Page 56 of Best Supporting Actor

Fuck, he couldn’t think about it anymore; his stomach was churning, and he felt slightly sick. “Do you know what?” he said brightly. “I fancy a run. Want to come? There’s a nice route along the river I could show you.”

Tag looked surprised, but then nodded. “Yeah, all right. Sounds good.”

Jay smiled, pleased, and a moment later, Tag smiled too, their eyes meeting and holding a fraction too long for comfort before Tag gave an odd little laugh and started to get up. Which prompted Jay to flee to the bathroom so he didn’t accidentally ogle Tag in those snug black boxer briefs.

It took a few minutes for them both to get ready, mostly because Tag got distracted by his phone. He was sitting on the sofa in his running gear, frowning as he typed a message, when Jay came out of the bathroom.

“Trouble?” Jay asked as he went to the door to find his trainers.

“Hmm?” Tag glanced up, distractedly. “Oh, no. It’s just my mum. She’s having a family get-together whenBow Streetdrops on Thursday and she’s desperate for me to be there, but of course, I’m up here so...”

“That’s a shame,” Jay said.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a big deal to her. And to me, but…” He shrugged. “Just bad timing.”

Doubtfully, Jay said, “I suppose you could ask Henry if you could take Friday off—?”

“No way,” Tag said, shaking his head. “The play comes first.” He put his phone away and stood. “Anyway, like I told Mum, there’ll be other things to celebrate. This is just the beginning.”

Nevertheless, he looked a little crestfallen.

“It’s your first TV role?”

Tag nodded, then added with forced brightness, “But not the last, right?”

“I’m sure of that,” Jay said earnestly. Still, it was a pity Tag couldn’t mark this milestone with his family and friends.

Shoving his feet into his running shoes, Tag crouched to lace them. “I usually run for about half an hour,” he said, “but if you want to go longer…?”

Jay took the hint and dropped the subject. “No, that sounds good to me,” he said, pocketing the apartment keys and grabbing his sunglasses and baseball cap.

Tag gestured to them as they trotted downstairs to the front of the apartments. “Do you get recognised often? It was a bit mad in the Bear the other night.”

“Sometimes,” Jay said, slipping on his sunglasses as they stepped outside, even though the morning was drab and overcast. “Depends on context, really. At a posh London restaurant, I’ll usually be spotted—which is why I avoid them. At McDonald’s, probably not so much.”

Tag laughed. “You donotgo to McDonald’s.”

“Well, maybe not often,” Jay conceded.

“Not ever, more likely.”

“You know, you have a very strange view of my life.”

“All right,” Tag said, following as Jay led him around their apartment block and down to the river. “When we’ve finished our run, we’re going to McDonald’s for breakfast. My treat.”

“And undo all the benefits of exercising?”

Tag gave him a slow and unashamedly flirtatious once-over, eyebrows twitching suggestively. “Come on, you can afford a McMuffin. You’re in fantastic shape—for your age.”

Flustered by that look, Jay felt his cheeks heat, but hid it under a burst of mock outrage. “My age?” He shoulder-checked Tag. “Why, you young whippersnapper, you!”

Tag laughed. “Was that—? Was that meant to be an American accent?”

“Oh shut up.”

“Because if it was, I know a great dialect coach. And it’s not true what they say about old dogs and new tricks…”

Jay snorted and began to run. “Come on, keep up!”