Chapter Eight

Amos

I don't know what made me say it. Maybe so he would stop thinking about what people were saying, and maybe so he would realize that it's not all about him.

Though, to be fair, they were bad-mouthing him, not me. But maybe it would do the ego of the great Chase Soria some good to know that he is not the perfect pretty boy he thought he was. I mean, he was still a pretty boy.

Though, also to be fair, he was much softer than I'd thought he was. He genuinely cared what people thought of him. He wanted people to like him, and it bothered him when they didn't.

I, on the other hand, didn't care what people thought of me.

For the next two hours, Chase sat in the end booth at the coffee shop. He ignored the crowd for the most part, and although he had his textbooks in front of him, I was pretty sure he ignored those too.

I saw him a time or two checking his phone, scowling at whatever he read until he tossed it onto the seat beside him and ignored that as well. He tapped his pen, pouting out the window. So when I had a ten-minute break, I put two iced coffees on the table and sat across from him. "Hey," I said softly.

"Oh, hey." He seemed genuinely surprised to see me as though he'd been lost in thought. "What time is it? Are you finished?"

"Nah, just a break. Still got two hours to go."

He winced. "I kinda lost track of time."

"You've been staring out the window a lot," I said, then sipped my drink. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Don't let the comments bother you. People are gonna talk."

His eyes cut to mine. "They think I'm a bad person."

"Who gives a fuck what they think? Chase, as an actor, you're gonna get a lot of critique and feedback and horrible reviews and scathing social media attacks. You need to learn to ignore it."

"I know, I just . . ."

"You just what?"

He huffed out a sigh. "You're right. But by then I'll be a millionaire and I can be sad about it in my mansion in Beverly Hills, dabbing artfully at my tears with hundred-dollar bills."

I snorted. "It's good to have goals."

He managed a smile. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I let it bother me so much. I know I'm not a bad person. I just also don't want you to think that I'm a bad person."

"I don't. I mean, when I first met you, I might have thought?—"

"If you say the word generic one more time, I will tell everyone that I fell madly in love with you, wanted to be in a committed relationship—like actual boyfriends—for the first time in my life, and you broke my heart. Then you will be the bad guy and people will feel sorry for me, and I'll get pity-attention and free drinks at the bar."

"I was going to say, when I first met you, I might have thought you were conceited and full of yourself."

"Oh yay, that's so much better than generic."

"But you're not. You're actually not that bad a guy. Despite the repeated attempts to show me your moobs."

He gasped so loud, people at the next table looked over. He put his hands over his boobs. "Take that back." Then he gave his pec a squeeze. "Hm. That reminds me. Today was supposed to be chest day at the gym."

I sighed. How he could go from melancholy to funny in the blink of an eye... I got the feeling the funny side of Chase was his public persona. The quieter, more vulnerable side was the private side not many people ever saw.

"So you don't think I'm conceited or full of myself anymore?"

"Well, you aren't full of yourself, but maybe a little conceited."

"That's not even remotely true."

I rolled my eyes. "It might even be permissible given how good-looking you are." I wasn't even embarrassed saying that because everyone with functioning eyeballs could see he was gorgeous. "There's nothing wrong with knowing you're hot."

His grin was slow spreading. "You think I'm hot?"

"Everyone on this campus thinks you're hot. "

"I don't care about everyone on this campus. You," he grinned at me. "You think I'm hot."

I let out a long-suffering sigh. "You're precariously close to entering full-of-yourself territory."

He laughed, keeping his gaze on mine as he leaned forward to take a sip from his straw. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It was one of those pity drinks you mentioned earlier."

He snorted. "See? I told you it totally works."

I had to remind myself not to smile. "How long do you plan on sitting here?"

"How long is your shift?"

"I finish in two hours."

He made a face. "Well, maybe not that long. I was supposed to be writing this stupid essay. It's due for Professor Michaels."

"You can finish that in two hours."

"Can I?"

"Sure. If you stop staring out the window and ignore all the campus rumor bullshit." I pushed his open textbook closer to him. "Get writing. And if you get it finished by the time I'm done, I'll buy you a slice of pizza from next door when we leave."

He grinned at me in a way that made my heart take notice.

But then he went and opened his mouth.

"So before, when you said you'd be the one doing the nailing, what did you mean exactly?"

I slid out of the booth and stood up, getting back to work. "Write your paper, Hollywood."

I was surprised by how easy it was to be around him. Sure, we joked and there was a lot of snarky comments, but for the most part, being with Chase Soria was so easy.

I'd always assumed he would be the typical handsome and popular douche bag. Like so many of them were. But he wasn't like that at all, and I was pleasantly surprised by how compatible we were.

I also had to wonder how compatible we were in other ways.

I knew he was bisexual, and I had also assumed that he would top when he was with guys. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized I didn't know him at all.

Because I got the feeling he wasn't a top. And that made us a whole lot more compatible.

And that was something I tried not to think about.

Especially in class the next day, when we were back to sitting on the floor with him in between my legs and my arms around him. Not that we had to sit like that—no one else was sitting like that—but Chase had maneuvered us and made himself comfortable as the little spoon, taking my hand and holding it against his belly.

It was his new favorite way to sit, apparently.

I tried especially hard to not think about him being a bottom when he kept taking my hand and making me squeeze his pecs.

"Stop it," I hissed.

"You're the one that's obsessed with them. "

I dug him in the ribs because I was absolutely not obsessed. He was. He squirmed, laughing, and grabbing my calf, he brought my leg around his waist.

"Jesus, are you all right there?"

He held me in place. "You're such a koala bear. And you said you weren't the cuddling type."

"You're wrapping me around you. This is all you. Because believe me, this is not my choice."

"But you could totally throw me down and pin me to the floor if you wanted."

"Is that... is that why you're doing this?"

He chuckled, holding my right leg and my left arm around him. "Of course it's not."

"Are you two okay there?" Deirdre asked.

The way everyone was now staring at us, I was pretty sure our talking had interrupted her lesson. Not that I'd heard any of it. I gave Chase another dig in the ribs for good measure. "Sorry."

He laughed but never let go of my arm. Or my leg.

I stopped fighting it and just resigned myself to cuddling him, which of course, made him happy.

He was like a golden retriever puppy. Cute and adorable, but also a big clumsy oaf.

And one hundred percent used to getting what he wanted.

Insufferable.

"What was that?" he murmured.

"I said you're insufferable."

"Okay, you two," Deirdre said, waving us forward. "Up here. Because you can't seem to stop talking or touching each other, you're going to do this exercise in front of the rest of us."

Chase threw off my arm and leg, then jumped up to his feet. "Oh, thank god, he finally let me go."

I growled, but it wasn't worth the reply. I stood up and went to the front, opting to stand on the other side of Deirdre, away from Chase.

Surely whatever exercise this was couldn't be worse than being wrapped around him...

"So," Deirdre said. "You're going to venture out into the public as a couple."

Oh god.

It was so, so much worse.

"Like a trial run. Let's see how the camera angles work, the sound quality, etcetera." She held up her iPad. "We'll be watching you here, live streaming it, okay?"

"Okay, the love of my life," Chase said, using his theater voice. He held out his hands toward me.

"If you keep that up, this will be a reality TV Dexter episode," I said. "Where I kill you on live stream."

Chase just laughed. I was beginning to think him antagonizing me was his new favorite sport. And maybe, just maybe, I didn't half mind it either.

But as soon as the camera team was ready, Chase took my hand and pulled me out the door. "So, Elijah," he said, using my character name. "What did you want to do after dinner tonight?"

We headed out across the courtyard, holding hands. In public. The two-person camera crew a few feet directly behind us, but still. It was weird .

"I don't know, Dominic," I replied. "Study, most likely."

"There's a twilight beach volleyball game. I'm playing, so you should definitely come watch."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because, boyfriend," he said, giving my hand a squeeze. "It's what a good boyfriend would do."

"If you were a good boyfriend, you wouldn't make me go out where there are people."

He laughed as we got to the street, and I realized we were heading for the taco truck.

"But you don't work tonight, so . . ."

"No, but I do have to study."

"I'll help you study after."

"Your idea of helping is very different from mine. Don't you have an essay due?"

"I finished it the other day," he said. "Remember? You made me do it and bribed me with pizza. Which totally worked, by the way."

"Are you bribing me with pizza?"

"Nope. You get to watch me shirtless on the beach playing volleyball. That's your prize."

I sighed, turned to Daniel, and stared right at the camera. "Deirdre, I know you can hear this. It's not too late to swap partners. Someone who doesn't threaten me with having to see him naked."

"Semi-naked," Chase said. "Do you wanna see me fully naked? Because that's a whole other rating level. Pretty sure we don't have clearance for an R rating."

I sighed and gave him a shove toward the truck. "Shut up and order your tacos. "

Chase laughed again, then ordered a bunch of tacos and two sodas. He handed one to me. "Oh," I said, surprised. "Thanks."

Then he held up the tray of tacos to share. "See? I'm a good boyfriend."

"Pretty sure the word I used before was insufferable."

He gestured to a bench seat in the shade. He sat first, and I sat down next to him, but not close enough, apparently because he shuffled over so our thighs were pressed together.

He offered the tray. "Taco?"

Bridgette pressed her earpiece. "Deirdre said we have some wind interference."

So while they dealt with that, Chase and I ate the tacos and sipped our sodas.

"I wasn't joking about volleyball," Chase said quietly. "I am playing. You should totally come and watch."

I made a face.

"You don't have to sit with the crowd if you're sick of people. You can just sit on the side, away from everyone."

I grimaced at the thought. "I'll think about it."

"Then I will totally help you study. I mean it," he added when I shot him a disbelieving look. "You totally helped me smash that essay out. If you hadn't made me do those two hours the other night, I'd never have done it. And I do have a test next week, which I should totally study for." Then he nudged my shoulder with his. "You're actually good for my grades."

"Gee, thanks." I sighed, looking out over the ocean. It really was beautiful here. "Don't your friends miss you? You've been hanging out with me a lot. "

"They know about the filming production. I told them I'd be scarce." He shoved in the rest of his taco and chewed it before washing it down with his drink. "You should totally meet them. At my place or something. I know you're not a fan of crowds, so I'm guessing the bar is out."

I sighed. "Will they be at the volleyball game tonight?"

He gave me a half-smirk as he bumped his shoulder to mine again. "So does that mean you're coming to watch?"

"My character, Elijah, is coming to watch Dominic play," I allowed. "Just so we're clear. Because Amos"—I put my hand to my chest—"would absolutely not."

He laughed, mimicking me with his hand to his chest. "Dominic loves Elijah so much."

Daniel held up his camera stabilizer. "That's much better," he said. "We're good to keep moving."

Bridgette nodded, holding her earpiece again. "Deirdre says to come back."

For a second, I forgot they were even there.

We stood up, dumped our trash into the garbage, and before we got to the street, Chase slipped his hand into mine again. "Dominic loves to hold hands."

"It's funny because Elijah isn't a fan," I replied.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Speaking of fans . . ."

There were people watching us. Other students smiling as they watched on. We were very clearly filming—Daniel was ahead of us, walking backward with his camera on us while Bridgette guided him.

It was clearly a shoot.

But the people coming out of class were stopping and watching us, smiling when they saw Chase and me holding hands .

At least they had the smarts not to interrupt.

But then Daniel backed away to the side, letting us pass him, so he could follow us instead. It felt weirder then, to be in the front, holding hands with Chase as we walked back to class.

I was more aware of the background noise then, of chatter and people talking, and how the sound techs would work around that. "Should we keep talking so the sound guys can differentiate between dialogue and background noise?"

"Probably," Chase said. "It might help. Let's run lines."

"Lines from what?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"If you say Hairspray , I'm dumping you."

"You mean Elijah is dumping Dominic."

"No, I mean Amos is dumping Chase."

"I think we need to have a Hairspray appreciation date."

"I think you need to stop talking."

He chuckled. "I can sing it if you'd prefer."

"I would not prefer that, no."

"What about Rocky Horror Picture Show ?"

"Will you be Frank-N-Furter?"

"One hundred percent yes."

I laughed just as we got back to the rehearsal hall. I held the door for Chase and he walked through. When we were inside, he took my hand again and he did a theatrical bow, as if he was getting a standing ovation. "Thank you, thank you so much."

A few people did clap, though attention soon turned to the iPad. We watched it for perspective, to learn which angles were best and how dialogue worked with the sound quality. All the technical stuff...

But I also couldn't help but think how good we looked together. How the camera made Chase look even more handsome.

I also couldn't help but notice how much I'd smiled.

"Aww," Chase said. "Dominic and Elijah make such a cute couple."

Right, yes.

Dominic and Elijah.

Not Chase and Amos.

Keep remembering that, Amos.

Then Chase had his phone out already, scrolling his socials. "Oh, yep, we're topic number one on campus. We need to start advertising this show," he said, looking at Deirdre. "People are already invested."

Hm.

They sure are.