Page 51 of Off Script

Liam looked at him, everything in his chest too full. “Yeah. That was… stupid.”

Jacob just watched him.

Liam backed away a step. Then another. “Okay. I’m gonna—shower. And… regroup.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“Don’t analyze me,” Liam mumbled, already turning away.

“Too late.”

“Don’t,” he shot back, pointing over his shoulder without looking.

He tripped on the top step, caught himself, and kept walking like nothing had happened. Except his skin still burned with the weight of Jacob’s eyes on his back.

Chapter 24

Jacob

Jacob wasn’t used to noticing absence; he wasn’t built like that. He didn’t need noise or company to feel steady. Most days, he welcomed being left the hell alone.

The quiet was different this time. It didn’t feel like solitude—this felt jagged and loud. A silence so sharp it echoed in his chest.

It had started the morning after the bonfire. The shift hadn’t happened gradually or with any grace; it had slammed down like a trap, impossible to ignore. Liam had been avoiding him like proximity was dangerous, as if being close might ignite something they couldn’t smother. There were no more soft smiles or easy warmth—in their place was guilt in every glance and silence in every room.

Liam had been twitchy as hell. He tripped over words that didn’t need tripping, fumbled props, and even dropped his damn coffee on the costume assistant. Jacob had watched him unravel these last few days, one nervous glance at a time.

He hadn’t realized how much space Liam had taken up in his life until it was suddenly gone. What scared him was how much it hurt, and how deeply he missed him.

By the fifth night on location, it hit harder than ever. The crew had once again gathered in the clearing, music leaking from the speakers, and burgers smoking over a grate. Jacob lasted fifteenminutes before he felt caged in his own skin. Liam hadn’t shown up again. This time he hadn’t even bothered with some flimsy excuse.

So Jacob left.

He stalked into the woods with no destination in mind. Just the moon between the branches and the sound of every unspoken want grinding through his chest. He wasn’t angry at Liam. Not exactly. He was furious at himself for the way Liam’s absence scraped him raw. Furious that he’d let the boy in so deep that he could hardly breathe without him.

He didn’t know how long he walked, but when he looped back toward the lodge, the main lights were off. People were inside now: talking, playing cards, watching something on a laptop with shared earbuds.

He caught sight of Liam sitting alone on the back steps. His hoodie was pulled over his head, his body folded small, as if hiding might make him invisible.

Jacob didn’t think. He didn’t pause. His body moved before his brain caught up, feet carrying him straight to where Liam sat. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of him, close enough to make him jolt.

“Come with me.”

Liam flinched, eyes wide. “What—?”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Jacob turned and walked. He didn’t check if Liam followed. He knew he would.

They left the lodge behind them, slipping into the trees. There were no lanterns here, just the crunch of dry leaves, the whisper of branches, and the pulse hammering in Jacob’s ears. He didn’t stop until the lodge was only a faint glow behind them. Far enough away that no one could hear or see them: no curious eyes or interruptions.

He turned so suddenly, Liam almost collided with him.

Jacob’s voice came low and tight. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

Liam blinked and tried to recover. “I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.”