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bbywhitefox123 · 26 days ago

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Summary: it started as a dumb tiktok live where drew was doing cassie rhett’s makeup (badly) and somehow that spiraled into them on the couch talking about cardio and burning calories and sex.

Warnings : mentions of sex and food.

Cassie had her phone propped up against her mirror, soft LED lights glowing as she expertly blended concealer under her eyes. “Okay, so, yes — the rumors about me doing that Netflix show are true,” she said, brushing powder over her nose. “I can’t say much yet, but let’s just say… it’s giving mess. It’s giving scandal. And I play the scandal.”

user: ur literally our new it girl

user: her skin is glowing like she hasn’t cried in months

user: can’t wait for the netflix drop 😭

user: IS DREW STAYING AT UR PLACE THO???

user: girl blink if u and drew are sharing a bed

user: who’s the man walking shirtless in the back last night 🤨

user: what’s the name of the concealer plss

She dabbed highlighter onto her cheekbone and smiled. “I love that you guys are so invested in my personal life.”

Right on cue, the apartment door creaked behind her. Drew’s voice, low and casual, echoed through the TikTok Live like a lightning bolt.

“Hey, I’m gonna DoorDash— you want anything?”

Cassie froze. Mid-brush. Eyes wide. She turned to stare directly into the camera, lips slightly parted, like a deer caught in influencer headlights.

user: LMFAOOO CAUGHT IN 4K

user: HE’S AT HER PLACE

user: DOORDASHING?? BABY HE LIVES THERE

user: SHE’S STUNNEDDDDDD

user: BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED HELP GIRL

She cleared her throat dramatically and plastered a sweet smile on her face. “Umm… Drew, actually, do you wanna do my makeup?” she called over her shoulder, praying to every god that the sudden deflection would work.

Drew popped his head into frame, confused but grinning. “Like… on you?”

She nodded, barely keeping it together. “Yeah. It will be good content.”

Drew shrugged, walking over. “Alright, bet. But if I poke your eye out, don’t sue me.”

Cass turned back to the camera, laughing nervously. “Anyway. This is either going to end in beauty guru excellence or absolute clownery. Stay tuned.”

user: omg this is couple coded I don’t care

user: do the boyfriend does my makeup tag plsssss

user: why is this better than TV

And all Cassie could do was smile, blush, and pray he didn’t say anything that would make things worse… or better. Depending on who was watching.

Cassie scooted to the side a little, patting the stool next to her. “Okay, sit, Starkey. Let’s see what skills you’re bringing to the glam table.”

Drew sat, clearly amused. He squinted at the products scattered across her vanity like they were alien artifacts. “Why are there… five different sponges?”

“They all have a purpose,” Cass deadpanned. “Don’t disrespect the beauty blender army.”

user: HIS HANDS ON HER THIGH RN??

user: not the husband and wife energy

user: he looks like he wants to eat her up and I support him

user: THIS IS BETTER THAN NETFLIX

user: blink twice if u guys r sleeping together and lying about it

Cassie tried not to look at the comments. It would only make her blush harder.

Drew picked up a brow pencil and inspected it like a weapon. “So… do I just draw them on like… cartoon eyebrows?”

Cass slapped his arm, giggling. “You better not make me look like a disney villain.”

“You’re lucky I’m a visual learner, Cass” he muttered, leaning closer. The proximity wasn’t helping her composure. He smelled like sandalwood and whatever hormones men like Drew radiated at all times.

He focused hard, tongue poking out a little as he lightly filled her brows. “Okay, not bad. I’m like… an artist or something.”

Cassie, eyes closed, smirked. “A tortured one.”

user: he’s so gentle it’s killing me

user: the way he looks at her HELLO???

user: just tell us u live together and kiss already”

Drew squinted at the next product. “What’s this—blush?”

Cass peeked with one eye. “That’s my lip liner.”

“…Okay, where’s the blush?”

She handed him the compact and pointed at her cheek. “Be gentle. I bruise easy.”

“Oh?” he said, smirking just enough to make her stomach flip. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She glared at the camera, fully blushing now. “I hate all of you.”

user: WE HAVEN’T EVEN SAID ANYTHING YET???

user: GIRL UR BLUSHING WE’RE JUST WITNESSES

user: this is enemies to lovers except they skipped the enemies part

user: drop the address we’ll send wedding gifts

Drew tapped blush on her cheek delicately, his other hand resting on her knee for balance. It was such a subtle move—but not to the 23.5k viewers currently dissecting every second of this.

When he was done, Cass opened her eyes slowly. “So?”

Drew looked at her, his face unreadable for a second. Then he grinned. “You look hot.”

Cassie blinked. “Thanks, Joey.”

“Anytime, baby.”

And she swore the TikTok app almost crashed.

user: EXCUSE ME????????

user: JOEY? BABY??? WHO GAVE YOU TWO THE RIGHT???

user: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user: I AM SWEATING

user: THIS IS ROMCOM CINEMA IN REAL TIME

Cass finally laughed, pressing a kiss to her hand and blowing it to the camera. “That’s enough for one live, I’m ending this before y’all give me a PR nightmare.”

She reached to end the live—but not before Drew leaned in and whispered, “You should’ve let me do your lipstick.”

Cass tried to change the topic quickly, fanning her blushing cheeks with a powder compact as she laughed awkwardly. “Okay, okay—love y’all, but I gotta go. I’ll stream Sims later tonight, probably start a new save where I ruin everyone's lives on purpose. Byeee!”

She ended the live and tossed her phone face down onto the vanity with a dramatic sigh.

Then she turned to Drew, who was still lounging there with the smug satisfaction of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

“Joey,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him, “you are not helping the dating rumors.”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so it’s totally fine when you’re flirting, but I can’t?”

Cass crossed her arms, still visibly blushing despite her best efforts. “Well, I’m doing it to promote the movie, obviously.”

“And I’m not?” he said, glancing over her makeup products with fake offense. “I just beat your face to perfection on live—people are gonna start calling me your glam daddy.”

Cass choked on a laugh. “Please don’t say ‘glam daddy’ ever again.”

Drew grinned. “Too late. It’s my new brand.”

Cass shook her head, grinning despite herself. “Still—you're out here calling me baby on live. That's not PR-safe behavior.”

He leaned in a little, eyes twinkling. “You call me baby all the time.”

“That’s method acting,” she said, mock-defensive.

“Oh?” Drew smirked. “So you're telling me that all those nights on the press tour, in hotel lobbies, red carpets, ordering takeout—when you call me ‘baby’ like it’s your birthright… you’re just staying in character?”

Cass opened her mouth, then closed it. “...Yes.”

“Mm-hmm.” Drew stood up slowly and stretched, his shirt riding just enough to show a sliver of skin. “You should win an Oscar for how committed you are.”

Cass refused to look flustered again, grabbing her makeup brushes in a panic just to keep her hands busy. “I’m literally going to make you play the Sims with me tonight and kill your Sim in the pool.”

He walked toward the door with a smirk. “Sure, baby. Just don’t forget to take the ladder out first.”

She threw a brush at him. It bounced off his back as he laughed and disappeared into the hallway.

And Cass stood there alone, staring into the mirror, cheeks still pink—wondering when pretending stopped feeling like pretending.

Cassie found Drew hot.

Not like, objectively hot—though yeah, that too. She wasn’t blind, after all. The internet had been thirsting over him since he first got cast, and Cassie had, at the time, rolled her eyes like everyone did that with their new favorite white boy. But then she met him. And suddenly, all the jokes weren’t so funny anymore because… yeah. The guy was stupidly attractive.

But that wasn't the part that really got her.

It was the way he used to get all awkward and flustered whenever she flirted with him during press—like he hadn't gotten the PR script or hadn’t expected her to be so quick with the banter. Like he couldn't decide whether to laugh, blush, or flee. She liked that. Loved it, actually. The power trip of catching a grown man that fine off guard was addicting.

But now?

Now he was flirting back. Effortlessly. Casually. Like it was second nature.

And that? That was dangerous.

Because it wasn’t feeling like PR anymore. It hadn’t for a while.

Especially not since he started sleeping in her guest bedroom instead of a hotel like everyone else on the press team. She’d offered—jokingly, at first—but he accepted. And now he was here. Every morning. Eating cereal in her kitchen shirtless. Asking where she kept the oat milk. Calling her baby in that lazy North Carolina drawl that she couldn’t tell was real or just for her benefit anymore.

She told herself it was still pretend.

But the way her stomach flipped when he touched her lower back absentmindedly while reaching for a mug? That wasn’t pretend.

The way she noticed his cologne lingering on the couch where they’d watched movies too late the night before?

Not pretend either.

It was fine. It was still PR.

Until it wasn’t.

Cassie shook her head, deciding to mentally shelf the Drew Dilemma—alongside her other delusions—and focus on something that made sense: food, fashion, and fake smiles.

She grabbed her iPad, pulling up her notes for the next A-List Kitchen episode. Jonathan Bailey was set to film with her Friday, and she still hadn’t locked down the menu or her look. She had ideas—something British with an ale twist, maybe a cheeky orange dessert—and a slinky halter dress she hadn’t worn yet. It was all half-formed chaos, but at least it was her chaos.

🎞️

At 5 PM, hunger hit her like a truck. And not the clean, almond-butter-on-avocado-toast kind. No—real hunger. The kind that clawed through her stomach and screamed feed me cheese or die.

She could smell it first—greasy, warm, sinful—pizza.

Her stomach growled like it had rights.

“Be strong,” she muttered under her breath, sipping a flavored sparkling water that tasted like regret and disappointment.

But then she heard a crinkle and a low chuckle from the kitchen. And her willpower crumbled like feta on a Greek salad.

She tiptoed over like she was about to commit a crime and found Drew sitting at the island, a half-eaten pizza box in front of him, a slice folded in one hand, his phone cradled between shoulder and ear.

He was laughing softly—voice low and casual in that I’m talking to someone I’m comfortable with tone.

Cassie leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to look casual and not like someone who was a second away from snatching that slice out of his hand.

Drew clocked her immediately.

His eyes flicked up—busted—and without missing a beat, he ended the call.

“Alright, I’ll call you later,” he said quickly. And then, after a beat, “Yeah—yeah. I will. Bye.”

The phone clicked shut.

And Cassie, with one brow arched, asked the obvious: “Who's that?”

Drew licked a smudge of marinara from his thumb and shrugged like it didn’t matter.

“No one.”

That made her very curious.

“One of your best girl friends that you swear you don’t date but lowkey have been inside?” Cass teased, stepping closer with a smirk that said I’m kidding but also maybe not really.

Drew choked slightly on his crust, coughing once before blinking up at her with wide eyes.

“Jesus, Cass,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Could you not say it like that while I’m eating?”

She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a shit-eating grin on her face. “What? It’s a valid question.”

He gave her a long, unimpressed stare. “No, it’s not.”

She shrugged innocently. “You didn’t deny it though.”

Drew sighed, biting back a smile. “You’ve got issues.”

“You’ve got mystery women who call you ‘later,’” she shot back, plucking a piece of pepperoni from his box like she owned it. “And pizza that smells like sex. Gimme a slice before I start making accusations.”

He shoved the box toward her, shaking his head. “Here. Take the one with the most grease since you’re apparently off carbs and self-control.”

Cass took it without shame. “Thank you, my temporary roommate and emotional support PR stunt.”

Drew opened his mouth to reply, but paused—like he was trying to decide if he should go for flirty or honest. Cass looked at him, chewing, and something about the moment felt... too quiet.

Too intimate for two people who kept pretending it was just PR.

And that was dangerous.

So Cass broke the tension with a wink. “Still not answering my question, by the way.”

Drew looked her dead in the eyes. “No. I haven’t been ‘inside’ anyone lately, thanks for the concern, Twitch Mommy.”

Cass nearly choked on her slice. “God, I hate that chat calls me that.”

Drew grinned. “You love it.”

“…A little.”

Cass licked some grease from her finger—slow, lazy, not even thinking about it—but Drew held his breath like she’d just dropped the towel in a movie scene. She was too hot. Too casually hot. The kind of hot that ruined lives.

“I thought you were on a diet,” he murmured, eyes flicking between her lips and her finger like they had personally offended him.

“I’ll just fast longer,” she said, chewing with zero shame.

“Or,” Drew offered, shifting his stance just slightly, “you could come with me to the gym.”

Cass froze, mid-bite.

The gym? With him?

Absolutely the fuck not.

She could barely handle him shirtless and sleepy in her kitchen. In a gym, where he made those low grunting sounds and sweat dripped down his chest like a Calvin Klein ad? Where he probably wore those slutty little shorts and backwards hats like he didn't know what he was doing to people?

No. Fucking. Way.

“I hate the gym,” she declared immediately, holding her slice like a weapon of moral defense.

Drew smirked, clearly amused. “You hate being seen suffering, is what you mean.”

“I hate pain,” she corrected. “And you don’t suffer at the gym, you thrive. You’re in there flirting with mirrors and making noises that should be censored.”

He raised a brow. “You’ve been listening?”

“I live here, Joey. I hear everything.”

He stepped a little closer, arms crossed, looking far too cocky for someone who was still chewing crust. “Then maybe next time you should join me instead of eavesdropping.”

“I’d combust.”

He grinned. “I’d pay to see that.”

“OnlyFans?” she teased, then added in a mock-serious voice, “Wait, maybe I should start one. CassieDoesCardio.”

Drew laughed, head tipping back slightly. “You’d break the internet.”

“Again,” she said with a wink, finishing the last bite of her slice. Then, like she hadn't just threatened his whole nervous system, she turned on her heel and walked away, hips swinging like she knew.

Drew watched her walk away in those tiny sleeping shorts—the ones that should be illegal with how they hugged her ass—and that little black tank top that clung to her like it was custom stitched to ruin him.

The curve of her hips.

The small of her waist.

The way her hair swayed as she disappeared around the corner.

He blinked, like he was trying to snap himself out of it. But the damage was already done.

Before he even realized it, his feet were moving—pizza slice abandoned on the counter, phone left forgotten somewhere—his body following her into the living room like he was tethered to her orbit.

Cass was curled up on the couch already, legs tucked beneath her, flipping through Netflix with one hand and a bowl of grapes in the other. Goddamn grapes. Like that somehow undid the pizza. Or the mayhem she just caused in his brain.

She looked up as he entered. “You want something to watch or are you just gonna stare at me like I’m on mute?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I was… seeing if you were gonna eat more carbs.”

Cass smirked. “You’re obsessed with my diet all of a sudden.”

“I’m obsessed with how you act like pizza doesn’t count if it’s after five,” he replied, stepping closer and dropping onto the couch next to her.

She shifted just slightly—barely—but it was enough to bring her thigh against his. Warm skin. Bare. Soft. Torture.

“I don’t count carbs,” she said with faux confidence, popping a grape in her mouth, “I manifest eating them makes me skinny.”

Drew let out a low laugh, but his gaze lingered on her. Her mouth. Her flushed cheeks from laughing. The way she always half-teased and half-tested him like she wanted to see what he’d do if she pushed just a little too far.

Cassie turned to him, a little playful light in her eyes. “Why’d you really follow me in here?”

Drew held her stare, his voice low. “Because you walked away like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanted me to follow.”

Drew’s eyes darkened as he leaned a little closer, the heat between them thickening. His gaze slid over her—green eyes sparkling with mischief, lips slightly parted—and then down, where the outline of his growing arousal pressed against the fabric of his jeans. Firm, undeniable, the way it curved and hinted at all the things unsaid, halfway-hard and begging for attention.

“You know what burns calories and feels really good?” he murmured, voice low and rough.

Cass’s lips twitched, already racing. “Please don’t say the Stairmaster, because I swear to God, TikTok—” She kept talking, but the words blurred, her mouth moving too fast for him to catch every syllable. The way she talked so quickly, so nervously, just made his pulse spike harder.

“Sex,” Drew cut in, voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

Cass blinked, caught between playing along and pretending she didn’t just hear that. The safe move was unclear.

“Like method acting?” she finally threw out, laughing awkwardly, cheeks flushing as she tried to sound casual but failed spectacularly.

Drew’s smirk deepened, fingers twitching at the edge of her waist. “Definitely method acting. And maybe a little cardio.”

Cass swallowed hard, trying to hold his gaze without melting. “So… you’re volunteering to be my workout partner?”

He leaned in just enough that she could smell his cologne—woodsy, a little spicy, and completely intoxicating.

“Only if you promise to make it fun.”

Cassie laughed awkwardly at that, shifting on the couch like the cushions had suddenly grown teeth.

“You’re not serious,” she said, but her voice faltered halfway through, like even her own mouth didn’t buy it.

Drew smiled—but it wasn’t the usual lazy, teasing grin he gave her when they bickered about playlists or debated what they should DoorDash. This one was crooked, nervous, like he’d just confessed something he couldn’t take back.

He shrugged. “Method acting, remember?” His eyes flicked down to the space between them on the couch, where their knees were almost touching. “I was just… matching your energy.”

Cassie’s stomach dropped. “Matching my energy?” she echoed, brow furrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

Drew ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking like he wanted to crawl into the cushions and disappear. “I don’t know. You flirt, I flirt. You talk about calories, I make a dumb joke. You wear those shorts that are basically illegal—”

“Okay, wow,” Cassie interrupted, holding up a hand. Her laugh was sharper this time. “So you were being for real?”

Drew hesitated—too long. “No. I mean… I was acting. Playing along. That’s it.”

Cassie stared at him, trying to decode his face like it was written in a language she should already know. She hated how her heart was speeding up like he had said something real. Like he meant it.

“You’re a terrible actor,” she said finally, quieter.

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