Yes, he does get around, but if he’s doing it the way he says, then there is nothing wrong with it.

“Okay, but why is that all you’re looking for?” Asking the question eases the bubble in my stomach a little at the thought of him just sleeping around.

“It takes a lot to earn my heart. I don’t give it freely. I’m not just looking for sex, but with most people that is all I end up wanting from them.”

What would it take to get Errol Davis to fall in love with you? Why do I want to know? Standing, he excuses himself to the bathroom. I down the rest of my drink and let the burn of the alcohol sooth me. By the time he comes back, all questions have faded away behind the buzz I have going on.

The music kicks up as the bar turns from a chilled lounge to a more active club. We have to raise our voices to be able to hear each other. After failing to keep up a conversation, we go silent as we look around.

“Want to dance?” he screams over the music, pointing to the back of the room. I follow him over to the floor as old school music thrums to life all around us. The people brave enough to start dancing before others grind and gyrate to the music close to their partners. I step in front of him, ushering for him to start us off, eager to see what he’s capable of.

He swivels his shoulders, his hips moving from side to side as he steps in beat to the rhythm of the song. Seeing him get into the music, I start to move, rolling my body while turning in a circle. When I am face to face with him again, he grabs my hand and pulls me closer. Resting the other one on my lower back, he guides me to be in step with him as we move. Standing just a breath apart, I shift in closer, closing the distance. Chestto chest, he looks down into my eyes as we dance against one another.

The music changes to a slow R&B song, causing us to sway in smaller steps to create space for more people joining the dance floor. Despite the fact that we are right against each other, it doesn’t feel like enough. I want our bare skin to be touching.

The lyrics sing out a story of love as I gaze into his eyes like it’s the first time I’m seeing them. The obsidian pools are layered with different emotions too hard for me to read. They are beautiful, just as breathtaking as the rest of him in this low lit room.

I tilt my head up while he lowers his down until we are almost touching. I want to kiss him. To press my lips against his. But I wait for him to make the move. We rock slowly, pressed against each other. He takes my other hand in his, now holding both of them.

It feels like everyone else in the room is gone, and it’s just us dancing to the sweet sounds of the harmonizing voices. The tip of his nose presses into mine, and my breath hitches. Just as I’m moving to close the gap, the song ends and a more upbeat one begins. The moment is gone, and we pull apart like it was never there in the first place.

We head back to our spots, only to see they are taken. Interpreting that as a sign to go, we head outside into the brisk night air. We stand in silence, waiting for the cabs we called to come. Looking everywhere but at each other, we are unsure about how to be around one another after that moment.

“You don’t have to come in tomorrow. What are you doing with your day off?” he asks, finally making eye contact.

“I don’t know.” I lean against the bar window. “I think maybe I’ll just decompress from all this. It’s still new to me and I am not quite used to it.”

He nods, looking over at the street.

“Call me if you want someone to talk to. I’ve gotten so used to seeing you every day, it’s going to be a little weird.”

I nod, feeling the same.

“Hey, did you ever talk to Mira?” I ask.

At first a sigh is his only response.

“I did. She owned up to the script change, but not the other stuff. She apologized for lying, but I just don’t feel like it’s enough.”

Well, at least one of us got an apology.

“I would push for her to be let go, but we don’t have time to find a replacement. If you were still in the department, you could have taken over as lead, and we could have, but we just have to keep her.”

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