Chapter 12
Jacob
They were getting ready to shoot the first kiss scene.
Jacob had read the pages so many times he could’ve recited them in his sleep.
Every line and stage direction was drilled into him until the whole thing was nothing more than choreography.
He’d built walls around it in his head and forced himself to believe it was just a job—just another scene. Nothing more. Nothing dangerous.
He hadn’t let himself be alone with Liam since the night in the garden.
He’d kept his distance wherever possible, even though working side by side meant there was no real way to escape him.
He’d avoided lingering glances and words that might reveal too much.
Not once had he acknowledged the way Liam had looked at him, or the way that sound had fallen from his lips when Jacob touched him.
Pretending was the only way to keep moving, but distance wasn’t kindness, and Jacob knew it. He noticed the way Liam’s eyes tightened each time he pulled away. He hated it, but he didn’t know what else to do. Silence was safer.
Focus.
Liam stepped into position beside him—already too close. He smelled faintly of mint and something warmer, something Jacob could never quite name without thinking of heat and skin. He kept his gaze forward, not daring to look.
“Okay,” Ellen called out. “We’ll run the full scene wide first, then reset for close-ups. Let it build naturally—we’ll be doing this several times.”
The set quieted; cameras rolled.
The lines came easily and Jacob let them flow without effort.
He had trained himself not to falter and to show nothing beneath the surface.
He clung to that discipline now. Still, when Liam’s eyes flicked up, even for a heartbeat, Jacob felt his throat catch and his control strain.
He forced it down, kept the rhythm steady, and gave no one else reason to suspect the ground was shifting beneath him.
Then the cue arrived. Jacob’s hand lifted, steady and sure, settling against Liam’s jaw.
The movement was familiar by now, yet the moment his fingers touched warm skin he felt the shift.
Liam’s breath stuttered, and Jacob knew instantly that this wouldn’t be anything close to acting.
For half a second he hesitated, but the cameras were rolling and the script demanded it, so he leaned in and kissed him.
He was right. He knew it the moment their lips pressed together. This could never be just a job, not with a connection so strong it ignited like fire between them.
The way Liam responded so instantly, from so little touch, was staggering. Liam moved into him without hesitation, a faint tremor running through his body. The soft, broken sound that followed was so raw it felt like a goddamn gift Jacob didn’t deserve.
Jacob’s body reacted before his mind could catch up.
His hand slid into Liam’s hair, fingers tightening to angle his head exactly where he wanted it.
His other arm closed around him, pulling him flush.
Liam yielded instantly, lips parting beneath his, pliant and desperate in a way that felt devastating.
The kiss deepened, no longer careful or scripted, but urgent.
His mouth moved rougher because he couldn’t stop himself.
Jacob felt the crew fade, the set walls vanish, and the cameras cease to exist. All that remained was Liam clinging to him, letting him take more, until the weeks of denial burned away in the heat of one impossible kiss.
Someone called, “Cut!” from across the set, the word sharp and foreign against the rush in his veins. He should have stopped and pulled back. He should have remembered where they were and what this was meant to be. He almost did, but then Liam whimpered, blanking out his mind completely.
He pushed Liam back a step, then another, until his shoulders met the wall.
Jacob caged him there with one firm hand at his waist while his mouth devoured him.
Teeth grazing just enough to leave a sting.
Liam let him and took it all, giving himself over in complete surrender.
It made Jacob want to ruin him, claim him, and own him in ways he had no right to.
“Cut!” Louder this time, the word cracking through the haze.
Jacob stilled, breath ragged. His grip lingered even as his mind clawed for control. He forced himself to let go and step back, though every fiber of his being screamed to stay pressed against him, to keep taking more.
Liam stood in front of him completely wrecked; hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes wide and dazed. For a dangerous second he just stared, caught in the wreckage they’d made together. Then he turned and walked off set.
He forced himself past the cameras and out the nearest door. In the hallway, he pressed both hands to the wall, his breath harsh and uneven. His palms trembled—not from nerves—but from the restraint it took not to walk straight back in and claim Liam in front of everyone.
He was still trying to calm his breathing when he heard footsteps behind him. “Jacob,” a PA called, “we need you back. You good?”
He swallowed the chaos down, forced his body into stillness, and straightened his shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was flat and professional, giving nothing away. “Yeah. Coming.”
He walked back in like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just lost control in front of half the crew.