Page 7 of Beach Reads
Oh my god.
Will he even be able to lift me?
“You okay?” The makeup artist’s eyes have sharpened on me. Her lips purse as she smears something under my cheekbones. “You look kinda green.”
“I’m…”
I’m what? I’m not fine. I’m about to experience Jesse Hendry’s naked bare chest against my skin, and then I’m going to be humiliated on camera.
What if he drops me? In the water? On thesand?
“You’ll be totally fine.” Imogen’s giving me her full attention now, her voice impatient. “The fishing net is all for show. They’ll pin it to you in a way that it doesn’t really trap your legs. And you won’t even be that deep—”
“I can swim.” That’s not the problem. I glance around the white canvas make-up tent, the temporary structure that we erect and take down every day, chased by the tides. It’s basically just a patch of shade, with a few fold out chairs and a table strewn with makeup supplies. “It’s just…”
Can I trust her? Should I even say this?
Imogen’s mouth twists as she dabs something on my eyelids. She’s impatient, yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be a jerk. Everyone’s impatient on set.
“I have cellulite,” I whisper, my words almost swallowed up by the breeze. Far down the beach, the hushing waves are louder.
Imogen’s forehead clears. Her brown eyes soften, and I exhale.
“Honey, everyone has cellulite. Come back to me once you’re in costume,” she murmurs, keeping my secret between us. God, women are the best. “I can do your body too if you like.”
“Yes, please.” I’m all for embracing my flaws, but there are limits on my bravery today. Baby steps. “And…”
She waits this time, brushing a fine layer of waterproof mascara on my lashes. “Hm?”
I clear my throat. “Is Jesse definitely strong enough to lift me?”
Imogen’s eyes crease at the corners, and she tosses her head back and laughs. Bright, loud peals that draw everyone’s eyes. Is this supposed to be reassuring?
“Oh, jeez.” Imogen sniffs as she pulls herself back together. She shakes her head, brushing my other set of eyelashes. “Haven’t you seen him in the gym, Darla? You’ll befine. That man could carry you aloft on one palm like a serving tray.”
Um. Yay?
Jesse
Another day, another rescue. Another sprint into the sea. I sit on top of the creaking steps that lead to my trailer, the metal already warm from the sun, and frown out at the frothing ocean.
I’m in the redRiptideswim shorts already, with one of my younger brother’s college hoodies thrown on top. Thick powder clings to my cheeks, and a stylist has tousled gel through my hair.
I barely noticed it happening. My head’s thick and fuzzy from a long night of staring at the ceiling, playing back my agent’s wheezy, dismissive laugh on a loop in my head.
You’d be a fool, giving up this sure thing.
Would anyone else even cast me?
What does Darla think of me, still working this same role after so many years? Does she think I’m a loser?
“Hey, Jesse.” Haley, the girl who plays my little sister in the show, props her hip against my trailer, twirling a lock of her red hair. “You look so grumpy. Need cheering up?”
I lift my chin in greeting, but I don’t call her over. Haley is pretty enough, but I’m not interested in what she’s putting out there. I know that our roles are fictional and all, but I still call herSismost of the day. It’s weird.
Besides, there’s only one woman who catches my attention these days, and she’snotred-haired and skinny. She’s all thick curves and a wide smile; a loud laugh and twinkling hazel eyes.
A goddess.
