Page 17 of Total Creative Control

Mason smiled, amused. “Aaron, you smoothie. Are you making a move?”

“What?” Aaron blinked, taken aback. Hurriedly, he said, “No, of course not.”

“Are you sure?” Mason ran his eyes over him, which was mortifying. As if Aaron would ever imagine that a man like Mason would look twice at him. “You know, I always thought you were quite—”

“Then Charlie Alexander can fuck the fuck off!” Lewis’s muffled voice rose behind the door.

Aaron stood up. “Okay. Mason, you need to leave now.”

“But—”

It was already too late, though. The office door banged open, and Lewis stormed out. “I’m not turningLeechesinto fuckingTwilight! Not for Charlie Alexander, not for Telopix. Not even for you, Toni! It’s my show.Mycreation. And I won’t fucking cheapen it for anyone.” With that, he turned on his heel, ready to stalk off. “I’m going for a fucking walk!”

Aaron held his breath, hoping Lewis would ignore them completely. If he could just get rid of Mason without Lewis noticing...

Unfortunately, Mason had other plans. “Hello, Lew,” he said, rising smoothly to his feet. “Bad day?”

Crap. Crappity-crap, crap, crap.

Lewis stopped dead, a rabbit-in-headlights. “Mason?” He threw a furious glance at Aaron. “What the hell ishedoing here?”

“I came to—”

“He came to see me,” Aaron chipped in brightly. “And he was just leaving. Thanks for stopping by, Mason. Great to catch up. I know you’re in a rush.”

Lewis scowled. “Why would he come to seeyou?”

“Er—”

Mason’s gaze darted between them. Then he quickly stepped closer to Aaron and draped a proprietary arm around his shoulders. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he told Lewis, “but we were just arranging a date.”

Lewis’s eyebrows drew sharply together. “Adate?”

Oh, good grief. Aaron tried to pull away. “That’s not—”

“What’s wrong, Lew?” Mason carried on, completely ignoring Aaron’s attempts to free himself. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Lewis’s expression darkened.Glowering, Aaron’s thesaurus brain supplied.Glaring. Scowling. “Fuck’s sake, Mason. Let him go.”

“Oh my God,” Mason crowed, delighted. “Youarejealous.”

Frankly, Aaron thought that was extremely unlikely. Lewis never looked back with regret at the men he’d loved and left—or rather, fucked and left. In the three years Aaron had known him, he’d never once seen Lewis jealous. Some people, specifically, Jason, thought that meant Lewis was a heartless bastard. And Aaron might have agreed had he not seen Lewis’s heart bleed out on the pages of his scripts. Especially when he wrote the bromance between Skye and Faolán, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge that was what he was doing. In his scripts, he revealed a sensitive and romantic soul. One Aaron would have staked his life on finding beneath all Lewis’s bluster.

Unfortunately, it was buried deep. Very deep. Too deep to ever uncover, realistically.

“Let me make myself clear, Mason,” Lewis said in a dangerously soft voice. “I don’t care who you’re fucking, but keep your hands off my PA. I don’t want him distracted. Besides, Aaron already has a boyfriend—a bloody awful one, as it happens—but he certainly doesn’t need another.”

With that, Lewis turned on his heel and stalked off down the corridor.

Into the ringing silence that followed, Aaron said, “Well, that was fun. Thanks for popping in, Mason. Always a pleasure.”

Mason’s gaze was still fixed on the direction of Lewis’s departing figure, his eyes narrowed. “Hewasjealous,” he muttered. “I bloody saw it.” Then he looked over at Aaron, tipping his head speculatively. “So did you want to get that—?”

“Aaron!” Lewis barked from further down the corridor. “With me. Now.”

Aaron gave Mason an apologetic shrug. “If I were you,” he said, “I’d go out and get laid tonight. Wash that man right out of your hair. You candefinitelydo better.”

Mason didn’t reply, but Aaron felt his eyes on his back as he speed-walked all the way down the corridor, at the end of which Lewis waited, his expression disgruntled.