Free Question Mark by S.E. Culpepper Page B

play this guy since I first found out about him and I didn’t think I’d have to sit up and beg for the part after some of the behind the scenes meetings I’ve had with the production company, but the table’s turned. Jenny, my agent, says they’re antsy that I don’t want the role because I’m on vacation while they want to talk. There’s also a rumor that they shopped it out to Pershall.”
    Mark coughed lightly. “Pershall—as in Brad Pershall? That guy who did those college horror movies?”
    Zane bit back a snarl. Jealous much?
    “Yeah, the same.”
    Mark surprised him with a crack of laughter. “Those movies were terrible! That scene in the boat house where he attacks that killer with an oar—” Mark couldn’t even finish he was laughing so hard and Zane wished he could grab him and kiss him.
    “I was sick with the flu when I saw it and I gotta say, if I weren’t already puking my guts up, that movie would’ve been all the reason I needed to start.”
    “The gore was awful,” Mark agreed. “Not that it didn’t scare the piss out of me here and there, but I give it a C- at best.”
    “You’re more generous than I am then.”
    Mark snickered a little. “This clenches it, Zane. There’s no way that guy can get that part. Go to that party and schmooze your ass off. I’d pay the ten bucks to watch you in a silent movie much less one where I got to see you in a pilot’s uniform. And you can actually act , which is a nice bonus.”
    Zane rubbed a hand over his face as warmth radiated through him. “Good grief—where the hell have you been hiding my whole life? I should have my publicist hire you.”
    A snort sounded on the line. “No, thanks. I’m all set. But if she needs some tips on what to say…”
    “I’ll have her call you.”
    The call settled into a comfortable silence and Zane pictured Mark sitting on the deck of his bungalow, the crystal water reflecting off his dark hair and light skin. It made him ache in an odd way.
    “What’re you up to the rest of the evening?” he asked, clearly wistful.
    “Not sure, but it will involve food.” Mark made an indecisive sound. “I was thinking about a walk and room service. Might as well splurge, know what I mean? The sun really took it out of me today, I think…” He trailed off and Zane wondered what he was thinking. He didn’t wonder long. “This is a really romantic place to visit. I keep seeing all this stuff that I wish I could share with someone, you know?”
    Zane did snarl this time. “God, if I were there, I’d volunteer for whatever you wanted to do.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Absolutely. I’ve got my mind set on you,” Zane said, gathering his courage. This whole no games thing was his idea, and he wasn’t going to let his fear of rejection screw him out of the possibility for something good here. Not again.
    “Wow. Most guys would never admit something like that. Afraid they’d scare me off or whatever.”
    The blood drained from Zane’s face and he wondered if he hadn’t just blown it. “I didn’t say I wasn’t terrified, but I don’t want you getting off of this phone wondering what I really think. I’ll always tell you the truth.”
    “That sounds—well, it sounds really good to me. It’s nice to feel like I’m…”
    “Wanted?” Zane interjected. “’Cause you are. Trust me.”
    “Likewise,” there was a smile behind the words, “but you probably already knew that.”
    “How would I?” Zane asked lightly, eyes narrowing in the dim light. If this was dumbed down to him being famous, he was going to be seriously disappointed. With fame, sure, he knew he was wanted, but he was almost always certain that it wasn’t him that was wanted, but the image of him. There was a big difference between the two. The image of him was make believe.
    “Well, maybe we should start with how my legs seem to go jellyfish in your presence? Hmm? Or need I bring up the kiss?”
    No words of celebrity. The relief was enough