Chapter 3

* Daniel *

Six days into rehearsals, I was starting to go crazy. Everywhere I turned, I saw Jeff Williams.

What's worse, he seemed to have made it his agenda to be extra nice to me, always making a point of saying hello or sharing some idle chatter.

He never appeared to be outright flirting with me, or harassing me. In fact, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy who just wanted to be friendly.

Normally, I'd be thrilled to make a friend like that. People who look like they just stepped off a movie poster usually aren't exactly approachable.

The gorgeous people like to hang out with other people just as gorgeous, so they can, I don't know, compare beauty tips and look down on the rest of us mere mortals. Williams wasn't like that at all.

And here I was practically creaming my pants over him every day. I had taken to wearing uncomfortably tight briefs instead of my usual boxers to restrain my erection, and leaving my shirt untucked to keep the pre-cum spot from showing through.

What was I, some kind of stalker sex maniac? The guy was good-looking, sure, and personable, and pretty clearly not interested in anything besides being agreeable.

Why couldn't I accept that and enjoy what he was offering without either panicking or wanting more?

Wednesday was Halloween, and being actors and natural exhibitionists, the cast had decided they wanted to do a costume competition.

Some directors probably wouldn't have allowed that kind of distraction from the rehearsal process, but Scott was as enthusiastic about the idea as the rest of them.

Something about bonding as an ensemble, I gathered. At the end of the afternoon, they all bolted for the dressing rooms to change while Mark and I hauled out some fresh drinks for everyone.

They were just going to hang out for a bit and show off for each other, then go out to dinner and probably go bar-hopping afterward. I was supposed to be joining Kelly for our traditional Halloween karaoke night.

They must have agreed that theme would be eighties night or something. Angela was the first one out, dressed in one of those leotard getups that you see ABBA tribute bands wearing.

She definitely had the figure for it, and had even teased out her hair and done her makeup to match. Next out was Christina, rocking Madonna's Material Girl look.

Then Joseph, poor guy, trying to pull of the Miami Vice look with the pastel T-shirt and the rumpled linen jacket. It didn't suit him at all, but you had to give him points for trying. And I was definitely digging the Ray Bans.

Heather had a bit better luck tackling the Joan Collins look from Dynasty, complete with giant shoulder pads. I thought she and Christina really should have switched costumes, but they were both clearly having a blast, so I kept my mouth shut. No one was asking for my opinion, anyway.

I swear I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw Jeff Williams make his grand entrance.

He had come in tennis whites, and I mean the kind they wore back when men's shorts were cut all the way up to the crotch. I'd always thought that look was stupid, but I nearly dropped my Coke when I saw those muscular legs rising up to a major bulge.

A few curls of golden chest hair peeked out of the collar of his polo shirt, and his superhero forelock fell fetchingly over the sweatband across his forehead.

I moaned and backed as far into the shadows as I could get. This was too good to miss, but I didn't dare let anyone see how turned on I was. The ladies in the cast, on the other hand, had no inhibitions about cat-calling to him and generally acting like teenage groupies.

He was clearly enjoying the attention, playing it up by miming forehand and backhand strokes. At least, I think that's what they're called—tennis was never really my thing.

I could definitely see myself getting into it now, though. Williams reared up in a make-believe serve, his shirt pulling free of his shorts to give a tantalizing flash of skin, and hit the imaginary tennis ball right at me. Then he straightened, looked right into my eyes, and winked. Oh, fuck, he knew I was there watching him!

"Good God, am I glad I showed up early for this!" Kelly spoke from behind me, nearly giving me a heart attack. I hadn't realized she was even at the theater yet. I turned and glared at her.

"Jesus, Kel, you mind announcing yourself or something? I just about jumped out of my skin when you spoke up out of nowhere like that!"

She laughed, then gave one of her cute-annoying mischievous looks. "Dan, you were too wrapped up in the view to notice if I'd tap-danced in here. I didn't stand a chance next to that display."

She nodded toward the stage, where Williams was now seated as if holding court amid the rest of the cast. "Not that I blame you."

"They should be breaking for dinner in just a few minutes, then we can go do our thing," I said, changing the subject. "Want anything to drink?"

"Sure, a Dr. Pepper would be nice, if you've got it."

"Be right back." I needed the excuse to get my head back together. Kelly had caught me blatantly checking our lead actor out, and we both knew it. What's worse, he had caught me out, too. Careless, I was getting way too careless.

As I barreled through the stage door, head down, I ran smack into someone. Coke spilled everywhere, all down my front, puddling around my shoes.

I heard his sudden exclamation, felt his warm breath on my cheek, and found his arms around me as we both swayed and tried to catch our balance.

I looked up, but I hadn't really needed to. It was Williams, of course, and I found myself exactly where I'd been trying desperately not to imagine myself the entire past week.

He recovered first; I was too panic-stricken that he'd notice my raging hard-on. "God, Daniel, I'm so sorry! I was headed for the dressing room and wasn't looking where I was going. Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He reached out and turned my face toward him. I'd gotten into the habit of keeping my eyes averted when he was looking at me. I was too afraid he would be able to see the blatant lust in them. "Please tell me you're all right. You're so quiet it scares me sometimes."

My heart pounded in my chest. Did he have a clue what the sight and smell and feel of him so close was doing to me? I stared into those blazing blue eyes, so full of sincerity and concern for a moment, for an eternity.

Then I caught my breath and stepped back, ducking my head again. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. It's my fault, really, I wasn't paying attention either. Thanks for catching me," I mumbled, and fled.

I brought Kelly her drink, and hissed, "Stupid accident backstage. I've gotta go home and shower and change. Meet me there in an hour?" She nodded, obviously suppressing laughter at my sodden appearance.

As I left the theater, I heard the unmistakable opening chords of "Thriller" starting up.

Under any other circumstances, nothing would have torn me away from seeing what kind of tribute Scott had worked up for the King of Pop. As it was, I beat a hasty and humiliated retreat, hard as a rock inside my damp, sticky khakis.