Chapter 11
LUKE
If I thought Riley was texting a lot before, that’s nothing compared to the last couple of weeks.
Ever since that night after his collab with Benji, we’ve been messaging nonstop.
He’s even come with me on my morning beach run a couple of days, and having the company has been extra motivating.
I always want our time together to last as long as possible, so we end up running longer on days he comes with me.
One morning, we were out early enough to see a colony of sea lions sunbathing in the morning light on some rocks, and Riley laughed and pointed out a particularly fat one that he said looked just like the dog his family had when he was growing up—a pit bull named Jello.
“You named your dog after sugar-water goop?” I laughed, doubling over as he shoved me and told me to shut up, that he had been five when they had gotten her.
He and his sister Mandy had agreed on the name.
I can’t help but grin stupidly when I check his Instagram and find a new photo posted of the sea lion from that day with the caption: “Jello. #IYKYK” and a winky emoji. It makes me absurdly happy that his sister and I are the only ones who follow him who do know.
I’m not a regular coffee drinker, since I don’t care for it black, and I try not to drink my calories when possible, but I do indulge in an iced coffee every now and then.
Today, it’s a need. Caffeine has the opposite effect on me than it does for most people, calming me down rather than amping me up, and I need something to settle my nerves.
So, Aggie and I loaded up into my Jeep and hit up my favorite local coffee shop this morning.
The baristas fawned over her and gave her a little cup of whipped cream with a doggy treat on top, and I’m pretty sure she would have been perfectly happy if I’d left her there to be spoiled forever.
I dropped Aggie off at daycare while I was out, and now my coffee is gone, and I’m cleaning my bathroom as a distraction.
I’ve been equal parts excited and nervous for today.
On the one hand, I can’t wait to see Riley again, and other than running into one another at a party and maybe briefly catching up over a drink, it’s been ages since I’ve seen Dante as well.
He and I are both total tops, so we’ve never done a scene together, but since we’re close in age, we were put up for a lot of the same parts by the studios we worked for, so we got to know each other pretty well.
He’s a great guy, and I know Riley will be in good hands with him…
but every time I think of the two of them together, something unpleasant unfurls in my gut.
I don’t think I would call it jealousy, exactly.
There’s nothing to be jealous of. Riley isn’t mine.
Neither is Dante, for that matter. No one has ever really been “mine.” I’ve never met anyone who would be worth the hassle of committing to, or who would want the hassle of committing to me.
In my line of work, it would have to be an open relationship, or at the very least someone who’s totally cool with me sleeping with other people for my job.
And most of my scene partners are just coworkers.
I’m not interested in dating coworkers, and while I’m friendly with a lot of them, none of them have ever really become good friends either.
But something about Riley has felt like more than coworkers from the start, and I’m not sure what to do with that.
I scrub at the toilet a bit harder than necessary, considering it’s only been a few days since I cleaned last. Jess keeps asking me to let her hire a housekeeper for me, but I’ve always been a neat freak, and the idea of someone else cleaning my house the wrong way is more unpleasant than just cleaning it myself.
And besides, I don’t actually mind cleaning. It’s relaxing for me. Like right now.
I’m not sure what I’m worried about happening later.
Am I concerned that Riley will hit it off with Dante?
That they’ll become friends and Riley will want to start hanging out with him more than me?
That doesn’t seem right, because I’m not in middle school and I’d like to think I’m a little more mature than being worried that the other kids won’t want to play with me anymore.
I didn’t particularly love seeing Riley’s video with Benji (which wasn’t quite as well-received as ours, but did well, and both of them made decent money off of it), but I think that had more to do with Benji than with Riley.
As his friend, I want to see Riley treated like the prince he is, and in my opinion, Benji didn’t hold him in high enough esteem.
But that’s not my call to make, it’s Riley’s.
I just didn’t like seeing him distressed afterward.
That’s all it was.
Moving on to the shower, I ignore the little niggle of doubt in the back of my mind.
Dante rented a house on Santa Monica Beach for the collab.
The same beach Riley and I have run at a few times.
It’s a bit of a drive from my condo, but the views are worth it.
Dante found a rental with floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom, and I could tell just from the photos that it’s going to make for some stunning angles.
I’m nowhere near the videographer that Nathan is, but over the years, I’ve watched and learned and sat down with Nathan more than once to watch him edit, listening eagerly as he explained his thought process during the shoot.
I’ve always been interested in capturing moments in life on camera, whether that’s still or motion.
Since I’m limited on what content I can post on my social media by time constraints and censorship, I don’t get many opportunities to film freely like this—as an observer and not a performer.
I’m looking forward to it. Really. All that stuff earlier was just overthinking.
As I pull up to the house, I see Dante’s truck already out front. No sign of Riley yet. Killing the ignition, I grab my camera and head straight inside.
“Luke! How are you, you old dog?” Dante greets, hopping up from the couch as soon as I push open the front door.
Dressed in baggy cargo pants and a black tank top, Dante looks good.
His tan is permanent from too much sun, and he’s practically glowing.
I think, not for the first time, that his skincare regimen must be intense.
Haircare, too. His black waves are wild today, akin to a lion’s mane more than anything.
The man is the definition of beautiful, and the industry has been good to him for it.
“Why is everyone calling me old lately,” I grumble, embracing my friend. “And if I recall, you’re the one who managed to throw out your back so badly in a scene last year that you needed surgery, so shut the fuck up.”
Dante laughs and gives me a light punch on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, cease fire. You’re getting mean in your old age, damn.”
I raise an unamused brow at him and take a look around the living room. Sleek hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, angular, modern architecture, and the beachfront views all scream more money than I’ll ever see in this lifetime. “How’d you find this place anyway?”
“Buddy of mine is in real estate investment,” Dante explains.
“Buys up properties and keeps some of them as rentals. He owes me a favor, so we have the whole place for the day. He just asked that we throw the sheets in the laundry before we leave and said he’ll kill me if we do it on the sofa. Italian leather, or some shit.”
I chuckle at that, running a hand along the couch in question. The leather is buttery soft to the touch, and the idea of trying to clean cum off the cushions sounds like a nightmare. No sex on the sofa it is.
“Knock knock,” a perky voice comes from the entryway, and I turn to see Riley tentatively poking his head in the door. His smile is filled with relief when he catches my eye, and my heart skips. “Oh thank god, I was worried I might have been at the wrong place. How embarrassing would that be?”
Dante laughs and reaches out to shake Riley’s hand. “Nah, man, you’re good! Glad you could make it. I’m Dante, and you obviously already know your boy Luke.”
My insides go a little gooey at the words “your boy Luke.”
“Nice to meet you.” Riley nods, gaping openly around the house. “This place is insane. I feel like I’m about ten social classes too low to even set foot in here.”
Dante laughs and starts to head down a hallway to the left. “Just wait till you see the bedroom we’ll be in.”
Glancing at each other curiously, we follow him to the most beautiful bedroom I’ve ever set foot in.
The photos don’t even begin to do it justice.
The floor to ceiling windows actually retract across the length of the room and open up to a balcony overlooking the ocean, with stairs leading down to a private section of the beach.
The breeze off of the water and the sound of crashing waves on the sand below us create a breathtaking ambiance.
A plush California king bed sits directly across from the balcony, and a large stone fireplace next to the bathroom door appears to be dual sided for use in the bedroom or the bathroom.
A bench at the foot of the bed and two chairs near the windows will be great spots for filming.
“This is…wow,” Riley breathes, mouth agape.
“Crazy right?” Dante agrees. Whipping off his shirt, he turns and grins at me. “Where do you want us, boss?”
Right. I’m directing this show. I look around the room, considering my options. “Let’s start with Riley naked on the bench at the foot of the bed. D, grab a towel from the bathroom and I’ll film you coming up the steps like you just came in off the beach.”
Dante salutes me and starts pulling his shoes off. “You got it, boss. You sure you don’t want to get in on this action? A threesome would really pull in the big bucks.”