Heat

The mutual admiration society

EMBARRASSMENT is not what you need when the humidity is reaching 98 percent and you sweat just moving an eyebrow.

My face is a deeper shade of scarlet than it was after the cleaning and the room just went up 10 degrees, well at least where I was standing. In fact, let's just put me out on the road and use me as a stop sign.

There standing in front of me are two of the best looking men on the planet and some dork who shares my DNA.

Scott claps and cheers and the guy next to him, who I recognise from the millions of pictures which my smitten sibling has spammed me with, is his boyfriend Stuart, PR agent to the stars, laughs. The guy next to Stuart is also laughing but he is also something I didn't expect. I don't know what or who I thought would be coming when Scott said they'd be "bringing a friend" – one of Stuart's clients. But whatever it was, it wasn't 6'2 of pure man, it wasn't clear blue twinkling eyes..... it wasn't Tom Hiddleston.

I don't watch a lot of television or go to many movies or stage plays but I knew who this was – this was the sexiest Henry V ever, this was Hal, this was Coriolanus – this was ridiculous.

"It's rude to stare," my brother whispers in my ear. I haven't even noticed that he has moved across the room, bastard.

"It's manners to warn a girl you're going to deposit the best looking actor in the universe in my loungeroom," I hiss back, finally dragging my eyes from tall, currently dark and definitely handsome. He has the healthy glow of someone who has just jumped out of an airconditioned car into a furnace and his hair has decided to frizz free of whatever product had probably kept it from exploding the moment he landed in Brisbane. He has a few days growth of beard and resembles a Scottish farmer even more than my own golden-haired brother.

Scott now has me in a bear-hug and we are excitedly jumping up and down and trying not to make that sweaty skin noise when we finally detach.

It is actually amazing to see him, I've missed him beyond words. Scott is one of the few people in the world that gets me totally – mostly – when he's not teasing the shit out of me.

 We were always the odd ones out in our family of farmers and teachers.

The quiet sensitive ones. Okay Scott was the quiet one – I was too loud for my own good but that was my way of covering my insecurities and I had plenty.

 In fact I'm still like that – if I'm not living in my own head, creating, I'm a bit of a fish out of water.  When my niece, and Padwan, Rhiannon was diagnosed with Aspergers my sister Di rang me to excitedly explain that "now I made sense too".  So maybe that does explain me a bit. It probably explains Scott to a lesser extent – though I think he's more of a Sociopath than anything else.

He always came alive in front of a crowd -  on a stage - though now he seems a lot more comfortable in his own skin. Coming out, at least in private (he needs to eat and openly gay actors aren't always on the Hollywood leading man list)  – has probably done that for him.

He steers me over to the other two boys standing near the big wooden front door of my house and introduces me too "the love of my life" and "some guy called Tom".

I roll my eyes at my idiot brother and hug Stuart, who is pretty much my height with dark brown hair and dark eyes, before facing Tom. Stuart already feels like family so the hug was appropriate but Tom? God, okay this has to be more formal – I rub my sweaty hands down my equally sweaty top before offering him a hand. He laughs and shakes it. You can tell a lot by a handshake and his is firm but his hand is soft and I try not to go all school girl on him but I know I'm failing. I've met a lot of famous people in my life but close up this man is breathtaking and in a tight tee which is clinging to him in the heat. I could be forgiven for fainting or worse doing or saying something embarrassing.