Page 31 of Hold Me Under (Water, Air, Earth, Fire 1)

Ethan

The elevator opens on an ornate, classical lobby with columns and towering potted palms and paintings of the view across the street.

As if he’s nothing but thrilled to be here, Victor straightens up and flashes that heart-slaying, crooked grin. An easy confidence carries him into the lobby, where he shakes his father’s hand, then kisses both cheeks of the Italian woman next to him.

“Welcome Mr. Lang, Mr. Faulks.” For a second, I don’t recognize the name of my alias. “I’m Emi, director Campagna’s assistant. If you’ll follow me this way, we’d like to do a quick screen test before lunch so our commercial crew can assess your complexions and heights for cinematography and wardrobe.”

She ushers us through the lobby and down a dark-paneled hall. Worry tugs at me when Werner doesn’t follow. I thought we’d be under constant supervision, to provide a safety net in case we mess up. Apparently, we’re on our own.

As if on cue, Emi turns around and walks backward down the hall. Since I’m in front, she zeroes in on me. “We’re preparing lunch. Does Victor have any allergies I should phone down?”

Shit. I’ve never seen him eatanything. I’m starting to realize a lie this complex would be impossible to perfect in the time we were given and everyone but me knew it. They just didn’t tell me, because they knew I’d back out.

I glance over my shoulder, but Victor is walking ten feet behind me, looking at his phone. I can tell by the set of his mouth that he heard the question but has no interest in helping me out.

“Shellfish?” I latch onto the first lie to enter my head.

“Ah, that will be no problem.”

I picture Mom’s cookies bouncing under the wheels of a semi. The question Victor asked in the elevator. The way he always seems to be able to pull me in just enough to hurt when he lashes out again. “Alcohol gives him severe reflux. Coffee, too. Please only serve him water.” Victor looks up, alarmed, and I smile at him.

“Understood.” Emi pulls open a pair of double doors that lead into a conference room with high ceilings and massive chandeliers.

The first wave of jet lag hits me as everyone in the room looks up from what they’re doing to stare at us. I can feel my face getting warm. Crew members go back to adjusting a white backdrop lit by a bank of LED panels, while a man in light-wash jeans, sandals, and an infinity scarf comes over to shake our hands.

“I’m Sansone Campagna, the executive director of the marketing campaign.” His thick accent caresses each syllable. “You are both well after your journey, yes?”

Wellmight be putting it strongly, but I just nod.

“Never better,” Victor adds, scrunching up his eyes instead of smiling properly. He grabs my hand, and I realize his palm is just as sweaty as mine.

“If you don’t mind, please stand in front of the camera as we make some adjustments.” One of the production staff moves a light out of the way so we can access the backdrop. Everyone sneaks glances at us, ready to see the love story that broke the internet, the one that’s going to make them all millions.

I pull in a deep, shaky breath. This isn’t about them and their money, and it’s not about the blond brat next to me and how much I hoped he would be just like the idol I always admired. This is about doing whatever it takes to provide for my family, and no one’s going to take that from me.

As we stand side by side, watching Campagna take notes and flip settings on the massive DSLR pointed at us, Victor shifts his weight until his shoulder is pressed into my side.

No. I’m not going to carry you through this. I lean away, crossing my arms and leaving him alone with his hands shaking a little, breathing shallowly, eyes fixed on the camera lens.

Victor

Be good. The more you cooperate, the faster this will be over.

Oh, Gray. I’m always good. You have no idea.

Campagna clicks the shutter on the camera a few times. An assistant swoops in and fixes Ethan’s damn cowlick. She eyes my mop of curls, but decides that’s a fight she can’t win without reinforcements. “Looking good,” Campagna calls. “Tanner, can you stand behind Victor and put your arms around him?”

“Sure.” Ethan turns to me. His autumn eyes look swollen and bleary, his hair wet where the assistant spritzed it. I expect him to grab me, but he hesitates. “Is it ok?”

I stare at him. No one has ever asked. I’ve never been allowed to make this choice. “Fine,” I mumble.

He stands behind me and rests one elbow on my shoulder. He’s always so strong and stable, like he’s anchored solidly to this earth, like he could keep me from floating away.

Campagna smiles and clicks his tongue. “No need to be coy. Get intimate.” I can feel Ethan sigh before his arm slides around my chest, tugging me back against the warm wall of his body. His jaw rests against my temple.

“The fans are going to love this.”

For six years I’ve made sure that nobody could look at me. If I could’ve blindfolded the fuck partners I brought over, I would have. Now my picture will be published across the world and anyone will be able to stare at me, dissect me with their eyes.Hewill see it, I have no doubt of that. He’ll study my face and wonder why I’m letting someone else touch me when I belong to him, like he never taught me better.

---