Lennox
“Dance everywhere I walk, baby,” I answer the question, as I partially stand balancing myself in the moving limo, gyrating my hips as I shimmy my feet.
Jace is shaking his head as he palms his face, slightly flushed from my silly behavior or the third glass of whisky we’re sipping on, I’m not quite sure. Either way, I like it.
We’ve been at this for a little over an hour. Christ, maybe it’s almost two by now. I’ve completely lost track of time. His shoulders are no longer tense, and to my surprise, he’s actually a fun guy. Nothing like the rigid Jace Wilder I met at the studio this morning.
“Nope, no way. I’m not dancing anywhere. I’ll sing when I talk,” he answers the question he asked me, which we’ve both started doing naturally, most of our answers have been opposite of each other.
“Oh, that’s right. You were in those musicals. I forgot you can sing.”
“Oh, god. Not well. There was a lot of auto-tune and coaching. I’m not that good, they just made me sound decent,” he replies, modestly, because he can’t take a compliment to save his life.
“I doubt that. You seem like the type of person to be good at everything you do.” The A-lister celebrity blushes.
I like that too.
“Your turn,” he says and I glance down at the dwindling pile of question cards.
The backside of this one shows Would You Rather in red lettering instead of the standard black and I recognize those as the sexual based questions.
I pick up the stack and skim through the tops, seeing that the rest of the cards are all the same.
“Hey cheater, you can’t pick and choose the questions.”
“No, I know.” I chuckle at his competitiveness in a game where there are no actual winners. “I just realized my cards got mixed up.”
He squints, looking down at the cards in my hand. “How so?”
“The rest are sexual based questions,” I reply, and his smile brought out by a tad too much alcohol fades a bit.
“Come on. Let’s give it a go.” I don’t hesitate because he has me curious.
I haven’t been able to get a read on him. Other than the fact that he’s completely private about his personal life. The tabloids never show him out much, and the few times I’ve seen him pictured with someone, it’s usually some misinterpreted picture of him on set with another actor.
My entire life is a free-for-all in a plethora of online videos. Most of which I’ve posted and shared myself at least until I became a Hollywood actor. I don’t post like I used to but people still find my old videos and splice them into different edits to create even more content.
He’s the one whose entire career has been in front of the camera but miraculously has nothing on his personal life.
“Here. I’ll go first.” I splay out the cards like a magician would and hold them in front of him. “Pick one.”
He glances down at the cards then back at me. He hesitates before granting me that fake tight-lipped smile that I haven’t seen since after our first drink, then he reaches out, sliding one of the red cards out of my grip.
Turning the card over, his eyebrows raise then clears his throat, masking whatever discomfort he’s feeling.
“Would you rather give up oral sex or anal sex?”
I purse my lips together as if deep thought.
“This is weird, you don’t have to—”
“Giving or receiving?” I interrupt him so he doesn’t try to get out of the line of questioning.
“Oh, I—I don’t know. I, uh—”
“Mr. Wilder. Mr. Rome. We’ve arrived,” Raymond says through the partition between the drivers cab and us.
Bloody hell.
Jace turns his body toward the car door, curiously looking out the window and ignoring the million dollar question lingering in the air. I shimmy closer to him since the cabin is on his side of the vehicle, my chest lining up with his back as I peer over his shoulder.
The house is directly outside but, instead, I find myself taking his reflection in from the interior of the window, studying the cut of his strong jawline and those pouty lips that have no right being on a man like him.
Like a good actor, he masks any expression that my vicinity bothers him. Yet the idea that I’m too close for his liking makes me want to push myself even further into his body.
I finally tear my vision away from his reflection and take in Pierre’s cabin.
“Oh, wow.” The words fall from my mouth as a shocked whisper.
Thick redwood logs make up the exterior, piled horizontally on top of each other.
A small porch wraps around the front with two chairs and a small table with an oversized lantern placed in the middle.
There’s a fire pit centered in the front yard that overlooks a stilled lake, reflecting a gorgeous backdrop of the lush greenery and cloudless sky.
It’s a picture perfect image of what you think a secluded cabin would look like, but I can’t help but voice my thoughts on its size.
“I know I’m a bit tipsy but is it a teeny bit smaller than you expected?”