Page 57 of A Reluctant Boy Toy
“A what?” Shocked at what I’d done—by what I’d considered doing—I let my hand fall, the spoon forgotten.
“You’ll find the exact same scene in romantic Asian television dramas. The hero and heroine are drinking coffee and she gets foam on her lip. The hero thumbs it off, tastes it, their eyes meet.”
“Do you watch a lot of those?”
“I do. I love them. Especially the costume dramas.” His eyes were dreamy until he suddenly cleared his throat. “I find it useful to study the acting.”
“Of course,” I said gently. “The acting. Then what?”
“The camera tightens on the heroine’s lips so the audience knows the hero is thinking about kissing her. Without dialogue, a thousand things are revealed about them.”
“Is that so?” I swallowed guiltily, wondering what I’d revealed about my thoughts to him. “Maybe I should check those out.”
“Beyond the NightandBlood Academyare the same thing. We live and die by building unresolved sexual tension. The couple you ship might not kiss until the last scene of the season. They might never—”
“Sounds like that’d be frustrating to watch.”
“Oh, it is. You can watch a hundred hours where nothing ever happens.”
“In that case, I can’t wait.” I spooned more yogurt. “Eat some more, please.”
He took another bite. “They’re going to send in a psychologist to evaluate me. Since I don’t remember what happened—”
“Would the outcome be different if you remembered?” He turned his head away. “The situation speaks for itself, Sebastian.”
“Okay,” he said, suddenly frosty, “so what if it does.”
I put the empty yogurt container aside. “What do you think it says?”
“Obviously that I need help.”
“Obviously.” I stood. “I should probably go. Morrigan’s waiting.”
“Wait. Are you leaving town?”
“I was thinking about it.” I met his gaze. “I’m not with the production anymore. I stayed in a motel last night because I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Tears sparkled on his lashes. “I feel like I ruined things. We were having such a good time, and I went and messed it up.” He brushed his face on his pillow. “That’s what I do, you know. Whenever something good comes along, I always find a way to ruin it.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. You’re still coming to Colorado. I’ll show you around the sanctuary.”
He looked up at me. “Do you have to go?”
My heart thundered. “Do you need me to stay?”
He looked away then. “I don’t need you to stay. I want you to stay. I wish you would. If I was blowing out a birthday candle—”
“I get it.” He made me laugh, I’d give him that. He made me laugh and worry and—now he made me want things that didn’t make sense.
Someone opened the door to Sebastian’s room.
“You must be Stone,” the man said as he walked in. “I’m Alastair Keye. Sebastian’s father.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” The man was probably only five years older than me. He was flawlessly dressed and self-possessed with a hipster beard of biblical proportions. Alastair Keye was powerful in the same way Sebastian was beautiful—divinely and effortlessly.
“I hear you’re an animal trainer.” He openly eyed my scars. “Are those scars the result of—”
“Dad!” Sebastian’s face caught fire. “That’s so rude. Oh my God.”
