Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I, Blake Monroe, solemly—spelled incorrectly, by the way—swear I will do Jordan and Ben’s gay as fuck movie. I feel like this might possibly not hold up in court?”
“Wanna kiss on it? That’s legally binding.”
“No, it—”
“It is when it’s my lips. I’m really that good.”
I sigh. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I? Besides, I don’t think Ben would be too pleased with that.”
He holds out the pen for me. “You’re right. So sign it.”
“Fine.” I do as he says.
Then he stands and clasps my shoulder. “I can’t wait to have all the fake sex with you.”
As he begins to walk off, I call after him, “Wait, there are sex scenes?”
He spins back around. “Didn’t you read the whole script?”
“I skimmed!”
Jordan grins. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Chapter Two
Jordan
The first day of shooting is always the best. I’m like a kid on Christmas. I can’t sleep the night before, and by the time daybreak rolls around, I’m like an excitable puppy.
“It’s the first day,” I sing at Ben.
He pushes me off him. “Go work out and get rid of all that excess energy. I know what you’re like on a set when you don’t.”
“I could think of another way to wear me out …” I grind against him.
“Let me sleep. Unless you want me firing interns and production assistants all day, go away.”
“Fine. The weights will do me good. I have to be nice and tight for the camera today.”
Today’s call sheet includes a scene where I’m half-naked for most of it. I’ll be swimming and come out of the pool dripping wet, and it’s supposed to be the first time Blake’s character notices how hot I am.
Please, it’s so unrealistic. Even straight men know how hot I am. I was a model before I was an actor. I have literally made all my money off my looks.
But I guess movies are all about the entertainment, right? Who needs realism?
Today is going to be fun.
Blake’s been messaging me all week and asking for character inspiration because he’s trying to get into Madden’s head. I admire him for taking this role seriously, even if he’s only doing it because he lost a stupid bet—a bet I totally would’ve let him get out of if he really wanted to, but I think deep down he knows this is a good career move for him.
I’m excited to work with him. He’s been on my radar of actors I want to work with, and it has nothing to do with his acting skills. The man is hot. Blond hair, blue eyes, all-American boy. He didn’t catch my eye so much when he was with the boy band Eleven, but his Coby Godspeed movies where he’s being a shirtless badass …
Whew, is it hot in here? I haven’t even started working out yet.
I hit the gym outside in Ben’s pool house, and the plan is to work out until my excited bubble of energy has burst.
My assistant, Jojo, turns up before that happens. She enters with my morning coffee and a wide smile. “How long have you been at it this morning?”
I’m sweaty and breathless, but I still have too much excitement buzzing under my skin. I check the clock, and oops.
I lift my shirt to wipe sweat from my head. “A while.” If two hours is a while. My muscles will probably cramp up later from being overworked. Either that or my adrenaline will carry me through the day, and then I won’t be able to move or get up tomorrow.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes to shower and get dressed, or you’ll be late for your first day,” Jojo says. “Ben’s already gone.”
Okay, that’s kind of annoying. He could’ve come to tell me. But at least if we go to the set separately, I can leave as soon as my scene is done.
Jojo hands me my coffee. “Drink that.”
“Thanks.” I sip it, and it’s barely lukewarm. “How long have you been here?”
“Twenty minutes. I didn’t realize I’d have to drag your ass out of the gym. You usually only last fifteen minutes on a good day.”
“Are you attacking my stamina or my penchant for being lazy?”
“I said nothing about your stamina, Mr. Egotistical.”
“Well, good. I won’t have to prove it to you. You might be a woman, but I could picture Ryan Reynolds while I have sex with you.”
She sighs because she’s used to my shit and knows I’m one hundred percent gay and two hundred percent flirt. That makes me three hundred percent awesome.
“I’ll pass. Thank you for the offer, though,” she says sweetly.
“You’re always so polite.”
“I have to be to make up for all the times you say inappropriate things.”
“Truth.” I rush through my shower, and we get on the road, but from the minute I step on set, I know something’s wrong.