He is incredibly attractive with the light eyes and the chiseled jaw and the arms covered in tattoos.
He's no Mal, but he's hot.
And he's incredibly game. I've asked him to do a number of far too dangerous things today. The video is a simple concept—he's alone in the gorgeous, sandy Malibu Canyon mountains, singing his heart out—but it's visually breathtaking. Especially when he looks like he's about to fall off a cliff.
The lighting guy shoots me a thumbs-up. It's perfect. Just light enough for us to make this work.
I issue a command to the camera operator and order everyone else to stand down.
Then I nod to Logan.
And we're rolling.
And he's going for it.
And I'm lost in the shot.
Ten takes and five minutes later, we have it.
We're done.
Well, there's still a ton of teardown, but that is now below my pay grade. I'm one of the important people.
I spend a few minutes offering high-fives and good-jobs. I'm about to pick up a reflector when a deep voice stops me.
"Baby, you're shivering."
But he's…
He's not supposed to get in until three.
I turn around.
That's really Mal. He's really standing in front of me. Those are his broad shoulders, and his blue eyes, and his strong arms. And there's that tattoo peeking out from his t-shirt, the one he got for me.
He's smiling ear to ear.
He looks as happy as I feel.
Words fail me. All I can do is move forward. I press my palm against his chest. His t-shirt is soft. And he's hard and warm.
And he's really here.
"I thought your flight was delayed," I mumble.
He wraps his arms around me. "I found another."
"I missed you so badly." God, his arms feel like heaven. And he smells good. And he's warm. And he's here.
"I missed you too." He leans down to press his lips to mine.
He tastes good, like green tea and honey and Mal. Like he's mine. No, he is mine. Now, he really is mine.
"I have a surprise for you," he murmurs. "Logan told me a car picked you up."
"If by car you mean him."
"Did he flirt?"