Page 22 of Romance Is Dead

As we practiced, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed coaching him. It was nice not to feel the pressure of performing myself, and to instead focus solely on what Teddy was doing. It was gratifying to watch him finally get out of his head and loosen up, to watch the lines between Teddy and his character start to blur. Was his cocky and sexually charged character strikingly similar to his own personality? Yes. But I wasn’t going to point that out now.

Once Teddy had mastered the first half of the scene, we moved on to the next part, when it was time for the game to begin and my character would be dared to start the seance.

“Truth or dare?” Teddy asked, finally nailing the line with just enough flirty arrogance.

“Dare.” I said, my voice filled with trepidation.

“I dare you. . .” Teddy paused, glancing around the room as he pretended to search for an idea, “. . . to give me a lap dance.”

I nearly choked. “Excuse me? That’s not in the script!”

“Um, yes it is.”

Flustered, I flipped through the pages. Sure enough, there was Teddy’s line, just like he’d read it—the seance didn’t begin for another few pages. My stomach dropped. They must have revised the script since the last time I read it. I had to admit it made sense for the story—it would launch our on-screen romance while pushing my character out of her goody-two-shoes comfort zone. But at that moment, I would’ve rather chewed foil than perch my ass anywhere near Teddy’s lap.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to practice this part,” Teddy laughed. “I don’t expect you to have a lap dance memorized off the top of your head.”

“Actually, I do.”

The words flew out of my mouth before I realized I’d have been better keeping that information to myself.

Teddy’s eyes widened in a way that was annoying and more than a little insulting. “Damn, ok. I didn’t figure you for the type.”

I frowned, the memory of the night in the pool once again flaring up. Of course. I hadn’t been the type to make out with in a swimming pool then, and I wasn’t the type to do a lap dance now. It was infuriating. He didn’t even know me.

“Well, I am.” Grabbing my phone, I started scrolling through Spotify. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

Teddy cocked an eyebrow. “Absolutely.” He dragged the chair away from the desk and took a seat, motioning toward his lap. “Go for it.”

I could tell he was calling my bluff, sure I wouldn’t go through with it. But I wasn’t going to let him win.

“Perfect.” I found the song and got ready to queue it up. “Can’t wait.”

The truth was, I only knew the dance because I’d had to learn it for my movieDead Tide: my character performed it for her boyfriend as their yacht sank into shark-infested waters. The song was “My Heart Will Go On”.

Quickly, before I could change my mind, I pressed “play,” set my phone on the desk, and got into position.

It wasn’t until the tin whistles rang out that I realized how embarrassing this was going to be. But there was no way I could make up new choreography for a different song, and I wouldn’t remember the moves unless I had the music, too. Besides, I’d already made a huge deal about knowing the dance.

I had no choice but to commit.

As Celine’s breathy voice started to sing, I made my way toward Teddy, keeping my steps in beat to the slow rhythm. I ran my hands up and down my body, keeping my face sexy and sultry. Or at least, my best attempt at sexy and sultry. Teddy, meanwhile, looked like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. The first round of the chorus kicked in, and I tried not to imagine Jack and Rose clinging to their doomed door as I bent my knees and slowly lowered myself to the floor. My calves screamed, but I refused to hurry. I stroked down the tops of my thighs as I went, maintaining eye contact with Teddy as the lyrics praised the ability of love to go on.

This time, Teddy couldn’t hold back his snort of laughter.

“Stop,” I hissed, trying not to giggle myself. “This is serious.”

But who was I kidding? There was nothing serious about this. I could practically feel Celine’s disappointment in us.

The drums kicked in, ratcheting the tempo up a bit. I flipped myself flat onto my stomach, kicking my legs up and down before moving back up onto my knees and undulating my body up and down. I prayed the effect was alluring, rather than making me look like a fish flopping for its life.

Teddy crossed his arms, widening the spread of his legs as he frowned. “The script specified a lap dance. Not a floor dance.”

“I’m not finished yet!” I spat out a lock of hair that had gotten stuck in my mouth.

Right on cue, the music swelled to a new intensity. It was time for the finale.

I jumped to my feet, striding toward him with renewed purpose. Teddy leaned back in his chair as I approached, licking his lips as I moved like I was about to sit in his lap. But just as the climax of the song finally hit, I dramatically turned away from him instead. He moved his hands to my hips, but I slapped them away.

---