Page 25 of Cocky Bastard

“Don’t say that,” Jenny said with a wry smile. “I haven’t written your contract yet.” She picked up her pen again and looked over at Melanie, who was watching the pair of them. I wondered if casting directors ever got awestruck or whether all actors were the same. Were we only pawns on a board to them, waiting to be moved into place? “Over to you, Mel. Let’s see what these two can do.”

Melanie nodded and turned to Henry and me. He’d seated himself next to me and crossed his legs, leaning slightly back in the chair in a way that made him look delightfully roguish. I bitthe inside of my lip and forced myself to focus on what Melanie was saying.

If I couldn’t get over the realisation that I’d be reading with Henry Lu, my dreams of playing Llewelyn would be over before I could say my own name.

“Let’s start with the ball scene then,” Melanie said, gesturing to the open space behind us. “You’ve got plenty of room, but don’t worry about dancing.”

“Oh good,” Henry said quietly, shooting me a grin. “Because that isnotmy strong suit. There is a reason I’ve never done any musicals.”

I chuckled softly. “I don’t think my boy band dance training quite covers me for Regency balls, so I’m as lost as you.”

“True, but I assume you have basic coordination, which I’ve been told I lack.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you can’t go too wrong with standing still.”

He let out a little laugh as he stood. “Fingers crossed.” He held out his hand like a gentleman asking me to dance. “Shall we?”

I swallowed and put my hand on top of his. “Let’s do it.”

“Fabulous.” He led me into a bit of space where Jenny, Melanie, and the directors would be able to see us clearly. There were three cameras also in place around the room to capture our read from different angles for them all to rewatch later.

I’d barely noticed them when I’d entered and even now I wasn’t focused on their presence. I’d been around cameras and recording equipment for so long that having them near me almost felt normal.

I let my mind settle as Henry let go of my hand, picturing myself in the scene and sliding into Llewelyn’s skin. I still didn’t know him that well as a person, but I knew who I wanted him to be. That would have to be enough.

There was no music, no costumes, no crowd of the nobility milling around or young couples taking to the floor, but in my mind I could see them. I stood watching the crowd, a part of them but not, distanced by my lack of rank, title, and background. And when I looked over at Henry, all I could see was Charles, the lord who’d invited me to stay with him, the man who so admired my work… and the one who haunted my dreams.

“It’s tedious, isn’t it?” Henry asked as he moved slightly closer, carrying himself with slightly forced posture as if he wasn’t quite at home in his own skin. “I’ve never been much for dancing, but my sister insisted. Apparently, I have become something of a recluse from society.”

“Is that so, my lord?” I asked, allowing a brief smile to play across my lips, still looking out at the imagined crowd. “Forgive me, I would hardly call this affair the actions of a recluse.” I glanced up at him. “Although, as you said, it is not your doing. And I have been told that it is folly indeed to disagree with one’s sister, especially if they are as charming and strong-willed as Miss Campbell.”

“Indeed,” Henry said, his eyes dancing as he glanced at me. There was so much emotion in his expression and the way he carried his body. He could write an entire story with his face as easily as he breathed. Just being next to him was like getting a private masterclass in acting. “She is often right about these things. Although I would beg that you do not tell her I said that. Otherwise she is likely to become insufferable.”

“Of course, my lord. Your secret is safe with me.”

There was a beat and then Henry leant closer as if he was sharing a secret. “Tell me, Llewelyn, if you were to paint this scene, how would you do it? What would you focus on? Would it be the candlelight on the ladies’ dresses? The way the couples’ hands touch? Or would it be something else?”

On the page, it had looked like just a series of simple questions, but from Henry’s mouth it sounded so different. Almost scandalous. Seductive, even.

I let myself breathe. He hadn’t thrown me as such, but there was something about acting with someone so incredible that nudged me out of myself because I was so busy taking in everything he did. It made me want to be better, to be the scene partner he deserved.

Another heartbeat passed and I thought about Austin.

This whole scene reminded me of the way we talked to each other at parties sometimes—chatting about the most inane and random shit because the conversation wasn’t really the point. I never remembered much of it afterwards.

But I would remember the look in his eyes, the way he smiled, the feel of his hand brushing accidentally against mine, and the way I desperately wanted to be closer to him.

As I glanced across at Henry again, I imagined seeing Austin in his place, like the two of us were sat at a bar, watching the crowd at some awards show or industry party. My heart skipped as I thought about Austin’s smile—the one that always shook the very core of my being.

All I had to do was channel that into Llewelyn.

Because it was obvious we both felt the same about the men stood next to us: we needed them more than oxygen.

After that, the rest of the scene flowed easily. Jenny and the directors had a few notes, so we tried it again and then moved on to the garden scene.

I thought about Austin finding me backstage as a teenager, when we shouldn’t have been unsupervised or alone, but he’d dragged me away and allowed me to breathe, freed for a moment from my crushing boy band life.

It was the same way Llewelyn felt about Charles, and in the gardens, away from anyone else, they could finally allow a little more of themselves to shine through.

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