Page 55 of Off Script

Liam cleared his throat, the sound too loud in the stillness. “Do you ever wonder what people would say if they knew?”

Jacob didn’t look at him. “Who?”

“Anyone. Everyone. Doesn’t matter.”

“They’d say we’re selfish.”

Liam exhaled loudly. “Yeah… probably.”

“They wouldn’t be wrong.”

The bluntness caught Liam off guard. Jacob kept his eyes forward. “It’s selfish as hell,” he continued. “We both know who we’d hurt. I’m not pretending it’s clean, or right. But fuck—” His voice dropped, darker now. “After last night? After the way you came apart for me? Until this burns out, you’re mine.”

Liam froze. “I… I can’t be yours,” he said. The words came too fast, too loud, like force could make them true.

Jacob didn’t turn around.

“Did you hear me?”

He stopped and turned, his eyes locking on Liam. “Yeah, loud and clear.”

Liam’s chest tightened until it hurt. “I have a wife.”

Jacob raised a brow. “You think I don’t know that?”

“She’s pregnant,” Liam blurted, the words tumbling out too fast. “More than seven months. We’re naming the baby after her grandmother. We just bought a stroller—”

“Are you trying to convince me,” Jacob cut in, voice sharp enough to slice, “or yourself?”

“I’m not—” Liam swallowed hard, throat dry. “I’m not this—”

“This what?” Jacob pressed, his tone like steel. “Honest?”

Liam stumbled back a step, then forward again, his fists curling tight at his sides like he didn’t know which direction to run.

Jacob closed the space, stopping just short of contact, the heat of him unbearable. “Your body doesn’t lie,” he said, voice low and brutal—a truth that left no room for denial.

Liam’s jaw clenched, every muscle drawn tight.

“You want me,” Jacob murmured, leaning closer. “You fucking ache for it.”

Liam shook his head. “Stop—”

“You moaned my name like you forgot yours.” His words were almost cruel in their precision. “You came apart in my hands, clawing at me. Don’t stand here and tell me that was a mistake.”

Color scorched Liam’s face. His gaze darted to the trees, searching for an escape, for witnesses—anything—but there was only Jacob. Nothing but the fire that refused to burn out. “Jesus…”

Jacob’s voice dropped further, sounding dangerous and final. “If I touch you again, you’re mine. We both know it.”

He turned and walked away, leaving silence in his wake.

Liam stood frozen, heart in his throat, skin lit with heat that wouldn’t fade.

Then, because he couldn’t seem to do anything else, he followed.

***

They’d been shooting all day: exterior shots in the woods, close-ups on the porch, and endless retakes inside the cabin. By now, the crew moved heavily with exhaustion, their shirts damp and their eyes bleary. The air reeked of sawdust, sweat, and the stale press of too many bodies packed together.