Page 97 of Doing It for Love

“I’ll take that beautiful woman if you don’t mind,” he says with a grin. But it’s the grin that’s not really a grin. More like he’s trying to hold his lunch down.

Alec hurries me over and keeps the umbrella over my head while I get in. “Thanks!” I call out over the weather.

He nods and turns to leave, but Landon stops him, “Hey! Would you mind heading to our place and keeping Theresa company for a bit?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, man.”

Alec shuts my door and jogs off to his car. I turn to Landon, swiping at my snow-covered coat. “Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

The snow lightens as we head downtown. Landon rarely drives in the city, so as I’m warming my fingers by the heater I start taking wild guesses on where we’re going.

“You’re not going to get it,” he says after my fiftieth guess. He’s giving me a real grin now. “And we’re here.”

I look at the building I totally knew we were going after guess three, but I was having fun.

“I thought you were done shooting.”

“We are.” He cuts the engine and squeezes my hand twice. “Come on.”

I squeeze back before unbuckling and stepping out. There’s about a pound of ice melt on the cement, so I’m not too worried about falling as we make our way up the stairs and into the side studio at the school.

It’s pitch black, so Landon and I both pull out our phones and light up the hallway to a door a few feet down. He unlocks it and lets me in first, snapping the light switch on the side wall.

“Pretty awesome,” I lilt, letting my gaze drift over all the high-techy stuff. Four giant screens light up with parts of Landon’s movie, and the one in the middle is open to a Google account. I jolt when Landon knocks a zombie doll off the chair in the back. He quickly sets it on its perch. I try to move my eyes from the freaky thing.

“It’s ready,” he says, tucking his fingers into my coat from behind. He helps slide it off, then he takes care of his. “I just have to push send.”

“The Walking Stiff? It’s done?”

“Finished final edits four days ago.”

I trail my fingers over the keyboard, checking the desk chair for any more freaky dolls before I sit down. “And how long has it been sitting in this email to the festival judges?”

“Four days.”

I smile and turn to him running his hand over the back of his snow-covered hair.

“Why don’t you just send it?”

“I’m nervous.”

“It’ll be great.”

He shakes his head and takes a seat next to me. “It’s just…no one has seen it except for people who’ve been involved. So they’re obviously biased—”

“Can I watch it?”

“You think you can be unbiased?”

I laugh a little and gaze at the top screen, which is paused on a scene of Chantal swinging a shovel at a zombie with one leg. “No. But I bet it’s more nerve-wracking for you to let me watch it, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Then if you can letme, you can let a few judges.”

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