I consider. “Tait and I have the same one. He’s pretty good. He got me the audition for this part, and my name isn’t exactly a hot commodity right now. I’ll give you his number if you want.”
“I’d appreciate that.” His arm brushes mine as he rolls to face me. “My sister called you one of the top bl actors.”
I feel myself blush. “She’s hugely exaggerating. The last one I did was very successful, but it wasn’t due to me.”
“Who was it due to, then?” Rama asks, peering at me steadily through the darkness.
I shrug. “My costar? He has a lot of fans. Or the plot?”
“My sister told me you were outed.”
Trepidation crawls over me. What has he heard? Has rumor already colored his judgment of me? Tensing, I wait for what he has to say.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Relief washes over me. “It was difficult, but I’m okay now. I’m lucky Hearts Productions hired me.”
“Because you’re gay? Chinda said something about production companies preferring straight actors.”
“Yes. That’s why I say my manager must be pretty good.”
“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” Rama says, then covers a yawn. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I echo, rolling onto my back, mind going to Preed and everything that happened.
Things got pretty ugly. Being around him after he lied—saying I’d been coming onto him the entire time we filmed the series—was extremely difficult. If Kiet wasn’t there for me, bolstering my spirits through it all, I think I would have had a breakdown. I’m sure Preed hoped I would. Looking back, I can see his actions were fueled by jealousy. I was getting popular fast, and rather than using that and our increasing popularity as a Y-couple to his benefit, he tried to ruin me instead. When the shit hit the fan, our producer made it clear to us we were to act like we were as close as ever for the scheduled fan meetings and promotional shows. Standing on stage with him and smiling, putting up with the little touches he gave me, was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
Karma wound up biting Preed in the ass, though. Some fans put a different spin on the situation, saying Preed fell for me, either because I seduced him or otherwise. That he is in love with me still—which is preventing him and his new co-star from becoming a popular pairing. I can only imagine how angry it’s making him, along with the fact that I managed to win another part.
Glancing over at Rama, I see he’s already asleep, lips parted, and dark lashes fanned over skin made luminous by the moonlight through the window. It takes effort to force myself to look away from his beauty. Although Rama does not strike me as the vindictive type, letting my guard down with Preed was a lesson I couldn’t and shouldn’t forget. My career is in a precarious position, and I have to be careful.
CHAPTER FIVE: Rama
Iwake inches away from Pravat, my hand resting on his chest and our bare feet touching.
I’ve never enjoyed spending the night with past lovers and normally do everything in my power to avoid it. But Pravat and I aren’t lovers, and he’s sleeping so peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath, I don’t want to wake him.
Carefully, I withdraw my hand and slide out of bed.
In the mirror above the double sinks in the bathroom, my hair looks wild, and my face is pink and creased from sleep. I wash, brush my teeth, and comb my hair before returning to the bedroom to find the bed empty.
“Sleep well?”
Pravat’s voice brings me swinging around, hand to my heart. He stands just inside the door, a hanger of clothes in each hand.
Remembering how I woke up so close to him, I flush and look away. “Yes. Did you?”
He lays the clothes on the freshly made bed and turns to me. “Like a baby. These are our outfits for the first part of the photo shoot. Nahm says he’ll bring the others to us later.”
I look at the matching gauzy white shirts and white pants. “Do we put them on now?”
“After breakfast, or we’re sure to spill something on them. Come on. Aran and Tait are waiting for us downstairs. No one else is here.”
The house is bright and airy with high ceilings and gleaming oak floors that our bare feet make slapping noises against as I follow Pravat down the long staircase. On our way to the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of a large screened-in porch looking over the sea on our way to the modern white kitchen where Aran and Tait sit at an oak table. A row of opened plastic containers of food from a catering company line the counter. Picking up a plate, I spoon some omelet, eggs, and fruit onto my plate before sitting at the table.
“Aran and I have bathing suit pictures first, which means we’ll have to come back and shower before changing,” Tait says.
“You think we’ll have to get wet?” Aran asks him.