My boy / Drew Starkey

48

Mila

I woke up to the warmth of Drew's body beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across my room. And there he was—shirtless, tangled in my sheets once again.

And I had never been happier.

It had been two weeks since the party, two weeks since all of our friends found out about us. There were no more hushed conversations, no more sneaking glances across the room, no more pretending. At least, not with them.

Of course, that was where the "who knows about us" list ended. No one from the higher-ups on set could know. No producers, no PR team, and definitely not the media. As far as the world was concerned, I was single, and Drew was still just my co-star.

His grip on me tightened slightly, pulling me closer before his lips pressed lazily against my shoulder.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

His morning voice did things to me, deep and raspy in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

I turned in his arms, tangling my legs with his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. "Good morning," I whispered back, pressing my forehead against his.

His fingers traced slow circles against my lower back, his touch so gentle, yet it had the power to make my entire body react like it was the first time he'd ever touched me. I had never known someone could have this much control over me—over my body, my emotions, my thoughts.

It was insane how much I wanted him. How much I felt for him.

But we couldn't stay wrapped up in each other all morning, no matter how much I wanted to.

We had to be careful.

Eventually, we pulled ourselves out of bed, reluctantly getting ready for the day. Drew stayed behind as I left first—our usual routine when we spent the night together. He had the key to my place, so he could take his time, leave after me, and we could avoid arriving on set together. I hated the extra steps, but it was necessary.

No one could know.

By the time I got to set, the usual morning chaos was already in full swing. Crew members moved around, setting up for the day's shoot. Cast members trickled in, grabbing coffee, greeting each other, getting into character.

I made my way to the trailer, where Jonas, our director, was already running through the itinerary.

"Alright, guys," Jonas said, standing at the front, flipping through his notes. "Today we're shooting the boat scene, then moving straight into the bonfire shots. It's gonna be a long one, so be ready."

I glanced at Drew as he walked in, arriving precisely five minutes after me like we had planned. His eyes flickered to mine for a split second before he casually took a seat next to Rudy, blending into the conversation.

"After filming, we've got interviews lined up," Jonas continued. "A full press circuit. Outlets from everywhere—Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, all of them. So once we wrap, you'll be heading straight to hair and makeup before getting dressed."

A collective groan rippled through the room.

Interviews.

A full day of interviews.

It wasn't that I hated them—it was just exhausting having to sit through hours of carefully worded questions while dodging anything that could get me into trouble. And with Drew and I now actually together, I knew it was only going to get harder to keep our secret.