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’ll grab a Coke. I’m driving.” I look at Blake, who seems confused by the question. “What does Madden want?”
“I’ll take a Macallan neat.”
John gets to work preparing our drinks, and I nudge Blake.
“Liquid courage?”
“I was trying to think of what Madden would want, but I don’t have a huge feel for him yet. So I went with what I wanted. Maybe we have the same tastes.”
“I was half thinking you’d order a frou-frou cocktail.”
“I’ve decided Madden shies away from stereotypes.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Fair enough. Though, you do know he can be stereotypical, right? There are gay men who are flamboyant, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“But when you think about representation in mainstream media, gay guys are always the flamboyant sidekick. Or the ones who aren’t flamboyant, they have the tragic backstory. I read an article in Variety about there being a gap in the market for more diverse queer rep, so I’m trying to incorporate that.”
I think we’re getting to the root of his problem. “I know you’re worried about not doing this role justice, but the fact you care so much means you’re doing something right.”
John returns with our drinks, while Blake looks contemplative.
“Do you think Madden is a dancing in a bar type?” I ask.
Blake lifts his whiskey. “After this, maybe.”
I lead him to a back area with booths that are falling apart and where the music is quieter. This is where the regulars hang out.
There’s a rowdy crowd of guys in their fifties and sixties in the far corner, and I push Blake down into an open booth at the front where we can still see the rest of the club. I take the same side as him and sit close. I figure we need to get used to being in each other’s orbit for a while. If he can get used to casual touches and outward forms of affection from me, it will help.
He seems tense and throws his drink back, swallowing it all.
I wave over one of the drag queens to get a refill and then turn to him. “What made you want to get into acting after being in a successful boy band?”
“I thought I was supposed to be Madden?”
“Time-out on that. You’ve got this nervous energy pouring out of you like you do on set. So I’m trying to distract you. You said Eleven is getting back together, right?”
“We are. The others are busy writing for us while I do this movie.”
“Okay, so again, why did you go into acting?”
He thinks about it longer than I thought he’d need, but I give him the time. It means he’s not going to give me his rehearsed, approved PR answer.
When his new drink arrives, he sips it this time instead of guzzling it down. “When Eleven broke up, the other guys all had big plans. I had … nothing. I’m not as strong a singer as them. I started a solo album, and then one day this movie agent called me out of the blue, saying he wanted to sign me and get me some acting roles. I thought I’d do small roles here and there and see if I liked it when the studio for Coby Godspeed jumped at the chance at hiring me. And I was fucking good at it. A natural. It’s why I thought this role, while challenging, would still come easy. I was wrong.”
“Because you can’t fathom what it’s like to be queer?”
“No. Not at all. I can’t relate to chasing bad guys down with guns, but there’s less chance of offending people doing that than there is this.”
“The pressure is getting to you. So drink up, relax, and who knows, you might even enjoy yourself. Who do you think would be Madden’s type?”
He licks his sexy lips, and not for the first time since we started working together, I think about a time when those lips will be on mine. Sure, it’ll be impersonal, and I’ll be professional and won’t slip him the tongue, but I can’t wait to kiss Blake Monroe.
“According to the script, you’re Madden’s type.”
“Does that mean you’ll dance with me?”
Blake glances out at the dance floor and then back at me. “Not before I finish this.” He throws back the rest of his second drink.
When Blake and I hit the dance floor, I pull him close. Our bodies meld together, a necessity in such a small space, but that tenseness about him is still there.
I lean in and say in his ear, “Come on, Madden. You’re supposed to be attracted to me.”
Blake’s hands go to my waist, and when I’m a smartass and reach for them to move them down to my ass, he laughs.
We grind against each other to the beat, and he can probably feel my cock thicken in my jeans, but in my defense, I’ve been attracted to him ever since the first Coby movie came out. Teen heartthrob turned action movie star? I think he’s every woman and gay man’s wet dream.