Page 101 of The Casting Couch

The cab pulled up to Nico’s building, and even though I’d been here before—walked these steps, seen this front door, slept in his arms—it still felt different tonight.

Bigger.Heavier.Like the air was charged with something I couldn’t name yet.

Nico got out first and glanced back at me, his expression unreadable in the hazy glow of the streetlight.I followed him up the stairs, my heart thudding harder with every step, my nerves spiking like I was about to perform on camera.Which, technically, I’d done.But this?This felt scarier.

No one had said anything about sex.But the air between us had thickened—warm, anticipatory.Like both of us were waiting for a cue that hadn’t been called yet.

He unlocked the door, and we slipped inside.

Nico said nothing as he moved across the room.He pulled out his phone and clicked on a playlist, something soft and ambient that I didn’t recognize, and started lighting a cluster of candles.The warm flicker made the entire space feel hazy and gentle, like we’d stepped inside a snow globe made of light.

And then I noticed his hands.

They were shaking.

Not a lot.Just a tremble in his fingers as he lit each wick, one after another.Like nerves were buzzing through him the same way they were through me.

He caught me watching and gave a tiny shrug, like, yeah, okay, I’m feeling it too.

My chest tightened.I didn’t know whether to exhale or grab him.

Instead, I sat down on the couch.He joined me a moment later, sliding close, his thigh pressed against mine.

We didn’t speak right away.He rested his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing the back of my neck with slow, absent-minded strokes.I leaned into it, closing my eyes for a second.Letting myself feel held.Like maybe I could help Nico let go of the weight he’d been dragging around since the moment his mother showed up.

“I hate how my mother makes me feel,” Nico murmured.

I opened my eyes.

He was staring ahead, not at me.His voice was quiet, stripped of its usual bravado.

“She just… cuts right through me.Like she has this magic scalpel that slices through every inch of armor I’ve ever built.She doesn’t even try.She doesn’t have to.”His throat bobbed.“She’s never really seen me.Not me-me.Only the version she wants.The version that works in her story.”

I nodded slowly.“That sounds really lonely.”

He smiled at that—but it was the sad kind.“It is.”

He looked at me, then, eyes soft in the candlelight.“But you see me.”

That was it.That was the moment.

Something in me cracked open.I couldn’t have stopped what happened next, even if I wanted to.

I leaned in at the same time he did, and we kissed.

Gently.

Softly.

Like we were afraid the whole moment would disappear if we pressed too hard.

His lips were warm.Familiar, but not casual.This wasn’t a goodnight kiss or a thanks-for-being-there kiss.This was something else entirely.It landed straight in my chest like a flare gun, lighting up everything inside me.

When he pulled back, I was breathless.

But then—just as quickly—a wave of insecurity hit.

Nico was a porn star.He had sex like other people made omelets.He was good at it.Relaxed.Experienced.And I… was not.

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