“Okay, that was great,”Troy says, and it’s like being yanked back into cold reality, remembering that this is all fake, that we’re filming a movie and tons of people are watching us. Blake’s arms drop again, and the laughter dissolves into a pit in my stomach.
Especially now that the memory of that first sex scene is inevitably leading to the memory of later that night.The first time Blake and I made love for real.The first time I really knew that sex could be so much more than I’d ever experienced before.
“This time,”Troy says, leaning forward on his chair so that his elbows rest on his knees, “I want you guys to fall when he grabs you, Kim. Like, roll a bit so Blake is on his back and Kim on top. Yeah?”
Oh, god. My whole body flushes, between that memory and what he wants us to do.
It’s nothing, I tell myself, nodding that I understand, unable to look over to see if Blake is doing the same.
It’s definitely nothing to him. So it needs to be nothing to me.
I ball my hands into fists. I’m a professional. I can do this.
We run it again, and Blake grabs me, and we fall to the sand and roll, and suddenly I’m on top of him, my body pressed up against his, my knees on either side of his hips, and my sand-speckled hair hanging down onto his chest. His eyes are so green right now, his mouth just slightly open, looking a little stunned, and my pulse pounds in my ears.
“Great, keep going,”Troy calls out. “Now Kim, ride up on him a bit.”
I can’t breathe, but I shift up, and god, Bertram was right, my boobs are practically falling out of my corset and right into Blake’s face. His hands are on the backs of my thighs, this familiar, amazing feeling, and my heart is slamming against my ribcage. My whole body is aware of every place it’s touching his.
Aware of every place it desperately wants to touch his.
“And, cut,”Troy says. “That was great, guys. I think we got it.”
Thank god we got that in one take.Thank god Blake’s such a good actor, while I’m still in love with him and hardly needed to act at all.
I meet eyes with him, and everything in me aches and aches. I want him, and I love him, and I can’t stop either of those feelings. I feel the tears about to come back.
I push myself off him and get to my feet with as much dignity as I can muster in these heels in this sand, and I walk off without turning around.
Because when it comes to Blake, I already know I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking back.
Six
Blake
I’m lying on the futon in my trailer, a thin layer of sand still dusting the back of my costume, my entire body on fire. I suppose I’m glad we started with this scene—got it over with, as it were. I can still feel Kim’s hands on my shoulders as she was lying on top of me, her thighs where they hugged my hips.The body rush when she rode up on me is still burning, my mind returning to all the times that she touched me because she wanted to. Because she loved me and not because some director was yelling at her to do it.
Until I ruined it.
I groan and sling my forearm over my eyes.Thirty minutes, and I have to be back on set. My trailer is air conditioned by the humming window unit, but it’s not enough to cool down, and I sure as hell can’t shower.There’s not enough time for makeup and wardrobe to reassemble me.
I hate myself, most of all because Kim could just get up and walk away dispassionately. She feels nothing more for me now than resentment. It’s over, and it has been for years, and I don’t know why I can’t finally accept that. We’ve still got the scene where I kiss her to film—later this week, unless the schedule changes—and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive it.
“Knock, knock,” Kelsey says as she opens the door. “Just here to find out how your costume is fitting. It looks great, but—” She stops short as she spots me lying on the futon in a miserable heap. “Oh, man. We haven’t given you heatstroke, have we?”
“No.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead, and I’m sure makeup will need to touch that up. “The costume is fine. One of my bracers keeps slipping, but I think we just need to use some tape.”
Kelsey doesn’t respond about the tape. “You look sad. Is it Kim?”
I take a deep breath. I shouldn’t be talking about this on set. In fact, I never talk about it at all. Even my family thinks I’m at peace about the divorce—except my mother and my sister, who seem to psychically know the truth, which is the reason I rarely go home anymore.
But right now, if I don’t vent this tension somewhere, I feel like I’m going to snap. Kelsey might not be my best friend, but she’s here. “Yeah,” I say. “It’s Kim.”
“Hard working with the ex, huh? You guys looked really happy to be rubbing up against each other.”
I wish that wasn’t acting on her part. “Was I that obvious?”
Kelsey shrugged. “I just call it like I see it. Maybe you guys should just have sex to cut the tension.”
