I pull the covers up to my chin, still going back and forth in my head on what I should do. To kiss the handsome American or not to kiss the handsome American, that is the question.
MILES
Ava is yammering away, but I’m lost in thoughts of Skye. Right before Ava arrived, I’m pretty sure we were going to kiss. Our faces were so close, I could feel her breath on my lips. But then, as soon as Ava came in, Skye took off like her hair was on fire.
If I go now, I might be able to catch her before she goes to bed.
“So what do you think?” Ava leans closer to me, her eyes shimmering in the firelight. I don’t know what she’s talking about because I didn’t hear a word she was saying.
“I have to go.” In my mind, I’m already catching up to Skye, maybe as she’s coming out of the bathroom, her face freshly washed. A small trickle of water running down her cheek to her silky nightgown.
“But what about my idea?”
“Yeah, sounds great,” I say as I bolt out the door, passing Callum on his way in.
“Ah, your friend found you?”
“Yep.” I wave over my shoulder as I bound up the stairs.
I slow my stride once I get to the hall. The bathroom is empty when I pass it. Walking to the end of the hall, I hesitate in front of her door.
Natalie’s voice echoes in my head.“Miles, you can’t date her. We’regoing to be filming there for weeks. We’re not set to wrap until a little before Christmas. What if you two have a lovers' spat? We can’t just switch castles mid-movie. We’d have to reshoot the whole thing for continuity.”
I back away slowly from the door. It’s better this way. The past few years, I’ve started to feel like my heart is whole again instead of slapped together with duct tape. I don’t need to go falling for a beautiful woman who lives halfway across the world and has expressed no interest in me romantically. Well, that last part isn’t true. I’m pretty sure she wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her.
A woman’s voice echoes down the hall as a door opens.
“The room is beautiful. I’m just wondering if there is anything slightly larger for Ms. Gareth.”
Callum’s voice booms, “Not if she likes heat.”
Before either of them can see me lingering outside Skye’s door, I duck into my room.
As I get out my running clothes for the morning, I let out a long, low breath. Focus. I just need to focus on my part in the film. The rest of the crew will be here tomorrow, Jake will arrive next week, and I’ll be too busy to worry about Skye.
I try to sleep, but I just keep thinking. Instead, I pull up Skye’s Instagram on my phone, scrolling photo after photo. Her captions are clever. She is a good writer—from what I can tell from these snippets. Posts with her face in them are few and far between. I find one with her standing in front of the loch, a scraggly tree branch dipping into the frame. The sun behind her is lighting up her hair like a rich glass of red wine, a glint in her eyes. I go to sleep wondering who took it.
In the morning,I drag myself to the kitchen for a cup of coffee before my run. I hate to eat before exercising—I get nauseous easily. But just a quick nip of coffee usually helps wake me up enough to not hate the first mile, and boy do I need to wake up this morning. Itossed and turned all night thinking about Skye, replaying our almost kiss in my head on a loop.
There’s already a pot of coffee on, so I pour myself half a cup. Callum and Skye both seem to be early risers. Must be tending to the animals. I sit for a moment at the kitchen table and gaze out the window. The sunrise is throwing pink splotches at the clouds, and the sky behind it is an almost unnatural shade of lavender. I feel an itch to be out there in it. To feel the ground under my feet and the cool morning air on my face. I take one more sip of coffee before heading out the door.
Not really sure where I should head, I run down the dirt road and decide to retrace the route of our horseback ride, but not go as far.
The cows are looking dapper this morning, shaggy hair in their eyes. The mist clinging to the grass at their feet makes them look even more like rock stars on stage with a smoke machine. “Rock on,” I call to them as I pass.
Muscle memory kicks in, and my feet find a comfortable rhythm. I put in my earbuds and turn on the Scottish folk music mix I’ve been listening to since I agreed to take the role. My blood pumps, heating up the chilly morning. I lose myself in the landscape, the music, the strong beating of my heart.
By the time I head back, I’m covered in sweat. I meant to do an easy three miles, but got a little carried away and probably went four, some of the hills on the way back making it not so easy.But it was glorious.
I slow to a walk. Once I’m close enough to the castle, I can see vans parked out front. Disappointment tugs my shoulders down. This will be my thirty-seventh film. More films than years I’ve been alive. I’m exhausted, and we haven’t even started shooting yet. These days, I enjoy the planning, the prepping, the lead-up of everything more than actually being on camera. How many times can you look longingly—or furiously, or pensively—off into the distance? That’s not the only source of my disappointment, though. I was enjoying my timealone with Skye. She took off the moment Ava got there yesterday. Will I get to hang out with her with all these people here?
I shake it off. It doesn’t matter. I’m not here to hang out with Skye. I’m here to yank my career back onto some kind of respectable track. I have a job to do.
Once I get inside,the castle is bustling. There is a low chatter of voices everywhere. The smell of bacon and coffee wafts through the air. I want to find it, but I also don’t want to see anyone yet.
I walk softly up the stairs. After I shower and dress, I’ll be able to face everyone.
“Milesicle!”
