Steal (Seaside Pictures)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I knew there was pain there, I knew there was misery, but why self-destruct? Why not let the people you love help you?

  I shook away the morose thoughts as I put on a way-too-tight white T-shirt that should be illegal in most states, right along with skinny jeans and boots.

  I looked like I had just gone into Demetri Daniels’ closet and then just for grins stolen Zane’s shoes.

  God, I was too old for these kinds of clothes.

  Couldn’t they at least get me relaxed jeans?

  Ones that didn’t show off an erection if my zipper hit me just right?

  I scowled as Gem, the makeup artist, styled my hair, and nearly had an actual heart attack when she grabbed gel and mussed it up so much that I looked like a teenager all over again.

  I narrowed my eyes at her in the mirror. “That’s not how I style my hair anymore.”

  “Well…” She grinned innocently. “This is the direction Mr. Jaymeson would like to go.”

  “Direction?” I repeated. “I look seventeen.”

  She snorted. “Aw honey, you’re too muscular to look seventeen, but I’d say you could pass for twenty-three.” A knowing wink.

  I crossed my arms and damn near ripped my T-shirt in half.

  “You must lift.”

  I gritted my teeth. “You done yet?”

  “I never imagined that the great Will Sutherland would be more difficult to work with than Angelica Greene, and yet…” She trailed off meeting my gaze in the mirror with a pointed look that had me ready to hide behind something.

  And I stopped sulking. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to all of this—” I waved my hand in the air.

  “You mean attention? Oh honey you’ve had attention since the day you opened that mouth of yours and let the world hear you sing, did you think that styling your hair different, wearing other trends, and glasses would make you Clark Kent?” She chuckled again. “Men.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  A knock sounded on the trailer door. “Jay needs Will. He done — holy shit.” The PA was probably around twenty, his face went from a normal healthy shade to complete paleness. “You look… not. Old.”

  Gem met my gaze in the mirror and smirked. “See? At least twenty-three.”

  “I can’t decide if I like you or hate you,” I mused.

  “You like me.” She patted my shoulder with her hand. I don’t know why but I squeezed it. Maybe I needed some of her sass, some of her strength to face everyone looking like.

  I gulped.

  And then stared at myself again in the mirror.

  Looking like myself for the first time in five years.

  I stood on shaky legs and slowly followed the still red-faced PA down the trailer steps and out into the sunlight.

  My gait was slow through the sand.

  The stares however, were frequent, and wide-eyed.

  Like I’d somehow handed in my costume and finally revealed myself. People whispered, I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign; a sort of fear washed over me.

  Yes. Total fear.

  Fear of rejection.

  Fear that people would realize that while Angelica had never been anything but honest about who she was, however mean, however damaged — that when things got hard in my world.

  I forced myself to disappear from it all.

  And created a new person.

  Without a soul.

  BY THE TIME I reached the filming location on the other side of the beach where a small bar stood near the boardwalk, I was ready to hit the ground running, just in the opposite direction, say toward Antarctica. I’d been stopped numerous times.. Every few feet another scream erupted from the sidewalk.

  Seriously? I hadn’t looked that bad… had I?

  Sure, I wore glasses most of the time because it made sense when staring at a computer most days. I’d developed astigmatism, so what?

  And yeah, I liked wearing relaxed jeans, it’s not like they weren’t designer, and right, okay so most of my wardrobe consisted of suits.

  Button ups.

  Jackets.

  I froze.

  “Oh, shit.” I ran my hands through my mussed hair and fought the urge to puke. “I’m my father.”

  I didn’t have time to think about what this meant, and why it hurt so badly when Ang said the same thing, and why I’d needed to hear her deny it, mainly because he was a money hungry lunatic with designer suits and never enough time for his son.

  Besides that, he was boring as hell.

  Hedge fund manager.

  I shuddered.

  I’d gotten my first tattoo in order to piss him off, even had a piercing in both ears and my nose after my first tour.

  I smiled to myself.

  And then looked up.

  Ang was talking with Jay, her eyes wide with fear, and then they both turned to me as the rest of the crew fell silent.

  Maybe that was my new super power, change my hair and clothes and nobody talks; they just stare like I’m from a completely different planet.

  Fun.

  “Hey.” My voice was gravely like I’d been yelling. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Odd since you typically yell at your clients for the same thing,” Jay teased. “You crazy kids ready?”

  Ang’s face paled as she eyed me up and down and tucked her hair behind her ears then started fumbling with her script.

  I held mine up. “Apparently, I’m not speaking again.”

  “Eh, you sound smarter when you don’t have actual lines.” Jay grinned, “Now get in position.”

  I distracted myself by reading what position I was actually supposed to be in but all it said was “sit in the booth.” And yet again with no sort of direction other than naturally not to speak, which in Jaymeson’s world meant, only speak if you don’t sound like an ass.

  No pressure.

  And naturally, I didn’t see Angelica’s lines because that was just another fun game Jay liked to play. I was like the statue in her acting world.

  I sat in the booth and waited while Ang made her way over to me.

  “Quiet on set!”

  Her skintight dress was leather; it made noises when she walked. I couldn’t stop looking at her thighs or imagining what it would be like if she were to wrap those legs around me.

  Meaning I needed to get the hell out of these skinny jeans, fast.

  “Party scene, take one, action.” The PA slated and walked behind camera while Jay nodded to us.

  “You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” Ang asked in a teasing voice, her smile was so full of life, so vibrant that I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “It got you over here… didn’t it?” I answered, suddenly feeling like I wasn’t the wounded brokenhearted agent who tried to keep his celebrity clients out of jail.

  No, I was just a man.

  Staring at a beautiful woman.

  Wishing she was sitting by my side.

  Ang looked over her shoulder then back at me and lowered her voice, “Only because it’s creepy.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Are you calling me creepy?”

  “Just did.” She crossed her arms. “Good thing you’re hot.”

  “I’m not hot,” I said it quickly, confidently.

  “Pretty sure every girl in here thinks so.”

  “Funny, since only one girl matters.” Who was this guy? What was I doing! I had no lines! And yet no cut. Was Jay just relying on our chemistry?

  I balked.

  Chemistry.

  We’d always had it.

  Since the first day.

  We would always have it.

  But only when forced to speak to—

  My smile fell and then I just went for it as I leaned across the table and whispered, “Dance with me.”

  Angelica’s eyes widened. Yeah, I was apparently really going off script now. But who the hell cared? Jaymeson could always yell cut.

  I ignored the cameras, my eyes focused in only on h
ers.

  There wasn’t music, in the movie there would be, but now it was just us, just our words, just our bodies swaying.

  “You shouldn’t want to dance with me,” she finally said. “But I’m glad you are.”

  “You shouldn’t want me to dance with you either,” I agreed, “Because I’m a complete dick, but I’m glad you said yes.”

  “Good thing you were staring.”

  “Yeah,” I cupped her face, “Good thing.”

  She leaned up. I met her halfway and kissed her.

  “CUT!” Jaymeson yelled just as I was getting a taste.

  Frustration crackled over my nerves. Tension settled in my jaw. One day, one day he was going to die with that damn camera shoved up his ass.

  Ang pulled away, I felt it in my soul the distance she put between us, the uncertainty in her eyes. She started chewing on her thumbnail again. “You look different.”

  “Yeah.” I tried and failed to shove even one hand into my pocket. “Apparently I don’t look old anymore.”

  Her lips lifted into a smile. “I was going to say you finally look like you.”

  We didn’t have to re-do the scene, no matter how many times I mentally begged Jay to let us re-visit the kiss, probably because I knew, at least in real life, I didn’t deserve her mouth but at least if we were acting, I could lie to myself and say it was okay.

  Five hours later and we were both driving home together.

  Home.

  I clenched the steering wheel.

  Our home.

  The coffee cup sat where I’d left it in the Rover.

  She saw it.

  She said nothing.

  But when I parked, she grabbed it like it was hers, and walked ahead of me toward the house.

  “BONFIRE!” ZANE SHOUTED pounding on the door minutes after both Ang and I had gotten home.

  I groaned. “Think we can hide?”

  “I can hear you whispering!” Zane yelled. “Plus I saw the SUV pull up, we already got all the shit, I got the mallows, meet us all on the beach in ten. And Will, try not to look like our chaperone!”

  “Try not to look naked!” I yelled back.

  “No promises!” was Zane’s only reply before we were once again left alone, I’d walked off set in my old clothes and suddenly felt like a stranger in my own body, as if the parts didn’t match anymore.

  “What do you say?” I eyed Ang wearily. “You too tired?”

  She gave her head a shake. “Even if I was, they’d just come back and kidnap one of us… let me just grab some water and I’ll be ready.”

  “I’ll get it.” I held out my hand.

  She was still holding onto the coffee cup.

  I purposefully pried it from her fingers, went over to the counter, washed it, and put it away all before getting her a bottle of water from the fridge. When I handed it to her, I asked. “Why did you keep it?”

  “The truth?” She unscrewed the top of the bottle.

  “Always.”

  “Because it was a part of you, no matter how small, that was mine.”

  My heart cracked. “You’ve always had me, Ang, even when you didn’t know it, you had me.”

  She looked down. “We should go.”

  “Wait.” I stepped in front of her. “I…” I closed my eyes; it hurt to look at her. “I’m sorry, about this last week, about the way I’ve treated you, spoken to you. I’m so damn sorry. Could you—” Yeah, it hurt more than it should. “Will you forgive me?”

  Her eyes widened a fraction before she took a step back. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Will, I say this as a human concerned for your welfare, but… you have to lose the glasses at least when you don’t need them.”

  I sputtered out a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

  “And the button ups,” she added with a bright smile scrunching up her nose, “and stop covering your ass and biceps—”

  “Everyone has their choice of armor,” I swallowed then quickly looked away.

  “What made you think you ever needed it?” she asked in a soft voice.

  I opened my mouth then closed it. Nobody had ever asked me that and I had no clue how to answer. Or maybe I Just wasn’t comfortable exploring all the reasons. So instead, I deflected. “What’s yours?”

  “Oh, I’m special I didn’t have just one,” she said in a flat tone. “Let’s see… first it was this guy Will Sutherland, and when I discovered you couldn’t actually use flawed humans as armor, I switched to something that would help me stay up late on set so I wouldn’t mess up my lines anymore, and when I couldn’t sleep, I chose an armor that made me feel as warm as Will Sutherland arms used to feel before he hit it even bigger than before, and then the blanket choked me, it promised comfort — but in the end, death.” She looked away. “And then, it seemed the only choice I had, after losing all sense of comfort, purpose, identity — reputation. Was to become a bitch, that way,” She sighed heavily, “Nothing could ever get close enough to keep me warm again, not when you purposely choose the cold. Not when you choose discomfort.”

  “Your first choice in armor was your first mistake,” I said.

  She locked eyes with me. “The most favorite mistake I’ve ever made.”

  YOU KNOW THAT feeling you get when you know you’ve said too much of the heavy things that should really never be spoken out loud in the first place? I had that feeling, in my stomach the entire time we walked down to the beach. Will didn’t seem to mind my silence, but I minded. I minded that I’d basically exposed myself to him a very vulnerable way and he’d chosen silence. Again.

  And the more I thought about it the more disappointed I became.

  Until Demetri’s words hit me all over again like a sense of Déjà Vu when I saw his face near the bonfire.

  “He doesn’t hate you. He hates himself.”

  I stumbled into the sand, Will gripped my arm and kept me from planting my face in the dirt. “You okay?”

  “I don’t hate you.” I said the same thing that the guys had said to me over and over again this past week. I looked up at Will and spoke slower, with more meaning. “I could never hate you, Will. Ever. No matter what’s been said, you aren’t easy to hate. You’re just easy to miss, which means it’s easy to be sad and turn that sadness into anger, especially when I blame myself.”

  “There isn’t a chance in hell I’m ever letting you believe this was all on you, Ang. Not now, not ever, I’ve been thinking and—”

  “You guys made it!” Zane yelled, “Come on!”

  “Later,” he whispered, gripping my hand so tight I couldn’t let go even if I wanted to. He held it the entire way to the bonfire.

  And before I even felt the flames.

  I felt heat.

  The Sutherland Sunset folks — a real phenomenon.

  “I thought you weren’t going to come.” Fallon jumped over and gave Will a side hug and handed me a bag of mallows. “Hide these just in case we run out, I’m not going back to the store again because Zane has no self-control.”

  I winked. “Got it.”

  “What are you going to do, sit on them?” Will asked.

  “Or…” I quickly dropped them to the sand and covered them up. “I’ll just bury them.”

  “I always knew I liked you.” Fallon grinned and walked off to join Zane while I made sure my marshmallow nest was covered so the greedy little rock star wouldn’t find it and steal the goods.

  “All right, calm down people.” Jay raised his hands high. “I know I promised we wouldn’t talk about work—”

  Alec groaned, and Demetri gave him the middle finger.

  The rest of the girls laughed while Linc made out with Dani in the corner. I quickly looked away.

  “But…” Jay looked directly at Will. “I’d like to officially welcome Will Sutherland, teen pop star who set a million hearts a flutter.” Will groaned into his hands. “Back from the dead. Today is the first day in five years you don’t look like a stock bro
ker or a Hollywood agent.”

  “Here, here!” Everyone raised their drinks, a mix of soda, beer, and water was thrust into the air, mainly because most of the guys had stopped drinking heavily once they settled down. We’d all had our addictions and each stepping-stone led to another trap for us.

  I knew it well.

  Thus the water bottle currently in my hand.

  Will looked like he was either ready to punch Jay or make a run for it, but then he laughed.

  Loudly.

  Beautifully.

  Like he was finally free.

  After years of being in prison.

  I gawked.

  And I’m sure the rest of the people present were thinking the same thing, at least the females. Damn the man was made well.

  Tight muscles wrapped around his body, the body of a man, no more teen idol here folks, his square jaw, mussed hair, and soulful eyes were enough to make me feel the need to look away.

  Directly at a very amused looking Nat who winked and elbowed Lyss. Great both girls looked ready to plan my wedding.

  “Right, Ang?” Jay asked.

  “Hmm? Yes, what?” Was I staring that long?

  “He looks good, just like he used to.” Jay just had to bring the past up didn’t he?

  “He’s always looked good,” I said in a very PC way.

  “I disagree.” Zane tossed a marshmallow at me then eyed Will up and down. “When I first met you, you were the one almost naked, my friend.”

  “Think you could manage to bury me in that sand with the marshmallows?” Will murmured under his breath in a teasing tone just out of earshot of everyone.

  I popped a marshmallow into my mouth and sat, patting the place next to me, “I think you’re too big, too much physical labor on my part.”

  “In my defense.” Will directed his attention to Zane. “It was the Stripped tour.”

  “Oh I know what tour it was.” Zane grinned. “Because every day on stage you legitimately stripped until girls cried. I’ve never seen so many bras come off in my entire life.”

  “Until he took the stage.” Demetri added.

  Everyone laughed, but I was having trouble not remembering the first time I met Will, when my world had shifted and demanded it join his.

  “Isn’t that the tour you guys met on?” Alec piped up.