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I had no other choice.
She wasn’t going to stop talking. Anyone could see that. They’d have caught us fighting, busted, game over. Our sweetSwipestylesspread would’ve turned into a takedown, the role of a lifetime to a huge tabloid joke.
Ihadto kiss Lacey. I didn’t enjoy it. Not even when she did that thing with her tongue, that quick little flicker that made my heart leap. Or when she sighed and went soft in my arms, melting against me as I held her close.
“We should, uh…” she said.
“Yeah. Yeah, we should.”
I hadn’t wanted to kiss her, hadn’tbeenwanting to. Hadn’t been craving her since our near-kiss in my suite, since that first time I’d caught her sweet almond scent. I certainly didn’t want to kiss her again, even if her lips were pink and inviting. Even if she was trembling, her eyes huge and dark. Her pupils were blown — was that shock or lust? Was she about to slap me or pull me back in for more?
“We’re back,” called Berg. “Where is everybody? I said ‘take five,’ right? Five, not fifteen? I tell you, these extras, and where are my leads?”
Lacey’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. She laughed, high and nervous, a little too loud. I stared at her fingers pressed up to her lips. Those lips weren’t fair, too plump, too tempting. How could anyone look at them and not want to kiss her?
“Everyone hurry. We’re losing our light.”
We weren’t, but Berg was already on edge. I leaned out and waved to him.
“Here, on our way.”
Lacey started back to the set, but I caught her arm.
“Listen, about earlier, about what you said — you’re not the only one nervous about today’s shoot.” I glanced over at Berg, and Iris behind him. “I was trying to be perfect. To do everything right. I guess what I’ve really done is open mouth, insert foot.”
Lacey stopped walking, her pretty brow furrowed. “You’renervous, really?”
I exhaled on a huff. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is new to me too, my personal life splashed all over the tabloids. Apart from the odd time our feud would flare up, I’ve kept my public image focused on work.”
“And our feud was page-six stuff, not front-page headlines.”
“Exactly.” I frowned, seeing Berg was waving us over, and held up a finger to tell him to wait. “If I try to ease off, can you do the same?”
“Yeah, I can do that. But I don’t know ifhecan.” She nodded at Berg, who was practically hopping. I noticed him eyeing the rain machine hose, and Lacey’s eyes widened as her gaze followed mine. I didn’tthinkhe’d spray us, but with Berg, who could say? We jogged back to our places before he could try.
Our next take, I thought, was pretty near perfect; my anger, her shame, and the tension between us. But Berg had found an admirer in Iris, and seemed to be enjoying walking her through his process.
“A lot of directors will build a scene from short takes. If I were one of them, I’d splice this together — Eric’s angry performance from earlier this morning, that sensitive acting from Lacey right now. Cutting between them, justboomon their faces.” He framed his face with his hands to signal a closeup. “But I like to do longer takes, one constant shot. The scene feels more real that way, the chemistry. The passion. They both have to nail it at the same time. Lacey, Eric, we’re going again.”
We went again, then again, and I thought we nailed it. Still, Berg kept pushing, demanding more. Our third take was fire, our fourth even hotter. Our fifth had enough heat to burn the screen. I’d hit this wild groove fueled by desire and denial, and whatever Lacey was feeling, she was in it with me. I fed off her performance and she fed off mine, everything we’d been holding back crackling between us. Anger and want. Resentment. Confusion. Her lingering touch. My heart beating fast. That deep, rising heat as she cradled me to her. I wanted to hold her, to push her away, to take her and shake her and demand answers: she’d kissed me back. Why? Had she meant it? Did she feel it too, or was she playing along? And now, was she angry, or did she want — did shewant?
Berg shoutedcut. Lacey’s thumb grazed my lip. Her clumsy caress left a smear of fake blood.
“Cut, cut, we’ve got it. You can get up.”
Lacey blinked, then jerked back, like a spell had been broken. “The machines are too loud. The damn rain machines.”
I sat up, half-dazed. The machines sputtered out. Lacey turned her back on me to wring out her hair.
“That’s a wrap on today,” said Berg. “Go and get changed, but meet me back in my trailer.” He winked at Iris. “That goes for you too. I have a surprise for you, a sneak peek of our footage. A little exclusive to share with the fans.”
Iris perked up at that, all bubbling excitement, but I barely noticed. Lacey was walking away. I jogged to catch up with her, but when I did, my words failed me. What could I say to her?Did you feel it too?If she hadn’t, I’d be verging on sexual harassment. If shehad… what would that mean? Mixing real feelings with a fake marriage could only end in disaster.
Lacey cut through the awkwardness, tugging at her collar. “These fatigues need a warning.Itchy when wet.”
In that instant, I saw myself unbuttoning her collar. Cupping my hand to her neck. Soothing the itch away. I shook my head to clear it. I was itching as well, my pits, my thighs chafing.
“The worst,” I agreed. “Got some aloe in my trailer.”
