eBook Details

I Just Play One on TV

By: A.L. Turner | Other books by A.L. Turner
Published By: Torquere Press
Published: Aug 24, 2011
ISBN # 9781610402903
Word Count: 94,000
Heat Index    
Eligible Price: $6.99

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc), Epub

Categories: Romance>LGBTQ>Gay Romance>Contemporary Romance>Erotic Romance


I Just Play One on TV by A.L. Turner - Romance>Contemporary eBook

After an intense and emotional audition, Vincent Cantivespri impulsively falls into bed with Alex Gallegos… who refuses to even kiss him, and who immediately flees out of Vince’s apartment and back into the closet afterward. Vince barely realized men like Alex actually existed, and he writes the encounter off as a one-time mistake. Then he and Alex end up costars.

Things get complicated as they play a deep, subtextual romantic attraction between their characters on screen and become close friends in real life. When Alex finally admits his attraction to Vince, and his fear of it, Vince becomes determined to fight the forces that are working against them: in Hollywood, in Alex, and in Vince himself.
Reader Rating:   4.8 starstarstarstarstar (4 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating:   liplipliplip
It wasn’t until we’d done our penance in the gym for the pizza, showered, got into bed, read for an hour or so, and then turned out the lights that he rolled up beside me and said, “I… have one.”

“Oh?” I said, trying not to sound too excited and freak him out.

“Yeah, it’s… something I’ve thought about since I was a kid, basically. Pretty young, anyway. Before I’d moved in with Danny.”

I kept quiet, thinking about what it could be. Would it be kinky? Alex had never shown a hint of kinkiness before.

“It’s… kind of stupid. Kinda weird, I guess.”

“Weird can be good,” I said. Maybe it was kinky. I hoped it wasn’t too kinky. I was an open-minded guy, but if he started talking about bodily emissions or something, I was outta there. A guy’s gotta draw a line somewhere. A little light bondage would be fine, or maybe a foot fetish—Okay, now I was just getting carried away.

“Maybe it’s too—I don’t know. I’m just not sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to explain,” I said. “Just tell me about it. It’s a fantasy. I get that. Please never ask me about my kidnapped-by-pirates one, okay?”

That seemed to startle a laugh out of him. “How could I resist, now?”

“It’s embarrassingly clichéd,” I said. “Anyway, we’re talking about you.”

“Right,” he said, sounding resigned. And then, like many times before, he started abruptly, jumping in suddenly with no transition. “It’s… in drama class,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows, but didn’t comment.

“And… the teacher—“

“Danny,” I supplied.

“Yeah, him, he… he’s saying that ultimately, acting is about… being honest, and being open, and being brave. He did say that, a lot, actually.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I think it is.”

“I don’t know—anyway, so he’s saying that. And, the whole class is there, it’s about seven people plus him and me. And we’re all sitting in a half-circle in the classroom around him and the door’s closed with the blind drawn, so it’s just the nine of us, no one else. There’s… two chairs in the middle of the circle, he’s in one, no one’s in the other one.”

Alex took a long breath and let it out, shakily. “And he says, ‘I need a volunteer to be honest.’ But no one volunteers, you know? We’re all… scared to, I guess.”

I pressed myself closer to him, feeling the vibration of his voice and the beat of his heart in his chest under my cheek.

“So,” he said, “No one volunteers, so he calls on me to come up and sit in the other chair. So I do, and he says, ‘Alejandro,’—he always called me by that name—‘I want you to be totally honest. Do you want me?’ And I… don’t say anything at first, because I’m terrified, and he says, ‘Open, honest, brave. I know you can do it.’ I look around, at the rest of the class, you know? And they just… smile at me. They don’t laugh. They don’t… get angry. So I say, ‘Yes.’

“And I think that’ll be it, right?

“But it’s not. He tells me it’s good and then he… tells me to kiss him.”

I found his hand and clasped it, not saying anything, just listening.

“And I’m kinda startled by that. I look at the class again, and he says, ‘Don’t look at them. Don’t think about them. Look at me. That’s all that matters. The fourth wall is up, we’re alone in this room. Kiss me.’

“So I do. And then he tells me to take my shirt off, and his, until we’re both naked, and… I know the other kids are still there but I don’t mind. It’s okay. And he—keeps telling me what to do, but… it’s good. It’s easy, you know? To just… listen and react. Not to think. Just to do. What I want to do. And he… makes love to me, there in the classroom, in front of everyone, and it’s… beautiful. Not… dirty or wrong. It’s… perfect. It’s… intimate, even out there like that. He says he loves me and I say I love him, because it’s just the truth.”

Knowing what happened, later, between them, breaks my heart. It literally hurts inside my chest. I rolled up tight against him and kissed his cheek, half expecting to taste tears there, but there were none.

I’d been hoping it would be something easy, some specific act, something I could do just to make him happy for a few minutes. But this? I couldn’t duplicate this. It couldn’t be duplicated, really, even if I could have somehow convinced the infamous Mr. Shelton to learn how to not be a total asshole.

And I was jealous, of that jackass who wasn’t worthy of Alex’s devotion, who kicked Alex down just when he was so close to finally finding his feet, who still owned some part of Alex’s heart that I was now pretty sure I’d never be able to claim.

I said, “I love you.”

I Just Play One on TV

By: A.L. Turner