Chapter 23
Jesse
When Jesse’s alarm went off the next morning, he’d only been in bed for a couple of hours. To say he’d slept the same number of hours would be a lie.
He’d fallen asleep on Cal’s shoulder during the ride back to Hilliard’s place like a toddler who skipped their midday nap, only roused by Cal’s large hand rubbing his shoulder with care.
After saying goodnight to the others, Cal took him home, offering one final embrace of the day outside the door to his building before Jesse was left to slog his way up to the fifth floor alone.
It was there that he sprawled out on his bed with a massive, exhausted, giddy grin on his face. That, along with the moments of the day already replaying in his mind like fond memories, kept him awake for longer than he should’ve allowed knowing he had work in the morning.
So this was how it felt to be in love. He knew it must be true, because he’d never felt anything like it.
It was absurd, and terrifying, and glorious, and Jesse wanted nothing more than to fling his small window open and shout to the world, or at least to everyone within earshot, that he loved this man more than he ever thought possible.
The feeling was still with him when he woke, only muted a bit with the weight of not enough sleep tugging on his eyelids and too much sun making his skin feel tight and itchy.
When he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he waited for the shower to run hot, he grimaced.
His cheeks and nose had been more than kissed; he looked like he’d been slapped by the sun with an open hand.
Other parts of him had suffered a similar fate, though he thought Hilliard would be happy to know that his shoulders and upper arms didn’t appear to be nearly as burned.
He made it across the street with little time to spare. He was seriously considering giving coffee another try when Cal eventually appeared looking fresh but just as tired. He lowered himself into the chair beside Jesse with a stifled groan.
“You’re looking tan today,” Cal remarked over the rim of his own steaming cup.
“It’s makeup,” Jesse confessed ruefully. “I’m as red as Monty’s swim trunks underneath.”
Cal studied him more carefully with a look of mild concern. Jesse curled his middle finger into the collar of his shirt and tugged it down, revealing the angry skin at the top of his chest. Cal’s throat bobbed with a swallow and he pressed his lips together in a tight frown.
“Have you taken anything for the pain?” His eyes darted between the people bustling around the room as though he was searching for someone to whip up a cooling salve right then and there.
“It only stings a little,” Jesse told him. It was mostly the truth. Getting dressed hadn’t been particularly fun, especially since he had to do it all over again as soon as he got to the studio. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
Cal settled him with a look of uncertainty and said, “You’re sure?”
Jesse had to force back his instinctive yes, sir reply. He echoed Cal instead with, “I’m sure.”
It was their final day of choreography. They’d already filmed the majority of their bigger numbers.
All that remained was the titular song. It was a simple stretch of steps for the most part, but the timing had to be perfect and they’d already fumbled it more than once.
Jesse was lucky Cal had caught him at all on their last attempt.
Director King called for a final rolling rehearsal from the top.
Jesse shook out his legs as he and Cal returned to their starting positions, forming a dance hold.
Jesse winced under the pressure of Cal’s hand on his sunburned shoulder.
Naturally, this number had to begin with Jesse’s character leading.
“I’m sorry,” Cal whispered, lifting his hand enough to where it only appeared as though he was resting it there.
“It’s all right,” Jesse whispered back. He placed his hand atop Cal’s hovering one, bringing it back down to where it should be. The skin beneath his shirt flared in protest, but Jesse ignored it to add, “It’s a nice reminder of our day together, however temporary.”
In the few seconds that passed between the music starting and the assistant director counting them in, something flashed across Cal’s face that Jesse couldn’t read. Whatever it was, he masked it as soon as it happened.
“I am not a genius
But the chemistry between us
Makes me think I’ve stumbled on
A new scientific phenomenon,”
Cal mouthed along to the words as Jesse led him in the opening steps of a waltz, silently proud of how far his co-star had come with his dance skills in such a short time.
“All the laws of physics
Seem to crumble to dust
When you take my hand in yours
And we soar on the dance floor,”
They broke apart here, connected only by their joined hands, and came together again in reversed roles with Cal leading as they sang the next part together.
“When I’m in your arms
It’s only me and you
The noise around me
Fades completely
It’s world: population two.”
Another verse for Cal followed as they shifted into a faster step, though they were closer together than before. It would’ve taken everything in Jesse not to break character and smile too brightly up at his handsome face, only inches apart, had it not been for his focus on what came next.
They separated again, this time completely, as Jesse danced his way around the bench situated to the side of their dance floor. He hit his mark as he leapt up onto it, holding eye contact with Cal as he sang the next two lines under his breath.
“When I’m in your arms
There is no gravity,”
After a slick shuffle of his feet, toes ablaze with magic, Jesse bent his knees—and jumped.
A breath of relief whooshed from him as Cal collected him out of the air, one arm hooked under his knees and the other securely behind his back.
He didn’t have to work at all to keep the smile on his face as Cal spun him around, ending up exactly where he’d been before so the camera could get the best shot while he sang:
“Let Miss Earhart keep her plane
I have wings when we’re cheek to cheek.”
With one arm slung around Cal’s neck, Jesse’s other hand came up to the side of Cal’s face as he mouthed her plane. Not too high—Director King said they still needed to be able to see Cal’s profile. A couple of fingertips on his jaw instead did the trick.
Jesse lifted his chin and leaned forward just enough to give Cal’s cheek a theatrical peck as he finished the line cheek to cheek, same as he’d done in all the previous takes like it said to do in the script.
But heat ripped through Jesse and burst in his stomach when Cal also leaned in, his head at the perfect angle, and pressed their lips together in a red-hot kiss.
Kissing Cal on the mouth was definitely not in the script.
He should know, he’d read over the stage directions at least a hundred times as he prepared for the scene.
Jesse pulled away with a sharp inhale, chest heaving from his dance number and now this.
Their eyes locked and remained that way as the song played on without them, their recorded voices filling the otherwise silent and still room.
Director King cut the scene. It took a full five seconds for Cal to clear his throat with an uneasy cough and set Jesse down.
“So that was something,” King said in a cheery tone. “Jack, you really committed to that jump and it paid off. I could tell you felt good about it this time, yes?”
Jesse nodded in agreement, keeping his focus trained on their director as he caught his breath, fighting valiantly to appear calm.
On the inside, he was emphatically belting out the romantic lyrics to their song.
He did have wings, and he was soaring, and Cal had kissed him!
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and held it tight to contain his smile.
King arched a very pointed brow at Cal next.
“Cal.” His co-star’s name hung in the air like a reprimand all its own. Director King typically only referred to them by their character names on set. This was a direct address. “Stick to the script.”
In his peripheral, Cal gave a single nod of understanding, too. They were subjected to a fresh dusting of powder on their faces and tweaks to their wardrobes and hair in the thirty seconds before King sent them back to firsts.
In their dance hold, their eyes finally met again.
Cal’s expression was set, far too serious for Jesse’s liking, save for the softness around his eyes. He looked like he had a lot he wanted to say but no clue where to start. Jesse decided to go first to make sure none of it was an apology.
He leaned fractionally closer and whispered, “I liked your way better.”
As the first notes of their song played, Cal’s answering smile rivaled any glittering chandelier, any golden ballroom, any stunning sunset. And against all odds, it was meant just for Jesse. They carried one another through the big number one last time, hitting every mark with perfection.