An epic motion picture! A gay Napoleonic War love story! Ballrooms and battles at sea! Romantic happy endings on the silver screen! And a film that’ll change everything for its stars ... Jason Mirelli can’t play adrenaline-fueled action heroes forever. He’s getting older, plus the action star parts have grown a little thinner since he came out as bisexual. This role could finally let him be seen as a serious dramatic actor, and he needs it to go well -- for his career, and because he’s fallen in love with the story and the chance to tell it. The first problem? He’ll be playing a ship’s captain ... and he hasn’t exactly mentioned his fear of water. The second problem? His co-star: award-winning, overly talkative, annoyingly adorable -- and openly gay – box office idol Colby Kent. Colby’s always loved the novel this film’s based on, and he leapt at the chance to adapt it, now that he has the money and reputation to make it happen. But scars and secrets from his past make filming a love story difficult ... until Jason takes his hand and wakes up all his buried desires. Jason could be everything Colby’s ever wanted: generous and kind, a fantastic partner on set, not to mention those heroic muscles. But Colby just can’t take that chance ... or can he? As their characters fall in love and fight a war, Colby and Jason find themselves falling, too ... and facing the return of their own past demons. But together they just might win ... and write their own love story.

Seaworthy

Evening. Well into. Past the end time of the day on set, according to the schedule. Jason should be back at the hotel—everyone should be back at the hotel—and heading up to his own room to change and maybe shower properly and a few minutes after that send a text and a few minutes after thatcome over and knock on Colby’s door and—


“Oh,” he said aloud, to the suitcase and the walls, very small. “Oh, no, I can’t. I can’t.” When he took a step back he ended up colliding with the bed. He sat down mostly because that seemed like a good idea.


He was breathing faster than he thought he ought to be. He tried to make himself stop that.


Why had he thought saying yes to a bar would be a good idea? Why had he thought that’d be something he could do?


He ran a hand over his face. Across eyes and faded eyeliner—which he hadn’t got round to removing, and he really should—and memories of the morning. It hadn’t been awful or even extraordinary. Merely disconcerting.


Chapter 57