4. Rowen

4

ROWEN

I’d never been in a house quite like Shane’s. It definitely looked like the before footage of before-and-after renovations, but there was also something unique about it that made me feel at home from the moment I stepped inside.

There was peeling paint, sure, and I was pretty certain that 75% of the stone pavers on the front walkway had sunk into the grassy lawn by now.

But every inch of the place was like a time capsule, of the house and of Shane himself. The old fridge was covered in photos, presumably of him, his sister, and tons of family. The Christmas decorations were in every room, and even the kitchen counter had a tiny, ancient little ceramic Christmas tree that plugged in and lit up small multicolored bulbs all over it. The fact that most of his dinnerware had been passed down was cute.

It was so different from my family.

I swore Mom ordered a new, fancy set of dinnerware every few years, when the old one didn’t seem “in style” to her anymore. They were all imported from Sweden or France or handcrafted by someone in Japan. I’d accidentally broken a tea saucer once, and she’d sent me home in a rage—only to discard that dinner set a few months later.

We’d always had the finer things in life.

Too bad all of those finer things were the direct results of my parents’ embezzlement and tax fraud.

And I liked Shane’s stuff better, anyway.

“We should set it up in here, I think,” Shane was saying now, walking over toward the living room. “Get the fireplace in the background, and the edge of the Christmas tree. I want them to see how much work the house needs without thinking it’s totally dilapidated.”

I hauled my camera over toward the living room and set it on the same shelf from earlier. “All right. Let’s get this thing rolling.”

Shane was wide-eyed. “Do you want to do some practice runs first? Figure out what we’re going to say?”

“I say we just go for it,” I told him. “All we have to do is look like a happy couple and talk about the house.”

I hit the record button on the camera and walked over to Shane’s side.

I leaned in, pressing a little kiss to his cheek and squeezing him from the side.

“ Oh ,” he said, with a little gasp, and something about it made me go a little tingly. I liked surprising him, even though I didn’t really know why.

I’d expected Shane to start talking about his house the moment the camera was recording, but he seemed a little paralyzed, the same way I used to get when I filmed audition tapes.

So I started to do what I did best—I improvised.

“Hi! I’m Rowen Skye, and this is my boyfriend Shane,” I said confidently, smiling at the camera. “We moved into this twentieth-century craftsman home—oh, what was it, five years ago? The home sits at the heart of Bestens, Tennessee, one of the best-kept secret gems of the countryside. We fell in love with the house after falling in love with each other. But there’s one thing our love can’t fix, and that’s this .”

I turned to gently push on one of the bricks near the fireplace and it crumbled away, pieces dropping to the floor.

“We, ah, we need the Fixer Brothers’ help,” Shane finally said, stepping in. “We need your help. The Fixer Brothers has been my favorite show since it first came out, and, well, um—I think my house would be good for it. Our house, I mean. Shit.”

He was fumbling.

And it was one of the most adorable things I’d seen in a long time.

His hand had been gently draped around my waist since I’d come up next to him, and he was squeezing my side tightly now, kind of like he was holding on for dear life.

“Shane,” I said softly, moving aside and turning to look him in the eye. “Hang on.”

I walked over and stopped recording, heading back over to him.

“You said so much,” he told me. “You’re so good at that, Rowen—I didn’t expect the whole heart of Bestens thing, and how you said we’d fallen in love with the house.”

“I was just thinking on my feet,” I said.

He pulled in a slow breath. “Well, you’re a lot better at it than I am. Fuck, I’m nervous.”

“I’ve been acting for almost my whole life,” I said. “It’s been a long road.”

“I think I want it too badly,” Shane said, running a hand through his hair. “It really is my favorite show of all time.”

I nodded. “Well, I can give you some direction, if you want it.”

“Please,” he said.

“Reality shows want one thing the most: personality,” I explained. “And for home renovation shows, they want both the people and the house to have personality.”

“Meanwhile I had the personality of a sinking ship, just now,” Shane said.

“A Titanic personality?” I joked.

He puffed out a laugh, relieving some tension. “Exactly.”

“Your house has enough personality to blow them out of the water,” I told him. “And if you can get past some nerves, I think they’ll fall for you in a heartbeat, Shane.”

I’d realized that Shane was the kind of person who had absolutely zero fucking clue how charming he was.

Sure, he wasn’t a freak of nature like me, who’d been practicing charisma for my whole life, who knew how to work a camera.

Shane was more real than that.

That good, heart-of-gold, country boy kind of guy that everyone loved.

Even if he didn’t know how lovable he was.

My job was simple: I had to get him comfortable.

“We’re going to try something,” I said. I walked back over to the camera, hitting record. “The camera is on now, but we’re not going to send any of this to the Fixer Brothers. But we should get comfortable being on camera together and talking to it.”

His blue eyes landed on me, giving me his attention like he was a student at the front of class eager to follow every rule.

“Okay. I’m ready,” he said, determined.

“For now, don’t think about what you want to say to the Fixer Brothers,” I told him. “To get used to being on camera, just stand here next to me and say exactly what you’re feeling in this moment.”

“Say what I’m feeling,” he repeated.

I got a sense that it wasn’t something Shane did all too often. If he was anything like a lot of the guys I’d met, he probably was used to stuffing his feelings away , not airing them for all to hear.

“I’ll give you an example,” I said. I stepped up next to him again and laced my arm around his waist, pulling him close. “I’m feeling the warmth of your body up against the side of mine. I’m a little bit excited, because it’s fun to pretend to be your boyfriend. I’m glad to be doing what I enjoy, acting. And I’m deeply happy that I have the opportunity to help a sweet guy apply for his favorite TV show.”

“Wow,” he said quietly, shifting on his feet and licking his lips.

“Oh. And I’m smelling that delicious chocolate cake as it cools off, and the disbelief that you’d do something so sweet as to bake a cake for me.”

“I always want to do something nice for a guest, and you’re not just any guest,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I still can’t believe you brought me flowers .”

“Your debut acting gig is a cause for celebration,” I said. “Now. Try it out.”

He sucked in a long breath of air.

“I’m… feeling like I want to get this right,” he said. “Because I love the show so much.”

“And how does that feel in your body? ” I asked him.

“Like my heart won’t calm down,” he finally said. “Like… I want you to think I’m doing a good job.”

“I see,” I said softly.

“Because you’re so good at it,” he continued. “I guess I’m feeling admiration for you, or, like I’m starstruck by your skills, and I know you’ll be famous one day.”

My heart squeezed in my chest.

If only he knew that any chance of me being a famous actor was catastrophically ruined by being associated with my parents. Producers and directors didn’t care that I’d had no part in any of the crimes—they just didn’t want to take a chance on damaged goods.

But Shane only saw me .

And I kind of wished it could stay that way forever.

I gave his waist a squeeze. “Good. That was a good start,” I told him. “Let’s just keep doing this for a while, to get used to the camera. Get used to being each other’s boyfriends.”

He cleared his throat, and a moment later, he put his arms around me in a hug. “I’m so glad we’re about to film this video together, boyfriend,” he said.

I laughed, leaning into his hug. The bulk of his body was thicker and more muscled than mine, and his hug felt like being wrapped in a big, comfortable warm blanket.

“Well, we both care about this house so much,” I told him, improvising more as we pulled back from the hug. I reached down to hold his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “I want the Fixer Brothers to see that.”

His eyes locked on mine, and I realized they weren’t just one shade of blue, but a glimmering mix of baby blue and a deeper cobalt ring around the outside.

They were beautiful. He looked into my eyes for a while, clearly trying to calm himself down. He’d been biting his lower lip, and finally, he let it go.

“This feels good,” he said.

I nodded. “It feels really good for me, too.”

I wasn’t so sure I was improvising, anymore.

He swallowed. “Are you sure you don’t mind pretending to be…”

“To be with a man?” I asked. “No, Shane. I’m really liking it. Being with you.”

He looked from my eyes to my lips and back again, and I felt a tension crackle between us like electricity.

I knew if I didn’t do something, that tension would stay there—would bloom and grow and get out of control, and it would certainly show up on camera.

And I was going to defuse it.

I dropped my hand from his and draped my arms gently around his shoulders, moving in closer.

“This okay?” I said in a low voice as I leaned in closer to his face, pressing my forehead against his.

His tongue came out to lick his lips, and I could practically feel the beating of his heart.

“It feels really good.”

I turned my head slightly to the side and closed the rest of the distance between us, pressing my lips to his in a kiss.

Shane breathed against me, kissing me back, his hands finding their way to my waist. He touched me gingerly, as if he didn’t know how far he should go—how far he was allowed to go.

And so I moved my body up against his, pulling him closer as I deepened the kiss.

Showing him that he definitely wasn’t going too far.

“You can kiss me, Shane,” I said as I broke for a breath, keeping my arms locked around his shoulders.

He was gazing down at me with half-lidded eyes, and I swore something in his eyes made me want to just lie down on the couch and let him do whatever the hell he wanted with me. I’d been trying to make him feel comfortable, but in reality this was fucking turning me on, and I didn’t really give a damn why.

“Been too long since I’ve kissed anyone,” he murmured, the look in his eyes still dazed.

“I’m here to help,” I said.

And apparently you’re here to help me, too.

Kissing my male co-stars had been fun in the past, but it had never felt that good.

“I think I’m ready to film,” he said.