Chapter Eight Rama
“What’s put that moony look on your face?” my sister asks.
“What moony look?” I scoff. “I’m just thinking.”
Settling into the chair opposite me, Chinda asks, “About what?”
“Rehearsals.”
“Are they going well?”
I nod.
“What’s the problem, then?”
“Who said there’s a problem?”
She huffs. “I can just tell. Has Pah said anything to you?”
“Only that I’m old enough to deal with the repercussions of my own decisions, which I translated to mean he knows I’m going to fail.”
Chinda glances at my phone where I’ve been scrolling through the fan website.
“Has someone made a rude comment?”
Sighing, I shake my head. “There are just a lot of expectations. What if my acting isn’t good enough? What if they don’t like the series?”
“If you couldn’t act or didn’t have chemistry with your co-star, the producer and casting director wouldn’t have chosen you.
They had you sign a contract, right?” I nod.
Pravat had been correct—Tida produced the contract at the end of our weekend at the beach.
I was a little surprised at the clause specifically stating the actors are not to become romantically involved, since that seems to be idea we’re trying to convey, but whatever.
“Then you have nothing to worry about. We bl fans love our guys and pretty much every series that’s put out, even those with sub-par storylines.
And this one doesn’t have one of those—I’ve read the book.
So stop worrying about it. Fans already love you and Pravat, and as long as you give fan service, everything will be great. ”
I frown. “That’s another thing. We have a fan meeting soon. I don’t know how to act.” The night at the restaurant when fans suddenly crowded us freaked me out. If Pravat hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.
“Just do all the little things fans like. Hold hands. Touch one another. Sit on Pravat’s lap. Pay attention to him. Act jealous. Stuff like that.”
I can do that. Feeling better, I put my phone aside. “How are your studies?”
Chinda makes a face. “I’m going to flunk my math course if I don’t get some help. I start with a tutor tomorrow.”
I nod. “It’s good you’re getting some help. Do you ever see Pravat at the university?”
“We aren’t in the same faculty, but I occasionally see him in the main building.”
“Does he have a lot of friends?”
“Are you kidding? A small crowd follows him, but there’s always one particular guy with him.” She stands. “I have to study for a psych test.”
When she leaves the room, I lean back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
Who is the guy Pravat’s always with at university?
A good friend? A boyfriend? My mind immediately goes to the kisses Pravat and I practiced at the last workshop.
When I realized the acting coach was going to be right up in our faces when we kissed, I panicked.
That woman’s presence makes everything ten times worse.
But it turned out okay. And the kiss had been—I stop myself from defining it because I can’t.
It had been nothing like the soft kisses we’d practiced thus far.
I never thought kissing a man could feel like that.
A shiver runs through me when I think of the way Pravat held my face between his hands, controlling my movements. He’s broader than I am and has a dominating way about him that makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. He rattles me and makes me feel safe at the same time.
Sighing, I get up and go to my room to prepare to have lunch with a friend I haven’t seen in a while.
Kris and I grew up together, but our lives have gotten busy, and we don’t talk like we used to.
He’s easy to spot in the restaurant because of the streaks of blond in his longish dark hair.
Casually dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, he’s as boyishly handsome as ever.
Cute is a word often applied to him. I suddenly realize I’m examining him more closely than I ever have before, and I wonder if all this boys’ love stuff is the reason.
“It’s so good to see you. How are you doing?” I ask, sitting across from him at the table. He’s already ordered an array of food for us, and I spoon some spicy pad krapow onto my plate. “Still playing in that band?”
Kris nods. “We’ve been playing at a couple of clubs. You should stop by sometime.”
“Text me the information, and I will if I can. I’ve been kind of busy lately, though, and my schedule’s only going to get heavier in the next few months.”
Kris tilts his head in question. “You working for your Dad now?”
“No, I hope to have dodged that bullet, but we’ll just have to see.” I cut the runny egg and take a bite, an explosion of chicken, basil, and chili peppers that I quickly chase with a spoonful of rice.
“I thought you were going to have to start interning in January.”
“I was, but I lucked out and got a part in a series.”
Kris’s eyebrows raise and a grin spreads across his face. “Really? That’s awesome! How’s your father taking it?”
“Like he assumes it’s going to end any minute, how else?”
“Tell me about the part.”
I swallow my bite of food. “I’m one of the leads in a bl series called My Doctor, My Love. We just started filming.”
Kris stares. “You’re in a boys’ love series? Are you kidding me?”
I turn my attention from my food to him. “I’m serious. Why?”
Scratching the back of his neck, Kris says, “I just never expected you to play a gay character, that’s all.”
I smirk. “Do you know how many girls swoon over the guys who play these parts?”
Chuckling, Kris says, “I guess you have a point there. Still, you’re so…unapproachable. It’s hard to imagine you in a romance, let alone a gay one.”
“I can act,” I say a little defensively.
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have gotten the part.” He laughs at my scowl. “By the way, I ran into Kaeo recently. She mentioned you.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t polite. The last time I saw her, she made a spectacle out on the street by shoving a bag of my things at me.”
“I take it you two didn’t end well.”
“To put it lightly, no. Although, looking back, I can’t say what happened. She was just suddenly angry.”
“Well, I think you could get her back if you wanted to. She’s still hung up on you.”
I shake my head. “I have no intention of doing that. She’s too high maintenance.”
“What, she wanted you to actually pay attention to her?” Kris asks.
I frown. “Do you want her or something? Be my guest.”
Kris shakes his head. “No. I just don’t think you’ve ever been in love, that’s all.”
I shrug, and we change the subject.
“Text me about your next performance,” I tell Kris when we part outside the restaurant.
“I will. And good luck with your series.”
I walk along the street, stopping in a few stores before heading for my car. I’ve just gotten behind the wheel when my phone rings. Seeing Pravat’s name on the screen, I answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey. You busy this afternoon? I thought maybe we could hang out.”
“No, I don’t have anything I need to do. What do you have in mind?”
“Come over to my place. I’ll text you the address.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m knocking on the door of Pravat’s thirty-first floor apartment.
The warm smile he gives me when he opens the door makes my heart jump, and I tell myself to get a grip.
What is it about this guy that throws me off kilter?
Maybe it’s the fact that you’re kissing and cuddling with him on the daily, my mind supplies.
Slipping out of my shoes, I leave them by the door and step into Pravat’s studio apartment.
The place is small but spacious, with the bed in the far right-hand corner behind a bookcase.
A wall of windows shows off a gorgeous view of the Chao Phraya River.
There’s a desk in the other corner beside what I guess is the bathroom, and a couch, coffee table and chair near the short bar that separates the kitchenette from the rest of the apartment.
A row of brightly colored oil paintings on the wall over the couch catch my eye.
“Nice place,” I say.
“Thanks. It’s small but comfortable. I got it for the view.”
“I don’t blame you. Have you lived here long?
” Walking to the windows, I gaze out at the boats, thinking it’s a beautiful view to have from your bed.
The image of Pravat and some faceless guy wrapped in each other’s arms in front of the lit skyline brings a twinge of unexpected jealousy with it.
Does he have a lover? Maybe the guy my sister says she sees him with at the university.
“Only a few months. It wasn’t until my last drama that I was able to afford a place like this one. Before that I lived with three guys in a two-bedroom house.”
“Your family doesn’t live nearby?” Pravat hasn’t talked about his parents or siblings. I’ve been curious.
“I don’t have any family,” he says lightly. Heading for the kitchen, he calls over his shoulder, “Would you like something to eat?”
“No, thanks. I had a big lunch with a friend this afternoon. A drink would be great, though.”
Spotting a folded easel tucked in a corner against the wall with some canvases beside it, I ask, “Do you paint?”
“If it could pay the bills, it’s all I’d be doing. As it is, acting is more lucrative for me.” He hands me a bottle of beer.
“Did you do those?” I indicate the row of paintings I noticed before.
When he nods, I say, “I’d buy them. I love the colors.”
Pravat smiles. “I’ll paint one for you when I’m finished with my current project.”
We talk about football for a while, but my eyes keep wandering to the bed.
“Is something bothering you?” Pravat asks, and I jerk my gaze back to him. “Is it the fan meeting coming up?”
“A little. More the bedroom scene we’ll be filming soon,” I admit.
“What, specifically, are you worried about?”
“That I’ll freeze up, or freak out and forget my lines, or get stiff.” Belatedly, I realize how that sounds and my cheeks heat up. “I-I mean, my body. You know how I stiffen up when I, um, when I’m nervous.” I look away, and Pravat barks out a laugh.
“Chill, it’s okay. I knew what you meant, but there’s always the other to worry about, too.
Don’t be ashamed if you get a boner. It happens, although with all the crew and lights and stops and starts, not as often as you might think.
I’d rather my partner spring wood than wipe their mouth after a kissing scene. ”
“People do that?” I ask.
Pravat nods. “A few. If you’re really worried, we can try a few things to make it easier for you when the time comes.
” Coming to stand in front of me, he holds out his hand, which I take without hesitation.
It doesn’t escape me that a month ago I wouldn’t have taken anyone’s hand like that outside my family’s, especially not a man’s.
Except if you were acting, I remind myself.
And this is part of the job, so stop analyzing everything.
Leading me to his bed, Pravat stretches out on the mattress. “Lie down with me.”
Slowly, I do so, maneuvering onto my side to face the windows.
Pravat scoots closer, arm encircling me from behind, his scent and warmth enveloping me.
Slowly, I begin to relax. Cuddling on a bed isn’t much different than cuddling on the couch or on a mat on the floor, and we’ve been doing that for weeks.
But when he presses his mouth to my shoulder, I jump.
Horrified by my reaction, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Pravat says. “Get into your role. You’re Atid and I’m Kusa. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’ll love and protect you forever.”
Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out, releasing the tension. Pravat’s fingers curl around mine, the contrast of our skin like wet sand against dry. As he rubs his thumb over my wrist, blue veins move beneath his skin.
It doesn’t escape me that I am now that person in an intimate pose with Pravat in his bed that I thought of earlier. Only we’re not really lovers. What would he be like in bed? Would he take the lead? Consume me with his body like I—
I bring that train of thought to a screeching halt.
After lying with him a while, our breathing the only sound in the apartment other than the occasional whir of the air conditioner kicking on, I stop thinking entirely, seeing this for what it is: an exercise in closeness.
The next thing I know, Pravat’s gently shaking me awake, and I open my eyes to see lights glimmering over the river in the darkness.
“What time is it?” I ask, stretching.
“A bit after midnight.” Pravat rises from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. Sitting up, I check my phone and see I have a message from Chinda from several hours ago.
Where are you?
I tap out a reply.
At Pravat’s.
I check the My Doctor, My Love fan page, something that’s become a habit.
The recent photo shoot has garnered a lot of attention from fans.
They’re going crazy over the sexier shots of me and Pravat.
I stare at the photos, feeling as though I’m looking at someone else.
The man wrapped in Pravat’s muscular arms can’t be Rama Sathanthai, the man a past girlfriend once said was made of ice.
Pravat emerges from the bathroom wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white tank top. He crosses to a drawer and opens it. “Shower if you want. Here are some pajamas.”
Surprised, I sit up. “I should leave.”
“Why? It’s late. You need a good night’s sleep.” He hands me the clothes. Seeing no reason to argue, I nod and take them into the bathroom. “There’s an extra toothbrush in the drawer,” Pravat calls after me.
Once I’m settled under the covers with him, I immediately fall asleep again, waking only once in the night to find Pravat has pinned me with one long leg. I drift off once more wondering why it doesn’t bother me at all.