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“We’ve almost got it.” Berg gestured. “Hey, kill those hoses.”
The rain tapered off. I stood up, dripping. Berg circled us, mumbling, thumbing his script.
“Eric, your anger, keep that like it is. That edge of hate right there, that’s what we need.” He turned to me next, and my stomach clenched up. “What are you feeling here? I mean, what’s Kate feeling?”
“Hurt,” I said. “Fear. Anger and shame. She doesn’t know what to feel. She— she still loves him. She’s never stopped loving him, but she’s his enemy now. She’s betrayed everything the two of them stood for, and she knows he must hate her, but part of her hopes—”
“Good. You understand her. So, where arethose feelings? I need them on here, not trapped in your chest.” He slapped his own cheeks to show where he wanted my feelings. “If it’s not on your face, it’s not on my screen. Everyone take five, and we’re going again.”
I sagged where I stood. Why couldn’t I focus? Eric had to be at least as stressed out as I was, maybe more so if he was fighting with Sam. How was he pushing past it while I flailed and floundered?
“I see them,” said Eric. “Your feelings, I mean. It’s all in your eyes, the hurt, the despair.”
I eyed him, suspicious, waiting for the mansplaining.
“It’s just, it’s a long shot, so it won’t show on screen. You need to exaggerate. Not to the point where you’re hamming it up, but you could crinkle your eyes more. Make your lip tremble.”
“Okay, that’s it.” I cast about for theSwipestylescrew. A few of them were chatting by the craft table, but Iris had vanished. I grabbed Eric by his sleeve and dragged him behind a hunk of set dressing, a bomb-blasted pile of crumbling concrete. He pulled away, startled.
“Whoa, Lacey. What—”
I crowded him back, out of sight of the crew. “I’ve had it, okay? You need to stop talking.”
“Talking? I wasn’t—”
“No, seriously, shut up.” I glanced over my shoulder and dropped my voice to a hiss. “I don’t know what you’re doing, if you’re trying to impress Berg, but I don’t need you telling me how to do my job. And what was that crap about me doing rom-coms? You think all your action flicks are, what,socerebral? Just because they’re for boys doesn’t mean—”
“We’re being watched.”
“What?”
Eric seized me by my shoulders and spun me around. My back hit the concrete and I choked on a shriek. Then his lips were on mine, his hair in my face, his firm hand gripping the back of my neck. He smelled of makeup and dirt and warm, clean sweat. His wet clothes snagged on mine, his hands in my hair. I grabbed his jacket to shake him or push him off me — I don’t know which I meant to do, but I did neither. Instead I clung onto him and drew him in closer. I bit his lip hard and felt him shudder. He made a deep sound, almost a moan.
“That’s the shot,” someone yelled. I barely heard them. Eric’s lips were chapped from days of tough shooting. His face was unshaven, his skin rough on mine. I felt myself melting into him, grasping for more of him. Running one hand up to twist in his hair. My head was quiet at last, except for his name. Except for his body, his breath, his heartbeat. I wanted this, needed it, maybe had all along.
Shutters clicked, a whole storm of them, too loud, too close. A flashbulb went off, harsh in my face. I sprang back, head spinning. What— what was—
“Beautiful!” The camera flashed again. “Cup his cheek just like that.”
I jerked my hand back. Eric’s hand fell from my hair. My lips were still burning from the rasp of his stubble. My heart was still pounding, and I wanted more.
“Sorry,” said Iris, popping up from nowhere. “Hey, guys? Maybe let them stealoneprivate moment?”
I closed my eyes as theSwipestylescrew melted away. I almost wished Eric would kiss me again. Not because I’d felt anything — I hadn’t. No way. Eric was still the same jerk as before. But he was a hot jerk, anddamn, he could kiss.
“It’s okay,” he said, and I felt my heart flutter. “I think they’re gone now, so feel free to slap me.”
Maybe I should have, but I’d gone all lightheaded, stars in my vision. Butterflies in my throat. A strange, floating feeling, like I’d stepped on a cloud.
Low blood sugar, that was my problem. I’d missed out on breakfast and my head was swimming. What I needed was a waffle with real maple syrup, not whatever this was.
Not Eric Harper.
CHAPTER 10
ERIC
Ihad to kiss Lacey.
