Page 5 of GDL

"I want you to know something," he says, angling his body so we're facing each other. He swings those intense green eyes right at me. My breath hitches, so all I can do is raise my brows and nod for him to go on. "I'm not here to do an exposé. Yes, I want to do an incredible story, but I have no intention of exploiting you or invading your privacy. You may be in the public eye, but you deserve to have a personal life just like everybody does. I won't share anything you're not comfortable with."

"Oh, okay. Thank you," I reply, his words easing some of the trepidation I've been feeling leading up to this.

One of the reasons BBA came about is because after we all blew up in our respective areas, the crew and I started attracting negative attention. I did a few interviews and got misquoted. The magazine who ran a four-page spread on Silas got a bunch of facts wrong. Rocky was made out to be nothing more than a powerlifting himbo when he's actually a really smart and sensitive guy underneath that wall of muscle and loves nothing more than spending his evenings curled up with his cat crocheting.

But all six of us were dubbed party boys simply because we attended events like the opening of clubs and bars. That works well for attracting attention which, as content creators, we need the same way people need air to breath, but it also didn't sit right with us. A substantial part of all our audiences is kids and young people. We take our responsibility as role models seriously. BBA gave us a chance to take some control over the narrative, playing with the idea that we're slightly naughty and rebellious, without it going too far. It worked better than anyone imagined it would, catapulting us into the highest stratosphere of content creators, with all of us having over twenty million followers each.

But our success makes us a target, and my initial response was to decline doing the piece. Then I discovered I was a dad a month ago, and my protective instincts ramped up even more. However, after watching hours of Sawyer interviewing world leaders, celebrities, and sports stars, my opinion changed. He never went for the obvious gotcha, never tried to trap anyone or make them look a fool.

"My passion is storytelling," Sawyer continues, staring right at me. "I believe that everyone has a story. And I have a feeling that your story has more depth to it than you just being a ridiculously good-looking young man who enjoys doing laundry."

I cough. Did he…did he just call me ridiculously good-looking?

"Kynan!" Jeremy calls out. "We're ready to go again."

My gaze drops to Sawyer's lips. They're thick, full, and the perfect shade of muted coral. This is so confusing. I've never paid any attention to another guy's lips before. Why am I noticing Sawyer's?… And why do I want to know what they taste like?

The air between us gets even hotter.

"I, uh…should probably get…"

"Going," Sawyer finishes for me with a slight smile forming on his lips.

"Yeah." A flush climbs my neck. "That."

"Go." Sawyer tips his head. "I'll be watching."

3

Sawyer

Oh, I've been watching all right.

It's the second day of my two-week assignment. After our initial meeting yesterday, I stayed for the rest of the shoot. Then Kynan had to leave, somewhat abruptly. I wasn't really clear on why, but that's okay. It's not like we have 24/7 access to him. Kynan is a busy guy and has a million projects on the go. I don't want to get in the way, but I am definitely keen to spend some more one-on-one time with him.

Today's shoot is taking place inside, in a studio made to look like a laundry room. Kynan's currently filming, so after Tharin let me into the closed set, I found an out-of-the-way spot off to the side, and I'm watching the magic unfold.

"Now if you've seen any of my videos, you'll know that one of my favorite hacks for clothes or sheets or towels to come out super soft is…" Kynan lifts a tablespoon heaped with a white powder in front of his bare chest and pauses. The camera zooms in. I'm captivated, even though I know what he's going to say because this is one of his favorite hacks.

"Bicarb soda," I mutter under my breath in time with him.

He flashes that megawatt smile of his at the camera, and heat engulfs my chest. I run my hand through my hair and chide myself for the way my body is reacting. I'm being silly. I'm here to do a job and salvage what's left of my career, not get turned on by my incredibly hot subject. That's what jerking off in the shower is for.

I also meant what I said to Kynan yesterday. I'm not here to score cheap shots or uncover some scandal. I genuinely think he's an interesting guy with an interesting story to tell, and I want to share it with the world. I want this piece to do well because I did a good job, not because I fucked someone over. I think he believed me.

I also couldn't help but notice how his eyes fell to my lips and he seemed to struggle with his words just before the cameraman called him over.

It was probably nothing. Again, if I want to read more into things and run off to some fantasy realm where Kynan could actually be interested in an old bastard like me, I can take care of that in the shower, too.

Kynan continues with the video, moving on to another favorite hack—essential oils. Five small bottles are arranged on the counter, so he goes through each of them, opening and sniffing them one at a time. I donotnotice the way his biceps flex as he brings the bottles to his nose or how his abs contract as he breathes in.

He proceeds to load a basket full of clothes into the machine, then crouches down next to it. The camera person follows, and I gulp. Confession time. This shot is a guilty pleasure of mine. Kynan crouching down wearing short shorts is an image I can conjure in my mind on command.

I've watched and rewatched it so many times. His muscular thighs press together making his bulgebulge. There's somethingabout it that’s so innocent yet incredibly sexy at the same time. A lot like the man himself. A contradiction of hard muscles and bright tattoos with a softness imbued by how excited and passionate he gets about something as mundane and run-of-the-mill as doing the laundry.

Steadying himself with one hand on the machine, the other draped over his well-toned thigh, he looks straight down the barrel of the camera. "Remember, cold water is your best friend if you're worried about shrinking or fading. This might be reopening a can of worms for the bajillionth time, but I firmly believe cold is the best temperature. It's the only setting I use. I don't mess with warm or hot. Same goes for my coffee order." He pauses to smile, and I find myself grinning, too. "But hey, if you're one of those folks who likes using warm or even hot water on things like bedding and sheets, I want you to know, I hold space for ya, too."

His fingers move to the dial, and he makes one or two more adjustments before pressing the Start button. Once the machine starts whirring, he rises to announce, "And now I'm gonna get me that cold brew. Catch ya next time!"

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