“Not if I have the choice.” I popped the tab and took a swig. “Try one. I brought a few flavors.”
She picked one up, reading the label.
“I’m partial to blueberry. The yellow ones are good too.”
She set the red can down and opted for the yellow one, popping it open and taking a sip.
“Ooh, I do like this one. Let me try the watermelon.” She opened that one as well, took a sip, and grimaced.
I nodded. “Yeah, those are gross. We can just dump it.” I took it from her and set it aside to trash later. “Energy drinks are a must have, working long hours like we do.”
“We?”
“Well, you’re one of us now, Final Girl.” I winked. “You might want to ask for some of these in your trailer once we start filming.”
I grabbed a slice of pizza and mowed down while she logged into her accounts and began to scroll.
“What do you want to watch?” she asked, automatically going to the horror category.
“Candyman? I could go for some Tony Todd action,” I said when the picture popped up.
She pushed play with no argument.
As if there were any argument not to watch Tony Todd.
“I need to go check on something,” she said as soon as the movie started. She bolted out of the room and was gone for almost ten minutes, leaving me to watch the movie solo. She returned looking just as frazzled as when she’d answered the door.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
She smoothed her hair and tugged her shirt down. “Yeah, of course. Why?” The last word came up an octave higher, making me think that something was definitely not all right. She must have seen the suspicion in my eyes, because this time when she came to the couch, she sat right next to me, tucking her legs underneath her. She sighed and offered me a small smile as she changed the subject. “This is...”
“Nice?” I offered when she couldn’t come up with a word.
I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into me.
“Nostalgic,” she said. “It’s weird, seeing you all grown up.”
I gulped as memories flashed before my eyes—specifically yesterday, when I had my head between her thighs.
“You’re even more beautiful now than you were before.” I reached up, brushing her hair behind her ear to admire her jewelry. She was wearing bright red metal tunnels the shape of hearts in her stretched lobes.
“Getting out of Hollywood did wonders for my self-confidence,” she said. “In Michigan, I could be whoever I wanted. I didn’t have to worry about not landing jobs because I got a tattoo.” She snickered.
“You still got a job here,” I argued. “And I have tattoos. You’ve seen them. What did you think of the chainsaw?” I teased.
She sat up some, and I took note that her cheeks had a flush to them.
“Groovy,” she said, quoting Ash’s infamous line fromEvil Dead. “And yes, I have seen your tattoos, but you can’t honestly say being a major Hollywood actor hasn’t held you back from getting more than just what you can hide under clothes.”
“All right, maybe.” I rolled my eyes but then leaned in, our lips only an inch apart. “That just makes seeing my tattoos a fun surprise. Did you like what you saw yesterday, Evie Reyes?”
Her breath hitched, her eyes widening.
I started to lean in when something fell upstairs.
The loud thump caused Evie to jerk away and stand. “I need to go check on that,” she said and flew from the room.
I stood and followed her. “Is everything okay?” I asked as I went up the stairs. I went to her mom’s room, directly above the den. “Evie?” I called.
