Page 4 of GDL

We never set out to create the BBA—the Bad Boy Academy—it just happened. And I'm glad it did. They're not just my fellow content creators, they're my family.

"Now look left," Jeremy calls out, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to the photoshoot.

I turn left, and my gaze locks onto a man staring right at me. It takes my brain a few seconds to recognize him—Sawyer Bannister.

Another shiver rolls through me.

"You okay, buddy?" Jeremy asks, lowering his camera.

"Uh, yeah, fine." I try to shift my attention away from the man standing on the back patio, but I can't. I've watched all ofhis videos, and even though he isn't shirtless right now, he still looks incredible, with the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned, sinewy forearms. The navy pants he's wearing highlight his sculpted legs to perfection. I sure as fuck hope to be that jacked when I get to his age.

I don't know where the headquarters for producing these fine male reporter specimens is located, but I sure as hell would like to find out. Sawyer's face is made-for-TV perfection, angular and strong, with sharp cheekbones, inquisitive green eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass. He's handsome and yet slightly rugged in the sort of way that conveysI'm experienced, I've got this, you can trust me.

There's another man standing to his right, but I barely notice him. All my attention is focused on Sawyer Bannister, the man who'll be following me around for the next two weeks. Something that arouses me and terrifies me in equal measure. While I'm looking forward to hanging out with him, he can't find out about?—

"Let's take five," Jeremy calls out.

The crew take a well-deserved break. My assistant, Tharin, scurries over. "Sawyer Bannister and his manager are here. The food is late. And Ashton's sleeping in one of the bedrooms. Mischa's with him."

"Okay, good."

Knowing my son is safe—and out of view—I stride over to meet our new visitors. As I approach, my pulse kicks up a notch. Why am I nervous about meeting this man? Is it because I can't have him finding out about Ashton?

That's part of it, sure, but there's something else. Knowing I'd be spending time with him, I did some online stalking. Sawyer Bannister is one hell of an impressive guy. Initially, I only knew of him because of his shirtless TikTok videos, but I discovered he's a big deal in his homeland, Australia. He hada hugely successful reporting career in the late noughties and early twenty-tens. He was also a pioneer, coming out as bi at a time before the country even had marriage equality. I read the cover article from an Australian magazine with him on the front announcing, "Yep, I'm Bi." And of course, I couldn't avoid learning about the tragedy of his wife passing away, leaving him to raise their two young sons alone.

One thing I haven't been able to figure out is why he stepped away from the spotlight. He's probably rich enough that he doesn't need to work another day in his life. But if that's the case, why is he so eager to interview me? My team told me Sawyer's manager hounded them like no one ever has. Hereallywanted this profile.

I guess I'm impressed and maybe a little intimidated by the guy. I flash a smile and stick my hand out. "Hi. I'm Kynan."

His hand slides into mine, pressing down on my fingers with a firm grip. "Sawyer Bannister."

Sparks explode in my chest hearing him say his name in his deep voice and accent that's a subtle fusion of Australian yet tinged with an international crispness. His piercing forest-green eyes stay on me even as he pulls his hand back. "And this is my manager, Grayson McDermott."

"Nice to meet you." I shake Grayson's hand. "You've come on an unseasonably warm day," I say, doing my best to resist the urge to stay focused solely on Sawyer and give both men my attention.

"We're from Australia. We can handle the heat," Grayson says. He then claps his hands and turns to Sawyer. "I'm going to say hi to the photographer and have a chat with him about what behind-the-scenes shots we can take. I'll leave you two to it. Actually, before I go…"

He takes out his phone and aims it at us. "Come in a little closer."

My pulse rockets. "Uh, okay."

Standing in close proximity to Sawyer Bannister is one thing. Having him curl his hand over my shoulder is something else. Sparks of heat spread from my shoulder and shoot down my back.

I steal a quick glance at him—his profile game is as strong and commanding as everything else about him—before facing the phone and smiling. A few seconds later, the impromptu photo shoot is done and Sawyer's hand is off me.

The two men exchange a look before Grayson leaves us, and my gut clenches in an unfamiliar way. I assume they're close since they work together, but does that closeness extend to their personal lives? From what I've been able to gather, Sawyer isn't seeing anyone at the moment and hasn't dated much—at least publicly—since his wife's passing more than twenty years ago.

Sweat dots my brow, and I swipe it away with the back of my hand. Why would I even care if Sawyer and Grayson are more than just business colleagues? It's not like I can lay a claim on Sawyer.

I'm not even gay. But I might be atiiinybit curious, though. Might have jerked off a few times to the shirtless gym and hiking videos of the man currently standing less than four feet away from me.

May or may not have wondered what it might feel like to slide my hands all over that sculpted chest and abs, knead his meaty pecs like dough, feel the press of his cock enter a part of me no one ever has before.

"…appreciate you agreeing to this."

Shit. I barely manage to catch the tail end of what Sawyer's been saying while I drifted off into an entirely inappropriate X-rated fantasy land.

"Uh, sure. I'm looking forward to it, too," I say, hedging a guess it was something about us spending the next two weeks together.

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