Page 53 of Romance Is Dead

“What’s it to you?” she purred. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” The question was less indignant and more of a challenge. An invitation.

No matter how alluring Chloe looked, I couldn’t take my eyes off Teddy. His tight white tee-shirt showed every ripple of muscle as he made his way across the room, and even when he wasn’t speaking, he commanded attention. He was magnetic. When had he gotten so good?

As they ran through the scene, it was strange hearing Chloe say the lines I had practiced with him just hours ago. It shouldn’t have been—I’d rehearsed other scenes with him before. But this one was different. Teddy had played the tension between us off as a joke, but a part of me still wondered if it had been real. The scene felt like it somehow belonged to us.

Now, Teddy tweaked his delivery to match Chloe’s tone, becoming even more coy and seductive. “What if I told you I was thinking about you when I was with her?”

From where I stood, I had a clear view of how close the two of them were. I bit my lip as Teddy pressed her against the wall, his hand hovering at her waist. He slowly drew closer, tilting his head to catch the light before whispering into Chloe’s ear.

“I was picturing you the entire time I was with her,” he rasped. “Pretending it was you, wishing it was you.”

Searing, white-hot jealousy snaked through my veins. I knew it wasn’t rational. They were just lines; it was just a scene. It was all pretend—words written in a script for people who weren’t real. Teddy and Chloe were just doing their jobs. But when I heard him say those words,I was wishing it was you, all I could think about was him wishing that I had been Chloe last night, picturing her when he had pressed me against the wall of my hotel room, pulling my hair until the space between my legs ached.

I should have left then, sparing myself from watching the rest of the scene. But I couldn’t tear myself away from what was coming next.

“What are you suggesting?” Chloe whispered, arching her back against the wall as she pressed herself against Teddy’s chest.

My breath caught in my lungs. This was where we had gone off script, where Teddy had changed his line and made me question whether he’d been acting or we’d slipped into reality.

Teddy leaned in close to Chloe, their lips almost touching. “You and me. Here. Now.”

Suddenly needing air, I stood as quietly as I could and fled for the exit.

Gasping, I burst out of the back door and braced my hands against the side of the house. The bricks were rough under my fingers, but I pressed harder, trying to calm my racing heart. The porch was quiet, withered flowers in faded planters hanging overhead and swaying gently in the breeze. Bugs buzzed in the trees, an ever-present hum. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to let tears leak out.

I’d thought maybe he’d been speaking to me when he told me he’d wanted me right then, right there. That maybe he’d been using his character as a cover for what he really wanted to say to me. But he hadn’t—he’d just been riffing, improvising. It was ridiculous, how much it hurt to hear him use the same words with Chloe.

Had I really thought he’d been using his character to confess real feelings to me? That didn’t happen in real life. Least of all from someone like Teddy. But I had believed it. The moment had felt special, like something just for me. A sign that maybe he was feeling the same energy growing between us. That I wasn’t the only one going crazy trying to tamp down feelings that were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

I guess I had my answer now. No, it hadn’t been special, and he wasn’t, and it was just me. The realization made me so very sad. And not just sad, but also stupid.

I knew his type—I’d met them a thousand times. The careless player who didn’t mind playing with a person’s feelings if it meant they could have a bit of fun; the arrogant actor who cares more about stoking his own ego than making a genuine connection. I knew better. I shouldn’t want him. I didn’t want to want him.

But I did.

I don’t know how long I had been standing there—trying and failing to stop the cracking sensation ripping through my chest—when the back door flew open. I jumped, bringing my hands to my eyes and trying to wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape. I assumed it was Natasha, coming to scold me for ruining the scene or distracting her actors or irritating her purely with my presence before fleeing the set.

“I’m sorry.” I wiped my eye with the heel of my hand and pulled it away. “I didn’t mean—”

But it was Teddy standing a few feet away. Not Natasha, not even Chloe. Teddy. He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at me as the screen door clattered shut behind him.

I groaned, debating running away for a moment before ultimately deciding against it. He’d already seen what a mess I was; there was no hiding it now.

“What happened?” Teddy looked truly flabbergasted, taking in my red eyes and my tear-stained cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I wiped at my cheeks with the sleeve of my shirt. “Just, you know, allergies.”

“Unless you have the most violent allergies known to man, I don’t think so.” He took a step toward me, his forehead creasing with worry. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Um. . .” My brain spun, trying to come up with an excuse for my current state, but it came up short. “I thought. . . that line you improvised. . .”

“What line?”

I choked out a laugh. He didn’t even know what I was talking about. “Never mind.” I tried to push past him, debating quitting the movie right then and there. A threat on my life wasn’t good enough to scare me off the film, but the thought of facing this humiliation every day for the rest of filming might be.

Teddy grabbed me by the shoulders, halting me in my tracks. “What line are you talking about?” His eyes bore into mine, startlingly blue in the afternoon light.

“It doesn’t matter.” I shrugged out of his grip. “Let me go, this is embarrassing enough.”

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