Page 69 of Romance Is Dead

My erratic heart rate sure made me feel like I was in danger, but I nodded anyway.

Getting down to business, the three of us discussed what the scene would entail. Our characters would make out against the counter, and once we got that shot, Teddy and I would disrobe and move to the kitchen table. The part on the table would be brief—the script only calls for a few moments before the cameras cut to Chloe being stalked, and eventually killed, by the witch.

Hopefully we’d be able to get the shot before I got a stress fracture from being banged against the tabletop.

“Above all,” Gabby said, “we want this to be an environment of consent.”

“Definitely.” Teddy glanced at me with determination in his eyes. “I want her to be comfortable at all times.”

I’d consent to you having your way with me against this counter right now.

The thought popped into my head out of nowhere, and I could feel my cheeks redden. We hadn’t even started filming, and my mind was already running itself into the gutter. How would I control myself once he was actually on top of me? I mentally shook myself, chasing away the image before it could materialize.

Gabby, meanwhile, was nodding at Teddy in approval. “We can play around and experiment with different shots and angles if we want, but if one of you wants to go off script, you must ask and get consent first from your partner.” She looked first at Teddy and then at me, her expression knowing, as though she could tell I was already having impure thoughts. “Understand?”

Teddy and I both assured her we did.

“Alright, then.” Gabby nodded at Natasha. “I think we’re ready!”

We slipped into our costumes for the scene, making sure not to stretch out or tear the modesty garments, and took our places at the counter. As the cameras started rolling, I hiked myself up on the Formica and starting rummaging through the cabinets—my character hunting for cream of tartar, naturally a key ingredient in a protection charm.

“It’s not here,” I said with an exaggerated pout as I spun around to sit on the countertop. “What do we do now?”

Teddy bit his lip, rubbing his hands as he looked me up and down. “I have an idea.”

It was all that I could do not to laugh. This dialogue. I managed not to break and instead cocked my head to the side. “Oh?”

Teddy nodded, licking his lips before moving in for the kiss. For a moment, my stomach hitched. Our mouths met, featherlight, and it was so similar to how our kiss on the back porch began before we quickly lost ourselves. But then a moment passed, and then another, and our stage kiss was nothing like our frantic make-out session. It was forced, completely void of passion. I nearly sighed from relief.

We got the shot on the first take, and Natasha beamed as she called cut. As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, Teddy held out his fist for a fist bump. He winked as our knuckles collided.

“Wonderful!” Gabby said as she ushered herself onto the set. “You two clearly have chemistry.”

Did we? The kiss we’d just filmed utterly lacked in chemistry as far as I could tell. And maybe that was for the best—clearly whatever had happened between us on the back porch had been nothing but temporary insanity. I mentally patted myself on the back as the crew adjusted the cameras and lighting for the next part of the scene. I’d been all worked up over nothing.

When the set was ready, Teddy and I were given the signal to disrobe. I averted my gaze, focusing on removing my own clothes in the least awkward way possible. I wasn’t sure which was going to be more embarrassing: stepping out of my pants to reveal my padded thong or pulling off my shirt to reveal my stickered boobs. Deciding not to overthink it, I yanked them both off quickly, before reaching up to make sure I hadn’t knocked my wig out of place.

Sensing eyes on me, I finally let myself look in Teddy’s direction. He was staring, his eyes glazed and mouth slightly ajar, and not at my face. I wanted to say something, tease him about letting his eyes wander. But I couldn’t make myself open my mouth—I liked feeling his eyes on me, like he was devouring me with his gaze. Like he was hungry.

“Ready?” Gabby laid a hand on my shoulder and I jumped. Teddy’s eyes snapped away from my body and he turned away, both of our cheeks flushing.

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Sure am!”

“Fantastic. Let’s head back into the kitchen.”

Trying to forget the way Teddy had been looking at me, I forced myself into work mode as we approached the table. Gabby walked us through the choreography, and Teddy and I gave feedback as necessary. Luckily, since it was such a short scene, it was fairly straightforward. After our make-out sesh on the counter, the camera would cut to us pounding away on the table for a few moments before it cut away again. Therefore, the only thing we needed to do was pound away.

“The movements are simple, but we also want to make sure everyone is as comfortable as possible,” Gabby said. “That’s why we have. . .”—she reached into a duffle bag that lay out of view of the cameras—“this little guy.”

She removed her hand from the bag, clutching a half-inflated volleyball. Teddy and I started at it blankly, not comprehending.

Teddy leaned in close to my ear. “Is there a volleyball subplot I forgot about?”

I snickered, but managed to turn it into a cough.

“Look!” Gabby positioned herself near the edge of the table, placing the ball between herself and the wooden edge. “All of the movement, none of the contact.” She pushed her hips against the ball, which had enough give to let her thrust without hitting the hard surface.

“Talk about a subplot,” Teddy whispered.

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