“Me? I’m the one who was trying to help you.” He sends a shower of snow back in my direction.
I turn my head, and suddenly he’s there. Right there. His blue eyes and his chiseled jaw and his perfect lips just a few inches from my face. A snowflake is caught on his eyelashes, and I have to fight the urge to lean over and brush it off.
“Not my fault you fell for the oldest trick in the book.” I have to purse my lips together to keep from laughing. And lace my fingers together to keep from reaching for him.
“You are a menace to society, Harper.” His words lack bite. They might even be traced with an edge of humor. Grayson’s breath catches, visibly stilling his chest.
“Back atcha, West.”
A shadow falls over both of us.
“I think we got what we need for today.” Liz offers me a hand, pulling me out of the snow and wiping my back clean. She offers Grayson a hand next, and I’m somewhat surprised when he takes it. Liz studies us both with aneyebrow arched. “What I just saw on my screen is exactly what’s been missing this whole time. The chemistry is there.” She claps Grayson on the shoulder and looks between us. “So let’s get our heads out of our asses and start being professionals.”
Color rises in his cheeks, and I imagine how much it must sting to be reprimanded in front of me. Any hint of lightness fades, and his jaw visibly tenses. “Yeah, well, if you don’t like it, you’re welcome to find someone to replace me.” He stalks away, storming back through the front door of the inn. I turn my face away from Liz so she doesn’t see how much it burns.
—
When I push through the door of my room, I go directly for the bed, flopping on it face-first and burying my head in the mound of throw pillows.
For a minute out there, it seemed like Grayson and I actually might have had a moment. Not a romantic, sparks-flying moment, obviously, but more like an I-could-maybe-tolerate-you moment. At this point, even just tolerating each other feels like it might be the best-case scenario. But then almost instantly, our fragile snowball of a truce melted away as quickly as if it were dropped into hell. Which I’m pretty sure is where I must be currently located.
My suspicions are confirmed when the pesky ring of an incoming FaceTime call buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. Somehow, I already know who it will be.
I swipe to accept the video call with a sigh. “How come you respect Liz’s aversion to phone calls and yet you have no problem FaceTiming me without warning?”
“I birthed you and merely adopted Liz, so she has specialprivileges.” My mom’s face fills my screen, her reading glasses low on her nose.
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I push myself up into a sitting position, leaning back on the mountain of throw pillows, settling in for what will surely be a longer call than I want it to be.
“Enough about you. Tell me everything. How’s it going? What’s the inn like? How’s the rest of the cast? The idiot boy?”
I prop my phone on my knee so I can rub at both temples, attempting to dispel the sudden onslaught of a migraine. “It’s going fine. The inn is gorgeous. The cast is awesome. The idiot boy is still an idiot.”
She sighs loudly and dramatically. We should have put her in this movie instead of me. “Do I need to come up there and talk some sense into him?”
“That might be the only thing that could make the situation worse.”
Frowning, she brings her face closer to the phone, as if that will somehow bring my own face closer. “What did he do?”
I let out my own long sigh. “He’s not doing anything. That’s the problem. I had more chemistry with my cardboard cutout of Zac Efron.”
“To be fair, anyone could have chemistry with Zac Efron, even in 2D.” She practically giggles.
“Mom. Gross.” I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “Anyway, he’s just tanking the scenes he has with me, seemingly on purpose, which makes it impossible to film a romantic comedy, since he is neither romantic nor comedic.”
“What a dick.” She gives a sarcastic eyeroll.
I drop the phone and bury my face in my hands. “You. Are. Not. Helping.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Take me out of the blankets.” The sound of her voice is muffled, and I’m tempted to pretend the call was dropped.
But I’m a good daughter, so I fish her out of the covers. “Do you have any actual advice, or do you want to continue to make fun of this snow-covered hellhole you and my supposed best friend pushed me into? Did you ever have problems finding chemistry with your costars?”
“I had chemistry with everyone, baby.” She winks, and I throw up a little in my mouth.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t go!” Her mouth purses like she’s holding in another joke. But she takes a deep breath and resets her face, and when she speaks again, she’s gone into problem-solving-mom mode, which is, frankly, the best mode. “Okay. Is he tanking all of his scenes, or just the ones with you?”
