Caught in the Act

Act Apart

Succulent.

Lucas only vaguely registered the other guys' performances as he was preoccupied with thoughts of Max. The heat in her eyes. The feel of her thighs under his hands. The sounds she made, breathy and yearning. She'd said succulent. But what did it mean?

Maybe, like him, she was completely swept up in the moment, unaware of what she'd even been doing or saying. He'd been well on his way to running his hand up her skirt when he remembered he was in front of a group of people and several cameras. And that this was all supposed to be pretend. He'd never lost himself like that before. Not even during sex.

He needed to talk to her. Was this some side effect of immersing themselves so fully in these roles they had been playing? Nothing about that felt like acting. It was as easy and natural as breathing.

"You're up, mate," Ibrahim said to Noah, who looked like he was staring down the headlights of an oncoming train.

Graham handed him a cocktail glass full of something brown. "Have a hit of this before you go. Should help."

Noah grabbed the glass and drank its entire contents. Then with a grimace, he jogged down the stairs. All the other guys watched on with interest. He approached Chelsea first, who squealed at his dance moves. Max let out a raucous laugh. He loved her laugh. It had become such a source of relief for him over the past few days, soothing him whenever he felt tense or stiff. But this laugh only tightened the vice of anxiety pressing in on him. This laugh was for Noah.

"I didn't know he had it in him," Gary said approvingly, bringing Lucas's attention back to the moment. Noah was twerking in front of Hope, who observed him with an amused expression, presumably trying to keep her heart rate low. Competitive, as always. The other girls, however, cheered him on. When Hope failed to break under the pressure of his lascivious dance moves, he moved on to Max.

She covered her mouth and laughed as Noah stalked closer to her, but even from the terrace Lucas could see how red her face was. A hot nausea clawed at his stomach as he watched them.

Never taking his eyes off Max, Noah ran a finger along the outside of her thigh and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he'd said made Max lean back and cover her face with her arms.

"Noah!" Hope snapped at him, her face full of vitriol. Her sharp tone seemed to break his momentum and he stepped back self-consciously. He turned to walk away but not before giving Max one last heated look.

Their moment seemed to be done, but the discomfort still lingered for Lucas, like a bad aftertaste.

"Don't worry." Rahim was giving him a friendly smile. Apparently, Lucas's poker face had faltered. He was suddenly aware that he'd been grinding his teeth. "It's all a laugh. Anyone can see Max only has eyes for you now."

Lucas rolled his shoulders back, trying to shake the tension. "Thanks, mate." But his anxiety only morphed into embarrassment. Here he was entertaining fantasies of something more with Max, when he knew all too well that no matter how convincing a performance she gave, it was an act. One intended to gain Noah's attention.

He attempted to set his brain to rights as they made their way down to meet the girls at the firepit but one look at Max and he felt all scrambled up again. Her eyes were bright as they locked onto him and his awareness began to slip. The color and dimension drained away from everything around them, concentrating in her spectacular smile, which seemed to be for him and him alone.

"What the fuck was that?" Hope's voice tore through the air, a menacing look in her eye as she approached Noah. "And you," she looked at Max. "What do you think you're doing?"