Chapter 11
Jesse
Three hours. That was all the time left before Jesse had to be on set for their first morning of filming.
The party at the Powells’ had gone far longer than he anticipated. Then there was the ride back to the studio dorms, putting his suit away with care, and finally dissolving into a mess of tossing and turning in bed.
He was nervous.
It didn’t happen often, at least not to this measure.
He’d felt it getting on an airplane for the first time.
Whizzing down the street on his bicycle was one thing, but he’d never imagined what it would be like to actually fly.
He’d felt it again when he was informed that instead of starring in a picture with Montgomery Kincaid, he’d be dancing alongside Cal Campbell—the man of all his most private fantasies—and would be dining with him that very night.
And now, faced with the most daunting pursuit he could possibly think of, he couldn’t shake the unease in his stomach no matter which position he laid or or how many times he told himself everything was going to be just fine.
The thing was, each of these moments had also held a great sense of excitement.
Seeing the world from a bird’s point of view was thrilling beyond measure.
Sharing an elegant meal with the man he’d deeply admired for years was better yet.
Now, his photograph had shown up on the pages of a magazine like he was somebody worth looking at.
Jesse rolled over, reaching to turn on his bedside lamp. He picked up the copy of The Stargazer Cal had given him and flipped to the page with his interview on it as he flumped back against the pillow.
“Jesse Morgan,” he read aloud, noting the way his name was printed in bold letters that set them apart from the rest of the sentence, “Hollywood’s latest talent.”
The article went on to say most of the things Jesse had told Joan Dupree during their rapid-fire conversation, just more succinct and polished than he ever could’ve said them himself. Magic with telling stories, he thought, would be a fascinating way to make a living.
Toward the bottom of the page, Joan took on a more vague approach to her final question, which Jesse was grateful for.
Mr. Morgan appears to be a man of mystery when it comes to matters of the heart.
In a town full of on-again-off-again relationships, passionate love affairs, and innocent flirtations that often shine on the silver screen, one can hardly blame him for it.
But will the young dancer find romance in due time?
To quote Cal Campbell from his latest and greatest, Bedroom Eyes, “Nobody has time for love. You’ve got to make it yourself if you want any chance of making it at all.”
Jesse tossed the magazine back onto the bedside table and stared up at the ceiling.
That was the best line in the whole picture.
He closed his eyes and recalled the details of the scene, set on a wintery railway platform.
With warm traveling clothes on and suitcases packed, the lovers embraced for a final time before Minna Sullivan boldly confessed her true feelings.
Tears filled her eyes as she claimed they could never be together because of the way their busy lives continued to pull them apart.
Then Cal delivered the line and kissed her with such heat that she wilted in his embrace.
It was the kind of kiss Jesse wanted. Born from real emotion. A true connection. He wanted it to mean something.
Being kissed by Monty at the party wouldn’t have bothered him. He might’ve even liked it. But after learning what Cal told him about Monty’s magic, he reckoned he knew what Monty was really hoping for, and Jesse was glad he’d asked Monty to stop. He wasn’t looking to give anyone the wrong idea.
What happened after, on the other hand, was far more pleasurable.
Cal had come to his rescue. It was the first time he’d seen the man all evening, but the quiet determination in his actions made Jesse feel like he’d been with him all along.
He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about it as anything beyond a friendly effort to keep Jesse out of trouble, which Monty seemed to be getting in a lot of.
There was a part of him, though, that wished so badly it was something more.
That maybe Cal didn’t want him to kiss anyone else because he wanted to be the one who—
Jesse’s whole body went hot as he thought about the script he’d been given to read.
There were stage notes in between the lines of dialogue, most of which made little sense to him—things he hoped would be more clear when he was doing them in person.
But one note in particular had stuck with him since he came across it.
Sometime over the next several weeks, he was going to find himself in Cal’s arms getting what he’d always wished for.
It was only written to be a quick peck on the cheek, but even that was more than he’d ever dared to dream about.
Most of the choreography Mr. Price had them doing was solo work, though it was his understanding that later on in the movie they would be dancing closer together as the plot progressed.
He hoped by then his body would catch up with his somewhat more rational brain and not be so reactive to every touch.
Grabbing Cal’s hand during that first rehearsal had nearly done him in.
All the times they’d touched since hadn’t been much different, including the weight of Cal’s palm on his shoulder earlier that evening when he’d brought him inside.
Jesse adjusted his hips beneath the sheets and blew out a slow, tired exhale.
Before he had time to battle with himself over potentially crossing some new and unspoken rule of unprofessionalism, he slid a hand into the front of his shorts and returned to the railway platform as he’d done several other times since the film premiered, taking the place of Ms. Sullivan in Cal’s arms.
“We’ve been playing this game for years,” Jesse murmured, repeating her lines with his own blend of fondness and desire. “Every time we think we’ve got the whole thing figured out, something happens to put more distance between us. How are we supposed to create a life together?”
As he prepared to imagine Cal delivering his quoted lines, Jesse realized that he now knew what this scene would have looked like from Minna’s tearful perspective, rather than in cinematic profile, because he’d since gazed up at Cal Campbell’s handsome face himself.
“You’re an attractive man…” Jesse heard in Cal’s distinctive voice instead, which made his breath hitch. “People are going to make advances.” His fantasy shifted solidly to the conversation they’d shared post-rescue hours ago, though he was still in Cal’s embrace, their faces close.
“You didn’t want him to kiss me,” Jesse breathed.
His vision of Cal answered with a slow shake of his head, eyes lowering to Jesse’s mouth as he leaned in.
“You…wanted to…”
Scripted and unscripted words alike faded as Jesse neared his release.
He had no reason to postpone the inevitable, so he met it full force with the mental image of Cal kissing him the same way he kissed Minna Sullivan in the snow—full of passion and purpose and hope for the future they’d share.
He drew one leg up, knee bent as the flood of pleasure temporarily numbed his nerves and everything else into sated silence.
After his pulse slowed to normal, Jesse removed his shorts and wiped himself clean. He pointedly did not check the time before he turned the lamp off and rolled to face the wall with a tiny grin.