But Jasmine could.
At that moment, Ryan got to his feet. ‘Shut up!” he yelled. “Just shut up!”
I hurried over. With every step, I could feel Jasmine closing around me like a protective wall. Shields up!
“What’s the matter?” a small, balding guy at the table wanted to know.
“Yeah,” I asked with a grin. “What’s the matter?”
Everyone looked round. Jaws dropped. As Jasmine, I basked in the attention.
When I’d introduced myself as Ryan’s girlfriend and bought one of the guys a beer to replace the one Ryan had spilled, I got to know them. It was easy enough, nothing I hadn’t done a million times before. All you have to do is forget everyone else in the room and focus entirely on the guy’s face. It doesn’t matter what he tells you—you’re enraptured by it. He’s the most interesting, funniest guy in the world and you’re lucky to be in his presence. I could feel my eyes going big and my breathing quicken as I sat there, listening to their stories of being cops.
It was so easy to slip back into it. And I knew that was dangerous. But it was working so well...there was no harm in being Jasmine for a few hours, right?
After a while, I glanced at Ryan and saw that he was staring at me. He almost looked annoyed. Why would he be annoyed? I was getting on great with his friends. They loved me!
After a few beers and a few hours, he abruptly stood up. “We’re out of here,” he said, and he said it in that cop voice that wouldn’t be disobeyed. I saw the other guys—the ones I’d been talking to—glance at each other guiltily. I looked up at Ryan blankly. What?!
Outside, it was raining and we had to walk to find a cab. Except, Ryan was walking much faster than me. I had to hurry to keep up and that’s a struggle in heels. “Wait!” I called after him. “Ryan, hold up!”
He suddenly stopped and spun around. “What the hell were you doing in there?!”
Heavy raindrops were splatting on my shoulders and scalp, making me shiver. I blinked at him. “What? Nothing! Talking to your friends!”
“Talking to them?! You were flirting with them!”
I think he expected me to deny it. But I just shrugged, mystified. “So?”
He looked incredulous. He ignored the rain completely, even as it turned into a proper, hissing summer shower. “So?! Jasmine, you don’t—you don’t flirt with a guy’s friends! You sat right between them!”
I hadn’t really thought about it—I’d just done it on autopilot. I mean, of course you sit between the men, so that they turn inward to face you. It’s, like, female flirting 101. “Well...yeah, but—”
“Charlie and Julio were both staring down your dress all night!”
I felt myself redden. Me. Not Jasmine; Emma.
He stared at me. “Doesn’t that bother you?!”
I blustered, getting defensive. Rain was trickling down my face and had to shake it away. “It obviously bothers you!”
“Hell yeah, it bothers me! I don’t want you flirting with my friends!”
“What are you, jealous?” I said it sarcastically.
He grabbed my upper arms. “Yes!”
And suddenly, my whole perspective shifted. He actually was jealous. Because he wanted me. He wanted me all to himself.
No one had ever felt that way about me before. As Jasmine, I’d flirted with a different guy every night and we’d never got anywhere near the stage where those sorts of feelings would develop. Hell, I’d been sort of proud of not belonging to anybody. I used to declare that I was mine, and no one else’s. I’d shaken my head in dismay at guys I’d seen getting possessive. I’d always thought of it as a bad thing.
But being his...that didn’t sound bad at all. As he held me there in the rain, those blue eyes gleaming with jealous rage, it sounded sort of...wonderful.
I pushed forward and kissed him hard on the lips, which was the last thing he expected. “What the hell?!” he said.
I put my wet forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just...I just wanted your friends to like me.”
I saw his anger slip away. “Oh, baby,” he whispered. He took my head between those huge hands, the heat of him warming my soaking, chilled cheeks. “You don’t have to do that to get people to like you. People like you just as you are.”
And then he kissed me, slow and deep, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. The sort of kiss that would have had people stopping to stare even if we hadn’t been doing it in the pouring rain.
Chapter 50
Jasmine
Ryan delicately suggested going back to his place—it was nearer than mine and we’d be going to work together the next morning anyway. But my head was too full of my brother and what I was going to do about kissing Tyler, the next day. I needed advice.
I called Karen and asked if I could come over. Then I got a cab over to the Upper West Side, wincing at the cost. I wouldn’t be paid by the network until the pilot was wrapped and money was seriously tight.
I’d lived in Karen’s apartment for a while before Connor moved in, right after she’d rescued me from the escort debacle. So I should have remembered how gorgeous it was, even though I hadn’t been there for a while.
But my jaw still dropped when she opened the door. I’d forgotten the way the marble floor shone, and the huge living room. Connor had apparently said, when he moved in, that his whole apartment would have fitted into that one room, and he’d probably been right.
There’d been some changes, of course. Connor’s electric guitar now hung on the wall and there was a small jungle of cables and amps in one corner where they jammed together. I wondered how the other residents felt about a rock/classical duo rehearsing next door. Then again, in a building this expensive, the walls were probably thick enough that no one would hear them.
Karen hugged me tightly, all five foot four of her. I was still in my heels and she was in bare feet, so this put her head in my cleavage. “It’s so good to see you!” she said. “I’ve missed you!”
I frowned at that. I’d seen her plenty of—
No. No, I hadn’t.
Now I thought about it, I had been spending a lot of time filming, and with Ryan. My stomach lurched. I hadn’t seen much of my best friend at all.
Was it possible that I’d been shying away from her, as Jasmine cracked and threatened to disintegrate? I’d seen Clarissa and Nat, but Karen had always been closest to me and most able to tell when I’m lying. For someone who’s so socially awkward, she’s eerily perceptive. Had I known that she’d guess something was wrong, and isolated myself from her?
“Tell me what’s going on,” said Karen, leading me to one of the big couches in the living room and sitting me down.
God, it was like being in a commercial. I could see half of New York through the huge windows, all lit up and beautiful, even in the rain. “How do you two ever get any work done, with that view?” I asked, playing for time.
Karen just looked at me and I squirmed under her gaze. She was in a pair of too-big cargo pants, bare feet, and a tank top. And no glasses. It still took some getting used to, seeing her without them.
Getting contacts was another way she’d grown up. She’d turned into the woman she always should have been, if her father hadn’t held her back. Connor had been good for her. But I couldn’t help missing the old Karen, shy and virginal—literally—because...well, because she’d needed me. And this new Karen didn’t. And now I needed her.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Karen said gently. “Is it Ryan?”
I took a deep breath. “I have to do a kiss tomorrow. In the show.”
She studied me. “And... oh. It’s not with Ryan?”
I nodded.
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“He’s jealous?”
“Yup.”
She looked thoughtful. “Hmm.” Then she noticed me shiver. “I just realized you’re freezing. Sorry. Wait here.” And she marched off in the direction of the kitchen.
Wh
ich was fine, because I needed to use the bathroom anyway. I hurried down the hall. Karen’s bedroom door was ajar, but I ignored it and went for the bathroom door, which was opposite.
Just as I put my hand on the door handle, it opened from the other side, and I was staring at a wall of lean, muscled chest. I lifted my eyes. Connor.
Not quite as big as Ryan, but still big. And topless. And wearing a pair of tight black jeans. In fact, that was all he was wearing. He was barefoot.
Why were they both barefoot?
“Oh!” I said. “Sorry!” And I backed up to let him out of the bathroom. My ass hit the door of Karen’s bedroom and pushed it, and I backed up into it. Connor sort of leapt forward, an awkward, uncomfortable expression on his face. As if he didn’t want me to—
What wasn’t I meant to see, in the bedroom?
I couldn’t help it. It’s human nature. My head turned almost of its own accord. I saw the rumpled bed, pillows tossed on the floor, and comforter pulled back. My hands went to my mouth. I knew now why they were both barefoot. “Shit!” I said. “Did I interrupt sex?”
And then I saw the wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the bedposts.
My head whipped around to Connor. He was rubbing his face with one hand. “Er…” he said, his Irish accent turning even that into a melody.
We were both turning beetroot. We edged past each other until he was in the bedroom and I was back in the hallway. We exchanged embarrassed looks. And then I sort of nodded at him to indicate we’ll just not talk about it and he nodded back as if to say thank God for that. And then everything was normal. Ish.
“Are you okay?” he asked. It was the first time we’d talked in private since the gym.
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I just freaked out about...something. I’m fine.”
He looked uneasy. “I didn’t tell Karen.”
“Thank you.”
“But she knows something’s wrong.”
I nodded. That’s why she said to come over when I called, even though they were in the middle of…. “I’m talking to her,” I said. Which wasn’t exactly a lie. I mean, I wasn’t talking to her about Emma or my past, but we were talking.
He looked at me seriously. “You take care, Jasmine. Okay? Karen’s always here for you. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need.”
I felt a big, deep swell of gratitude inside me. God, I had the best friends in the world. If only they were Emma’s, and not Jasmine’s. I nodded. “Thank you.”
When I hurried back to the living room, Karen was waiting for me with a mug of hot chocolate and a towel. “Where were you?” she asked.
“Saying hi to Connor.”
She looked dismayed. “Oh. Was he…?”
“Decent, yes.” She reddened. “Karen, you didn’t have to interrupt...things, just for me.” The idea of Karen doing BDSM had blown me away. It wasn’t so long ago that I was coaching her in sex, getting her ready for her first time. God, first Clarissa and Neil, now Karen and Connor. And we all suspected that Darrell had a dungeon somewhere in the mansion because, you know, billionaire. Was I the only one not having kinky sex?
She gave me a reproachful look. “You need my help. Kissing...what’s his name?”
“Tyler.”
“Is he hot?”
“Karen, what sort of question is that?”
“A pertinent one. Is he?”
I blustered for a moment. “Yes,” I said at last. “But I don’t want him. I want Ryan.”
“So you can do the kiss without getting all...you know...moist.”
“Karen!” It was meant to be me who was the shocking one, me who came out with the inappropriate stuff. I was even blushing. How had things gotten so turned around?
“Can you?”
“Yes!” I said. “It’s Ryan who’s the problem. He’s not used to acting...or actors. I mean we all flirt with each other. That’s considered normal. Right?”
Karen sighed. “Who have you been flirting with?”
“His friends,” I said in a small voice.
Karen rolled her eyes.
“It’s normal! You know how actors are at Fenbrook! We all flirt with each other—it’s fun! Hell, we’re always sleeping with each other!”
“Probably not a good idea to say that to Ryan.”
I sighed. “Okay. Point taken. I need to remember he’s a civilian. I learned that already tonight. But what about the kiss? It’s my job! I can’t just not do it!” I thumped the leather couch with my fist. It was so luxuriously soft that it absorbed the blow with nothing more than a little oof of padding, which was frustrating. “This has never been a problem before! I’ve done loads of screen kisses and stage kisses and—”
“But never when you had a boyfriend.”
“I’ve been dating when I—”
“But not a boyfriend.” Karen put her hand on my back. “Jasmine, it’s different, now. You really like this guy—don’t you?”
I looked at my feet. “I’m in love with him.”
Karen got up.
“Where are you going?!” I asked.
“To get wine.” She returned with a bottle of white and two glasses.
“We’re going through a bottle between us?” I asked. “I remember the first time I took you to Flicker. You didn’t even drink, back then.”
“We’ll talk all night. We need to catch up. You can sleep here.”
I looked toward the bedroom and the waiting bondage gear. “What about Connor?”
“Connor can wait.”
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I threw my arms around her and pulled her close. “You’re the best friend ever!”
Chapter 51
Jasmine
When I woke up the next morning, I had a strategy, a headache, and a guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach. The strategy I’d worked out with Karen and I felt good both about figuring it out and about having done it with Karen. The headache was from the wine we’d got through while planning out the strategy. And the guilty feeling? That was because I still hadn’t been straight with her. I’d accepted her help, yes...about this one problem. But I hadn’t opened up and shared what was really going on underneath, about Emma and Chicago and my brother...and my dad.
I had coffee with Karen and Connor and then headed to the police station where we were filming the series. When I got there, everyone was chattering excitedly about it being the last day of filming, and planning how drunk they were going to get at the wrap party. I’d been so preoccupied with the kiss that it hadn’t really sunk in that we’d nearly finished the pilot. If we could just make it through today….
The kiss would be the final scene we shot that day and also the final shot of the finished pilot when audiences saw it. My character caught up in a love triangle would be the cliffhanger that—hopefully—would have test audiences screaming for a full season.
Ryan met me as soon as I got there and we kissed and then made small talk and completely avoided talking about me kissing Tyler, which went completely against the strategy I’d worked out with Karen. That strategy was basically: talk to him. But I couldn’t. I tried several times that day as we waited around between shots (there’s a lot of waiting around, on set). But whenever I went near the subject, he just shook his head and looked away.
I finally realized that he wasn’t refusing me to be awkward. He didn’t want to talk about it because talking about it made him mad, and he didn’t want to lose his temper in front of me. I remembered what he’d said in his apartment about the anger. I didn’t want him to lose it, either.
But we had to talk. I was just about to try again when Tyler appeared. Immediately, it was as if a rival dog had just walked into Ryan’s yard. His shoulders set. He glowered. I swore the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Tyler ignored him completely. “We’re about ready to go, downstairs,” he told me.
“Hey!” I said chirpily. “You two haven’t really met yet, have you? Tyler: Ryan. Ryan: Tyler.”
They bot
h just eyed each other. They shook hands, but in the most hostile way possible, making contact for the briefest second and then pulling their hands away as if bitten. They hated each other. Oh great.
“I’ll, uh....be with you in a minute,” I told Tyler.
With one last look at Ryan, he left.
As soon as we were alone, I said, “Look—its work. That’s all it is.”
Ryan took a deep breath. “I know,” he said. “I get it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
The pang I felt in my chest was bittersweet. In a sense, it was kind of sweet that he’d be this annoyed by me doing the kiss. But sweet didn’t make it any less painful for him, or awkward for me.
We trooped downstairs. Ryan wasn’t in the scene, but I didn’t feel I could ask him not to come. That would just make him suspicious when there was nothing at all going on. Better that he saw it. Then he’d see that it was just acting. Right?
The scene was set in the parking garage. Greg—Tyler’s character—and my character, Isabel, were about to drive out on patrol together.
“Okay,” said Dixon. “So Tyler’s here, in the driver’s seat. Jasmine, you’re here, next to him.”
I slid into the passenger seat. I could feel Tyler’s eyes on me—on my ass, in the tight uniform pants. On my boobs, under the tight jacket.
“Tyler, you’re just about to drive out. You actually put it into gear...and then I want like an argh! of frustration, like no, damnit, I have to do this!”
“Oh, like—” and Tyler did a perfect, troubled shake of his head. Suddenly, he was all barely-controlled emotion, ready to snap. He really was a good actor.
“Perfect!” said Dixon. “And then you turn to Jasmine and do the line. Now, when it comes to the kiss, I think it’s sort of...you surprise her at first and Jasmine resists...but then she...y’know. Gives in to her urges.”
“So I kiss him back?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Dixon. “I think that’s how to play it.” He said it casually, as if it was any other scene. And it was, right? That’s how it would have been before I’d met Ryan. That’s what I’d told Ryan back when he’d had to kiss me. Except it wasn’t true anymore, was it? Now, I was kissing someone I wasn’t meant to be kissing.
Acting Brave (Fenbrook Academy #3 - New Adult Romance) Page 31