Roman entered the apartment and placed the bags on the kitchen counter.

Elliot remained beside the door with his arms crossed.

"You haven't eaten," Roman said.

"I'm not hungry."

Roman opened the refrigerator. It contained bottled water, mustard and half a lemon.

He closed it and unpacked the groceries.

"What are you doing?"

"Making dinner."

"I didn't ask you to."

Roman found a pan beneath the stove. "I know."

Garlic and ginger soon filled the apartment. Elliot's stomach growled loudly enough to betray him.

Roman continued cooking without comment.

Elliot sat on the couch and drew his knees up. Roman moved through the kitchen with an ease that made the room feel smaller.

When the food was ready, he brought over two bowls containing rice, vegetables and chicken.

"Eat."

Elliot picked up his fork.

They finished most of the meal in silence. Roman placed his empty bowl on the table and leaned back.

"We should talk about the bathroom scene."

Elliot's hand stopped. "There's nothing to discuss."

"You left the set and stayed home for three days."

"I was sick."

Roman looked at him.

Elliot set down his fork. "What do you want?"

"I want you to listen."

"That sounds promising."

"When you're nervous, you look away. When you feel trapped, you disappear."

Elliot's jaw tightened.

"You did it in college," Roman continued. "You're doing it again now."

"You came here to criticize my coping mechanisms?"

"I came because you're making yourself miserable."

Elliot looked toward the kitchen. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"We have five more weeks of filming and several intimate scenes. Coming back won't solve this."

"So what will?"

Roman took a moment before answering. "Familiarity."

Elliot frowned.

"We spend time together away from the set," Roman said. "You get used to being close to me without thirty people watching."

"You want us to hang out."

"Yes."

"After what happened in the bathtub?"

"Especially after that."

Elliot stood and paced toward the window. "That sounds like dating."

"We can treat it as rehearsal."

"That sounds worse."

Roman stayed on the couch. "Set rules. Decide what you're comfortable with and stop whenever you want."

"You think dating you will make my body behave?"

"I think feeling safe might help."

Elliot turned.

Roman did not look amused. His attention rested on Elliot with the patience that had already become difficult to resist.

"Why do you care?" Elliot asked.

"I want the show to work."

Elliot waited.

Roman rubbed one thumb across the side of his hand.

"And I don't like watching you struggle," he added.

Elliot returned to the couch. Every instinct urged him to refuse, but returning to the set without changing anything would lead to the same fear and embarrassment.

He picked up a notebook from the coffee table.

"We write down the rules."

Roman nodded.

Elliot wrote the first line.

The arrangement ends when filming ends.

"Agreed," Roman said.

Either person can stop at any time.

Roman leaned forward. "No explanation required."

Elliot added it.

No press. No social media. No staged public appearances.

"That should already be in our contracts," Roman said.

"It goes in here too."

The fourth rule took longer.

Ask before any new physical contact.

Roman read it twice. "That one stays."

Elliot underlined it.

He began the fifth rule and paused with the pen against the page.

No feelings.

Roman's gaze moved from the notebook to Elliot's face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You made a face."

"I didn't."

Elliot placed the notebook between them. "Do you agree?"

Roman read the rule again. "I understand it."

"That isn't the same thing."

"It's the answer I can give."

Elliot wanted to challenge him, but Roman had already moved to the next blank line.

"What about kissing?"

"Only when we need to practice a scene."

"Who decides when we need practice?"

"We both do."

Roman nodded. "Then write that."

Elliot added the final rule.

Roman read the completed page before handing the notebook back.

"When do we start?" he asked.

"Tomorrow."

"All right."

Roman collected their bowls and carried them to the kitchen. He rinsed the dishes despite Elliot telling him to leave them.

At the door, Roman put on his coat and looked back.

"You should save my number."

"I knew it was you."

"You still didn't answer."

"You sat outside my apartment."

Roman accepted the criticism with a slight movement of his mouth.

"Good night, Elliot."

He reached for the handle.

Elliot looked down at the rules. "You never agreed to number five."

Roman's hand remained on the door.

"I can agree not to demand anything from you," he said. "I can't decide in advance what I'll feel."

Elliot tightened his grip on the notebook. "Have you already broken the rule?"

Roman's eyes stayed on him.

The silence made Elliot's face grow warm.

Roman opened the door. "Do we start tomorrow, or does a goodbye kiss qualify as rehearsal?"

"Tomorrow."

"Breakfast at six-thirty."

"I can get my own breakfast."

"I know."

The door closed behind him.

Elliot remained on the couch, staring at the words

No feelings

until the letters lost their shape.

He slept badly.

The bathtub returned each time he closed his eyes, followed by Roman standing in the doorway and asking for a goodbye kiss.

Shortly after six, Elliot's phone buzzed.

I'm outside. Breakfast is in the car.

He considered ignoring the message.

At six twenty-eight, he left the apartment.

Roman's sedan waited beside the curb. Elliot opened the passenger door and found coffee in the cup holder and a warm paper bag on the seat.

Roman glanced at the dashboard clock. "Two minutes early."

"This is rehearsal."

"Of course."

Elliot climbed in and closed the door.