Red Carpet Kiss

by Melissa Brown

  He was recently single. He’d broken up with Amanda Bauer—again—a girl who lived in Eleanor’s dorm, just two weeks prior. Aside from her obvious good looks, long blonde hair, beaming green eyes, and alabaster skin, Amanda was the most boring human being Elle had met in her nineteen years. She was one of those girls who waited to hear your preferences before answering a question.

  For example, Elle had joined Troy and Amanda for a quick lunch between classes.

  “So, Amanda, what’s your favorite show?” Elle was always interested in television series.

  The blonde took a deep breath, her eyes pained. She looked physically stressed and Elle couldn’t understand what could be so perplexing about such a question. All she wanted to do was know this girl a little bit better, to understand what Troy found so appealing.

  “Um, I don’t really watch that much television. How about you?” Her eyes perked up, looking relieved to have placed the “pressure” on Elle’s shoulders.

  “Dawson’s Creek. I’m addicted.” Elle scooped a large bite of salad into her mouth.

  Amanda’s face brightened. “Yes! Dawson! He’s so hot.”

  “Actually, I prefer Pacey.”

  “Oh, well, yeah. He’s totally hot, too.”

  Interesting, Elle had thought. Conversations like this one had taken place frequently during Troy’s agonizing four months linked to Amanda. Elle felt he deserved better—someone with more than just a pretty face and flawless complexion. He needed someone who challenged him, someone who made him think. Someone who corrected him when he was putting a tent together improperly . . .

  A minute passed after Staci’s remark and finally Troy returned to the tent. Elle busied herself by organizing the drinks in the cooler. With each can she moved, she knew his eyes were still on her, daring her to look in his direction. But she couldn’t. If she did look his way, he’d know the truth. He’d know how she felt about him—he’d know she’d fantasized about the two of them together, that she wanted to know how his lips felt against hers.

  Troy cleared his throat. “Hey, Rigby, will you give me a hand?”

  Elle froze, dropped a can of cola into the cooler, shut the top, and walked to Troy, coaching herself mentally.

  Be strong. Show no fear.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She nudged him in the ribs, and his lips perked up into a half smile. “My poor tent, I’m surprised it’s not in shambles by now.”

  Elle shook her head as she picked up pieces of the tent, trying to mask the smile creeping up on her face. She loved giving Troy a hard time but had trouble developing a poker face when around him. He always saw right through any facade she attempted to create.

  Troy shook his head slowly. His top teeth dug into his bottom lip. Elle loved when he did that. On Troy, sarcasm was sexy.

  “Such a smart ass.” He grabbed the tent back from her. “Forget I asked.”

  From anyone else, this attitude would have been a major turnoff, but with Troy it was an odd form of foreplay. They fed off of one another’s snark. No, this wasn’t a turnoff; it was an invitation.

  Together, they built the tent successfully while continuously ribbing one another. When it was complete, however, he wrapped an arm around her, his hand hanging down from her shoulder.

  “We did good.”

  Elle turned to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I suppose we did.”

  “We’re a good team, Rigby.”

  This time, when Troy looked at her, his snark was long gone. He swallowed hard while his eyes peered into hers. Part of her wanted to break the eye contact, but she couldn’t—it was too powerful. Her hair was up in a ponytail, but during construction of the tent, a few large strands had fallen. They sat in front of her eyes. Troy turned his body, removing his arm from her shoulder, and pushed her hair from her eyes. He pressed the strands behind her ear.

  “There,” he said, his words soft. “That’s better.”

  The sun had set and the small group of campers gathered around the fire. Their bellies were full with hot dogs and marshmallows cooked by the fire. Beer was passed around and dirty jokes were spewing from the guys’ mouths.

  Elle and Troy sat together, nestled under a blanket. Troy cracked jokes with the guys, but she noticed how attentive he was. During dinner, he served her first before eating. When she cracked up at the jokes, he fixed the blanket to make sure she was covered and comfortable. Yes, they were little things. But to Elle, the little things were enormous. Troy had always been a thoughtful friend, but this felt like more, like something was building between them.

  “Hey,” he whispered into her ear. “Wanna go for a walk?”

  “Sure.”

  Troy grabbed two flashlights, and they walked down the path. The campground they were staying in was patrolled and monitored at night, so Elle felt safe walking around the grounds with him.

  “I used to go camping all the time as a kid. Did I tell you that?”

  “No,” Elle replied. She liked that Troy was revealing more of himself to her. She wanted to know everything about him.

  “My dad was an Eagle Scout and thought it was important, I guess. I learned all those knots, how to make a fire—”

  “Obviously, he skipped tent-building.”

  Troy shook his head. “Can’t let one by, huh?”

  “Not with you.”

  Troy stopped and he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. “Why is that?”

  Elle was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “You and me. We’re always, I don’t know, giving each other crap. Why is that?”

  Elle was more than confused—she was stunned. She thought that was a positive thing in their relationship. He kept her on her toes and she had assumed she did the same for him. Was she wrong?

  “That’s just how we are, I guess.” She shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

  “I’m not like that with anyone else. Not even my little sister.”

  Thank God, Elle thought. The last person she wanted to be compared to was Troy’s sister. But she didn’t like how this conversation was going. During their short stay on the campgrounds, she had felt her denial start to slip away—if Troy was letting her down easy, she would be crushed.

  “You didn’t like Amanda, did you?” he asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Who you date is your business, not mine.”

  Troy stopped. He kicked the rocks beneath his feet. Even beneath the dark night sky, Elle could see the frustration in his knitted brow. “I guess.”

  They walked together, following the gravel path away from the campground and into a wooded area. The only sound was the crackling of the gravel beneath their feet. Elle wanted to push him, to discover what on earth he was trying to say, and to understand why he was frustrated.

  Frustration and silence were not a healthy combination. Elle’s chest ached as she pondered her next move. She wanted terribly to drag the stagnant conversation back to a place she understood. Normally, she’d give him a hard time to reel him back into their banter, but apparently Troy was conflicted about the state of their relationship. Banter was not the answer.

  The sound of crackling twigs could be heard behind the bushes near the gravel path. Troy froze and held his hand out to block Elle from walking forward. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes.” It came out in a choked whisper. She was so wrapped up in her emotions, she’d forgotten they were two teenagers walking alone at night. Normally, Elle would have voiced concern over leaving the safety of the supervised grounds, but the reticence between them stifled the cool air and she didn’t want to increase their already strained conversation.

  Troy grasped her forearm and held a finger up to his lips. She nodded, indicating she wouldn’t make a sound. She stood like stone, looking from side to side, hoping a small animal, like a rabbit or chipmunk, would reveal itself and remove the fear surrounding them in the darkness.

  Troy moved toward the bush, s
hining his flashlight and lifting the branches to inspect what could possibly be hiding behind the layers of evergreen. A muffled growl came from the ground beneath the bush and Troy stepped back.

  “We should go. C’mon,” he said, placing his hand on the small of Elle’s back and guiding her to walk quickly down the path, back to the safety of the campground.

  “What was that?” Her lungs were heaving.

  “Just keep moving.” Troy looked behind them several times, his arm wrapped completely around her waist as they increased their pace. The familiar glow of campfires welcomed them and Elle felt at ease. They would be fine. Troy, however, didn’t look so relieved.

  “Troy?” Elle asked, turning to place a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “I would never let anything hurt you. You know that, right?” His nostrils flared, and his chocolate-brown eyes gleamed in the moonlight. Protective Troy made something stir in Elle. She pressed her hands behind his neck and pulled him to her.

  He crushed her lips with his, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her toward his firm chest. Elle could feel his heart pounding. She opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He moaned into her mouth as his tongue met hers. They moved together in unison—it was everything Elle had thought it could be. He pulled the elastic from her ponytail, allowing her hair to tumble past her shoulders. He ran his fingers from the roots to the tips before dragging his fingernails down her back. His hands then roamed underneath her cotton shirt and she arched in response to the slight sting of his fingernails grazing her skin. His mouth moved to her neck as his hands continued to climb up her back. She looked up at the starry sky, wondering where this was headed and what it all meant. Even at times like these, it was impossible for her to turn off her brain, to truly lose herself in someone else. She craved control. But with Troy, she could never quite get it. The push, the pull was always in control of both of them.

  “Should we . . . head back?” It wasn’t what she wanted. But the need to control was a strong one—and a part of her personality difficult to suppress.

  “Is that what you want?” Troy murmured between kisses. Her skin tingled with each kiss.

  “I don’t know.”

  Troy pulled back, placing both hands on her waist. “That’s not true. You know. Tell me what you want.”

  Elle hesitated before telling the truth. Before risking everything. “You. I want you.”

  He shook his head with a smile. “You have me.”

  “Do I?” Elle narrowed her eyes, conveying her doubt with a simple glance. She didn’t just want one night with Troy. She wanted so much more than that. At least, she thought she did.

  Troy nodded; his expression turned serious. He ran his fingers through her hair before running the side of his hand down her cheek. “If you only knew, Rigby.”

  Relief flooded Elle and she pressed her lips to his once again, pulling him close to her, making the decision to let go of her need to control. Her hand dipped down to grip him beneath his jeans.

  She murmured into his neck. “Should we go to my tent?”

  Troy licked his lips before pursing them together. “Are you ready for that? I mean, I know you haven’t—”

  Troy was fully aware of Elle’s virginity, but she didn’t have any intention of discussing it. Regardless of what happened after that night, she knew right then, right there, she wanted Troy to be her first.

  “Shh.” She placed a finger on his lips. “I’m ready.”

  They walked hand in hand back to the tent. The others had already gone to sleep and Elle realized just how long they’d been gone on their walk. Troy unzipped the flap of the tent, revealing an empty space just for them. He unzipped the rest of the flap and gestured for her to enter. The tent was warm and her sleeping bag was open and ready. She sat down on the cool fabric, removing her shirt and unsnapping her jeans. Troy zipped the flap of the tent and knelt down next to her on the sleeping bag.

  “Rigby,” he whispered. “Are you sure?”

  Elle nodded, pulling his shirt from his body. She ran her fingertips down his chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin on her fingertips.

  “I’m sure.”

  The next morning, she bristled at his touch. When he attempted to snuggle with her beneath the sleeping bag, she pulled away, explaining she needed to use the bathroom. She avoided his eyes, knowing he’d see right through her lies.

  When they’d finished making love just hours before, Troy had stroked her back gently before he dozed off to sleep. And although she enjoyed herself immensely, and knew he cared for her and they were meant to be together, Elle cried herself to sleep, silent tears streaming down her face.

  The truth was, she was terrified.

  She wasn’t ready.

  And she was a self-saboteur. The epitome of a self-saboteur.

  Troy was everything she’d wanted, but she was petrified of actually having him—of actually being happy. Happiness required vulnerability—something Elle was terribly uncomfortable with, because vulnerability meant giving up control and that was something Elle just couldn’t do no matter what her heart wanted. She sobbed in the shower stall of the campground ladies’ room. When Staci attempted to comfort her, she asked her to leave.

  When she returned to the campsite, Troy stood next to the deconstructed tent. Again, she avoided his eyes, not sure of what to say. She knew it was over before it even started. And she knew it was her fault.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning in close. “What’s going on?”

  Elle faked a smile. “Nothing, I’m fine. How are you? Did you sleep okay?”

  “Rigby, c’mon. Did I . . . did I hurt you or something?” He ran one hand down her arm. She flinched at his touch and his eyes widened in disbelief.

  “No, I . . .” She glanced around the campsite, worried their friends were watching the awkward interaction. “I just need to get back. I have a lot of studying to do.”

  “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

  “No.” She shook her head, retrieving the tent from his arms. “You stay, hang out with the guys. I’ll ask Staci.”

  Troy rubbed his hand against his forehead. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I mean, last night—”

  “It was nothing. We’re fine, just like always.” She shrugged.

  She hated herself for being so dismissive. Troy’s pained expression made her heart ache, but she was on autopilot, running away in a complete panic. Running away from the only guy she’d ever really wanted.

  What in the hell is the matter with me?

  Troy didn’t speak to her for two weeks. She’d almost given up on their friendship completely when she found out he’d gone back to dating Amanda. He’d done that to spite her; she was fully aware of that. Troy never shied away from making a point.

  But in the strangest of ways, his dating the woman who’d grated so terribly on Elle’s nerves became their truce. He dated Amanda for another year, and slowly Elle eased her way back into a friendship with the man she secretly desired, but knew she couldn’t quite handle. She knew if she fell for Troy, he could break her heart. She couldn’t control their relationship. She couldn’t avoid heartbreak or disappointment.

  She told herself that Troy was better off with someone like Amanda. Someone who hung on his every word, who never said anything contrary to his beliefs or opinions. Someone the opposite of her. Someone who wasn’t so afraid of falling in love.

  And after a while, she believed the lie that when it came to Troy Saladino, she was friend material and nothing more. The self-saboteur inside her had won.

  Elle awoke to the soft pads of Luke’s fingertips making circles on her skin. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning, and Luke had spent the night, just as he had several nights before over the past few weeks. The difference about this morning was he was needed in a makeup chair by 7:00 a.m. Elle glanced at the clock, relieved they had plenty of time to arrive at the studio.

  It was Luke’s first episode as David McKenzie.
Episode seven. Elle would, officially, be overseeing his acting. She hoped he’d nail his scenes—the last thing she wanted to do was correct him in front of the cast. She had no desire to emasculate him like that in front of his peers. But this character and the coming episodes were pivotal—absolutely crucial to the success of the show.

  “Morning.” His voice was raspy. “Time for breakfast?”

  “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

  “I’m easy, you know that. Whatever my lady wants is fine.” He planted soft kisses on her shoulder and goose bumps rose to meet his lips.

  “I’m fine with coffee . . . and you have to be on set in just over an hour. Rain check?” Elle rolled over to face him. He’d spent the night often enough that she no longer worried about bed head or morning breath. Luke didn’t seem to mind either anyway . . . at least not on her.

  “I have an idea. How about dinner . . . tonight? We can celebrate my first day on set.” His grin was infectious and Elle found herself smiling right back at the handsome actor in her bed.

  “Deal. Ooh, I’ll ask Gina for the name of that place.”

  Luke hopped out of bed; his tan pecs flexed as he threw his shirt back on. “What place?”

  “A restaurant that serves Chicago-style pizza.”

  Luke shrugged. “Never had it.”

  “Seriously?” Elle threw the back of her hand over her forehead, dramatically sighing for Luke’s benefit. “Oh, the horror!”

  “Don’t quit your day job. You’re a terrible actress.”

  Elle smirked, knowing he was right. “You have to try this pizza, Luke, I’m serious. It’s . . . well, for me it’s home.”

  He leaned down, digging his hands into the mattress, his face only inches from hers. “Well, then I can’t wait to try it.”

  He placed a delicate kiss on her forehead before retreating to the guest bathroom to shower and prepare for the day. Elle appreciated that he gave her the space she required in the morning. Her bathroom, her closet—he knew it was off-limits to him between the hours of six and eight a.m. He was such an easygoing guy—things like that just didn’t bother Luke. And Elle loved that about him.