Bella hesitates. “Mylo, just because… if things were the other way around…”
It’s the first time I’ve seen her this uncertain. I catch her drift.
I quiet my voice, willing it to be as steady as possible. “It was just a kiss, Bella. I’m fine. It was a… heat of the moment thing. On both sides. Just showbiz.”
Bella finally seems to believe me, expression softening. “If you’re lying to me, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
I crack a smile. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Bella chuckles and cuffs me on my good shoulder. “You should go back to the hotel early today.”
“Actually, do you think I could hang with the crew? I’ll ice on schedule, I promise. Cooped up in my hotel room, I’m gonna be miserable.”
“Alright. But if I catch you using that shoulder, you’re gonna be introuble.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
Bella brushes the lingering dirt off my costume. It’s motherly fussing, and I know she’d go full mother bear for me. I appreciate that more than I know how to articulate.
“Thank you, Bella. I really mean it.”
She gives my costume one last brush and offers a soft smile. “Alright, kid. Off you go.”
I offer a casual salute and step up into the wardrobe trailer, bracing for impact.
News travels fast on a movie set, and while Christine’s A-lister aura will spare her from any interrogation, I have no such privilege.
As Kristen, Keysha, and Sharon greet me, they’re already holding back smiles.
“So, how’d shooting go?” Keysha asks, too casually.
I shrug. “Oh, y’know, a totally and completely normal day.”
Sharon is far less patient. “Mylo, I’mdying, you gotta tell us everything!”
The afternoon is a blur,and it’s better that way. I keep my answers short. No, we’re not an item. No, I had no idea this was going to happen. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. But hey, it seems to fit the story. Yeah, she’s an alright kisser. Would I do it again? I’ll do whatever Lana tells me.
By the time I make it to the stunt team to help set up for tomorrow, it’s a running joke. I get whoops and wolf whistles, teasing nods and congratulations. I take it on the chin like I always do, laughing along. It’s nice to lose myself in hanging out with the crew: hauling gear around (with my good arm), breaking for snacks and a game of cards, watching the background stunt performers practice partial burns.
It’s a nice distraction from the question pinging endlessly around my mind:what the fuck just happened?
For better and for worse, Bella’s the only one to take that pause, the only one to consider that being grabbed and kissed by an A-lister on set might not be an unmitigated good.
If I’d somehow been able to get this far as an out omega, itwouldbe a disaster.
But as it stands, I meant what I said to Bella. It’s just a kiss. As far as the world is concerned, I’m a male beta, and while that means most people can’t really conceive of me not consenting to a kiss like that, it also means I’m immune to a lot of the shit that women and omegas usually get. No one’s going to call me a slut; nobody’s going to accuse me of trying to sleep my way to the top; there’s not a contingent of predators waiting to pounce on a whiff of vulnerability.
The crew will cheer the chance to make out with a hot movie star and not expect me to have any deeper feelings about it.
Which is good, because I don’t.
As the day rolls toward evening, I help clean and stack crash mats. A whiff of sea salt sends my chest hot and tight, heart thudding.
Christine, Lana, Haley, and the writers approach the trailers from the far side, returning from the beach and dispersing.
Christine disappears into her trailer, sparing me another dose of her scent.
She leaves behind an odd staleness that makes my nose itch.
