Oh, my God. He’d gone to Scott for relationship advice. I worried I was going to melt into a puddle and ruin the nice chair I was sitting on. “What did he say?”
“I asked him if he worried about what would happen if they broke up. Wouldn’t it be too hard to keep working together?”
I swallowed a breath. This was one of the biggest things holding me back. What if we were foolish enough to try a relationship, and when it crashed, it burned up everything with it? I enjoyed performing, but I doubted I’d ever want to make a career out of it.
I didn’t know if the same was true for him. Men typically had a longer shelf life than women in the industry. What if Colin wanted to do this long term? I didn’t want to jeopardize any of his opportunities.
“What was his answer?”
“He told me that he didn’t have that concern with Nina.”
I pressed my lips into a flat line. “Because he knew they’d get married?”
“No, because she didn’t do much acting. She went to work at some private sex club pretty soon after they met.” He massaged the back of his neck and looked contemplative. “Which, honestly? I don’t think I’d be into that, the ‘not knowing.’ And I’d definitely not be into the ‘not seeing’ part.”
“Yeah,” I said, understanding.
I wasn’t always in the room when Colin performed, but I could log in to Petal Productions website right now on my phone and watch any of his scenes. The door was never closed between us. But I deflated when I realized Scott didn’t have any experience or guidance for our situation.
Colin adjusted the knot of his tie, so it sat loose around his neck. “He reminded me we’re actors. He doesn’t have feelings for his scene partners, and he knew it was the same for Nina when she saw clients. And then he told me before Nina, he had a girlfriend who was also in the business. Their breakup went okay. Hell, they even did a few scenes afterward. They figured out how to keep it professional.”
My lips parted with surprise. “That’s good, but once doesn’t mean that’s always going to be the case.”
“Okay. How many times does it need to be?”
“What?”
He laid his phone on the table, tapped the screen to unlock it, and then pulled open his Notes app. There were pairs of names listed in a block of text that extended down to the bottom of the screen.
“These are all the real couples that Scott’s worked with or knows about. Not all of them are together anymore, but they’re all still performing.”
“You, like, collected data?”
He smirked. “I figured you’d like that.”
Fuck. He’d done homework to help convince me, and I was glad he hadn’t put it in an Excel spreadsheet. I would have been a goner.
Seriousness crept back into him. “Look, I’m not saying it’ll be easy. If we do this, it might change the dynamic in the house, but we can talk about it. Like, if you only want to do scenes with each other, or if you want to be on set when I’m with someone else, that’s fine. I’m willing to give that a try if you think we need it to make this work.”
I stared at him with disbelief. The suit hadn’t just transformed him physically, it must have done something to him emotionally too. Because he’d put in a lot of thought and effort to this conversation, and his words made me so weightless, I struggled not to float away.
“I love performing with you,” I said softly, “but I don’t think I’d need exclusivity for it to work.”
I didn’t know how to put what I wanted to say into words, but his smile was warm. “Hey, I get it. I don’t want you to feel limited.”
Yes, that was exactly it. I nodded. “Plus, I don’t think Nina would be thrilled if we said we’d only perform with each other.”
“Well, she told me there’s a strong demand for real-life couples.”
“Of course you already talked to her about it.” That was why she and Scott had been acting so strange earlier. They knew all about Colin’s plans.
“I came prepared tonight, Madison.”
“Stop calling me that,” I blurted.
Oh, he fucking loved my reaction to him not using my nickname. I might as well have told him he’d won every battle we’d ever fought. His grin was wide and triumphant. “Okay, Mads.” His eyes glimmered with persuasion. “I mean, viewers already think we’re together. Why not make it official?”
“You sure you’re not a marketing major?” My tone was begrudging because it was irritating how good he was at this.
“I’m not, and you didn’t answer my question.”
I wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear, but I was nervous. My last relationship had ended specifically because he’d slept with someone else.