I throw back the cold water gratefully, watching as he does the same with his own bottle. A single drop escapes, trailing down that perfect neck and bobbing Adam’s apple, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
May the Lord help me.
“Do any of them have any special meanings, like your rings?”
“No, everything’s art. Love how my skin looks this way, apart from the one on my thigh.” He props his knee on a nearby log, and his shorts ride up just so.
I want to scream.
Can we go back to the deliciously charged moment when he was talking about ropes and trust? That felt infinitely more natural than watching him maintain these maddening boundaries I set and now desperately want to cross.
“These are Olympic rings, for my first gold four years ago.”
I can’t help but bring my hand toward it, hesitating as I trace over the rings and the crest above it—a rampant lion, scrollwork framing it, with a Latin motto beneath that reads “Fortis et Honorabilis.” “And this? ‘Brave and Honorable’?”
“That’s my family crest. Felt right to tie the two together.”
“I like them a lot. This and the rest of them.”
“Thank you, Reese. Maybe if your bad-girl method acting lasts, we’ll get you one.”
My eyes shoot wide open. “Oh gosh, I don’t know about that.” I laugh.
“I’m kidding.” He gives me a nudge with his elbow. “Scene feeling good?” he asks, all professional now. Two days, and I’ll be trading my bathtub practice for the actual lake. A month of preparation, and my stomach still flips.
“Still planning to play lifeguard for me?”
“A promise is a promise,” he says.
“I expect the full fantasy—zinc oxide on the nose, whistle, tiny red float?”
“What about a Speedo?”
“That…” I swallow hard, my mind instantly providing high-definition imagery. “That would definitely make drowning a real possibility.” He laughs, and I try to look annoyed instead of charmed.
“It’s not the water that’s making me nervous—it’s having to multitask with both hands,” I say, then immediately regret my phrasing as his eyebrows shoot up. “The sword! I meant handling the sword while trying not to drownanddeliver my lines.” His knowing smirk makes me stumble over my words. “You know what I mean! It’s hard to keep everything in my mouth—I mean, memorized! Oh heavens, stop looking at me.”
“But it’s so fun.”
Chapter 21
Reese
“Stop rolling!”
Felix again. I swear I’ve started to hear his screaming in my nightmares. The extras flinch in unison. We’re all conditioned to his outbursts by now. But the executives lining the trees just nod, like a director having a fit is as normal as drinking tea.
We’ve been set up a few meters away from the lake, at a makeshift ship dock, since 5:00 this morning, running the same sequence until my muscles ache, trying to nail whatever impossible standard he’s created in his head.
My temples throb.
Four weeks of constant criticism, of being told I’m inadequate, incorrect, or whatever arbitrary standard Felix has decided applies today.
“This is a hundred-fifty-million-dollar embarrassment!” he thunders. “I’ve crafted box office gold for fifteen years. All my movies have real action, real stakes. The studio wanted their female-led blockbuster, and now I’m stuck with…this.” He gestures dismissively in my direction, like I’m merely a prop that’s been misplaced.
I dig my fingernails into my palms, struggling to maintain composure as fatigue and frustration build inside me. I’verehearsed this scene with Dante until I could perform it in our sleep.
But Felix would criticize a sunrise for being too predictable.
