Pretending to Be Us

by Taylor Holloway

  “Sure, you can,” he said encouragingly. “You killed that last scene.”

  “That last scene almost killed me.”

  “I think you’re doing great,” he said weakly. “Your scenes this morning were a bit rough, sure, but that last one was super convincing.” Daniel looked around as if the answer to my freak-out was stashed somewhere in the trailer. It wasn’t. “I definitely bought it that you wanted to get with Peter Prince,” he continued. “You two have great chemistry.”

  I peeked at him from between my fingers. My heart was still pounding from having a very public private moment with the hottest guy I’d ever seen. “Oh really?” I sputtered sarcastically. “You think?”

  Daniel sank down onto the makeup artist’s stool. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

  I shook my head back in forth in a panic. “No. Yes. Well, not exactly.”

  My reflection stared back at me from the mirror and I looked wild. My hair was coming out of the big, puffy ballerina bun that accompanied the Tinkerbell outfit. My face was flushed.

  “Then what?” Daniel asked, still looking bewildered. I was not usually the type to have a random meltdown. He clearly had no idea how to deal with it.

  That made two of us.

  “I’m worried he’ll find out my secret,” I whispered.

  Daniel blinked at me. “Find out that you’re not a real princess?”

  I swallowed hard and shook my head. “No. My, um, other secret. We have to shoot the sex scene tomorrow and I’ve never done that before and...”

  “What other secret?” Daniel asked. I could, distantly, understand why he wasn’t following.

  “I’m a virgin,” I whispered like it was a shameful, awful secret. “We have to shoot a sex scene and I’ve never even had sex for real.”

  Daniel’s eyes went wide. “You’re a what?” He looked me up and down in surprise. “Really?”

  I buried my face back in my hands. “I know it's weird,” I told him in a muffled, mortified voice. “I mean, I like to think I don’t broadcast virgin vibes, and I was never expecting that I’d have to wait this long, and I’m not like some kind of super conservative that doesn’t believe in sex before marriage or whatever...” I was rambling. “I just never found the right guy.”

  Daniel frowned. “It’s not that weird,” he said, attempting to comfort me and utterly failing. “Plenty of people are virgins at twenty-two.” I looked at him dubiously and he shrugged. “I was a virgin at twenty-two.”

  “That’s different,” I whined.

  “How?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

  “Well, for starters, you lived in a tiny, crappy town with no hot gay guys.”

  “No gay guys period,” he corrected. Then he looked thoughtful. “At least, not that I knew of.”

  “So, it’s totally different,” I repeated. “You have a great excuse for being a twenty-two-year-old virgin. I don’t. I like guys and everything. I just never met somebody I liked.”

  Although, now that I’d met and made out with Peter, I had a hard time even remembering anyone else I’d ever liked. There was nobody else that pushed my buttons like he did. The way he pushed me back against the fake refrigerator and delivered a very real kiss to the base of my neck? It was all I could do not to burst into flames right then and there.

  Daniel was, thankfully, oblivious to my steamy flashback.

  “I could’ve had sex with any girl in my hometown if I had wanted to,” he told me. “I had several opportunities, and believe me, when compared to the other greasy denizens of the local dating scene, I looked pretty appealing. The fact that I didn’t have an arrest record alone put me in the one percent.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Now you’re just making it worse.”

  “It’s not that weird to be a virgin,” Daniel repeated. “I swear.”

  The sparkling, electric lust that had been racing through me moments ago with Peter had fled. Instead I felt a horrible sinking sensation and a cold, hollow pit in my stomach. “It’s weird and you know it. I have no good excuse for being a virgin at this age.” I swallowed hard. “How am I supposed to shoot a sex scene tomorrow when I don’t know anything about sex?”

  Daniel looked at me. “I don’t know, Lucy. This is not a problem I know how to solve. Straight people sex is weird.”

  “Straight people sex is weird?”

  He nodded. “Well, I mean you’re not exactly asking the best person for advice here, are you?” He made a loop with his forefinger and thumb and pushed the index finger of his opposite hand into it repeatedly. “I’ve heard it goes something like that.”

  “That’s how gay sex goes too, unless I’m mistaken.”

  Daniel shrugged. “Look, I'm not the one who can coach you through a straight sex scene. Can’t you just, like, watch some porn tonight and then... do that tomorrow?”

  “Is the sex in porn even remotely realistic?” I asked. I wasn’t the biggest porno watcher, but I had my doubts even from my limited experience.

  He shook his head. “No. Not really. But it’s the best we can do under the circumstances.”

  I frowned. I thought about it.

  I came up with a very bad, very good idea.

  “Maybe there’s another way,” I mused. “I’ll meet you at home. Don’t wait up for me.”

  15

  Peter

  After the hottest take of my life, I attempted to organize my thoughts and sort through what had just happened. I should probably do something productive, but I couldn’t. I could barely even stay upright.

  The problem with being a professional pretender is that sometimes you forget the edges of the fantasy. The boundaries blur. You forget where you end and the character starts. I usually don’t forget quite so thoroughly. And almost never in front of a crowd. But that wasn’t what had me rattled. Not really. It was her.

  I paced back and forth. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t much care about what just happened. A little on-camera make out session with a pretty girl was a totally fine way to make a living in my book. If anything, I’d chalk it up to good writing and solid direction. I’d pat myself on the back and be happy for a job well done. Vanessa got what she needed in that scene. We wouldn’t have to do another take.

  Yay. Great. On with the show.

  But this wasn’t any other scene, or movie, or costar. This was Lucy, the frustrating creature that showed up from freakin’ Sweden to turn my world upside down. There was a copy of the script on the floor of my trailer and I chucked it across the room with my foot in frustration.

  A princess. I would get a crush on a princess. And a coworker to boot. I always liked to make things hard on myself. There was definitely something hard on me at the moment. Thanks to her.

  I took a deep breath, forced myself to sit down, and tried to focus on something, anything else. A knock on the door was a welcome distraction for about two seconds until a blonde head poked inside and big blue eyes looked at me curiously. I froze.

  She was seeking me out? After... whatever that was that happened on set? I tried not to get my hopes up.

  “Can I come in?” Lucy asked, not waiting for a reply and closing the door behind her. She’d lost the Tinkerbell costume, but the body glitter was still there. I watched the sparkles shine on her neck and wondered how far down they extended...

  We were alone. I felt the power of it, weighed against the lust of the scene we just shot and the heaviness of my own baggage and set of rules. I balanced on the edge.

  She wasn’t beet red anymore, but she definitely didn’t look comfortable, either. Her eyes crawled around my face for a moment and then over every surface in the room that wasn’t me. She smiled. Then she stepped closer. And closer. And closer. She pulled off her shirt.

  “I like you,” she said. Her voice was seductive, and I was more than good to go.

  “Dating coworkers is generally a bad idea.” The words were out of my mouth before I could consider them. Or their implication. But I was staring at her ti
ts and the conviction wasn’t there.

  “This isn’t that,” she replied. Her eyes were mischievous.

  I kissed her. I couldn’t help it. Not when she was topless, and willing, and reaching for me. And this time, I had no excuse for what happened next.

  Lucy hesitated for only a moment. I went slowly enough for her to know exactly what I wanted. I telegraphed every move, giving her plenty of time to change her mind and move away. She didn’t.

  I put a hand under her chin and tipped it up, looking at her and wondering who she was. I wasn’t any closer to understanding her now. But I understood how to kiss her, and I understood that I wanted to, and for the moment, that was enough.

  She let me pull her in, press my lips to hers, invade her mouth with mine, and take what I’d been denied in front of the cast and crew. More. I wanted more and more and more of her. And she offered it up so sweetly, kissing me back and folding into my arms when I pulled her back onto the couch with me. It wasn’t lost on me that she no longer tasted like Altoids mints, but whiskey. She’d done a shot before coming in here. Working up her courage? She was still braver than me. I'd planned on sulking in here all evening. I wouldn’t have sought her out, even though I was dying to.

  There was no corner of my brain that thought this was a good idea. But I wasn’t thinking with my brain. Here I was making the same mistake that got me on the cover of National Enquirer a few years ago. I was making out with another pretty, young actress I was working with. Another twenty-two-year-old trying to make a name for herself in Hollywood. But I was older now. I wasn’t twenty-two this time. I was old enough to make a totally different mistake.

  “Let’s just get this out of our systems right now,” Lucy said. She said all this like it made sense. “We’ll feel better and then you won’t have to worry anymore.” She started to unbutton her pants and I stared, transfixed as every button undone showed more white, smooth skin.

  “Do I seem worried?” I asked, feeling like I’d never been less worried in my life. I should have been worried. I should have been very worried, but those buttons... She was almost done with the buttons. She pushed her pants down and off. The black, lacey panties she was wearing matched the black, lacey bra that was just enough to contain her full, perfect tits.

  She reached for me and I pulled her up and onto my lap, leaning into her and settling her exactly where I wanted her. I pulled my shirt off and her eyes widened appreciatively in a way I didn’t mind at all. I gripped her ass with both hands, squeezing and kneading. She might be on top, but I was going to be in charge. That was another one of my rules, although she didn’t know it yet. When it came to sex, I was always going to be the one in charge.

  “I won’t embarrass you again in public,” she mumbled, pausing on shrugging out of her bra and staring at me. “I promise.”

  “You didn’t,” I mumbled into the sweet skin at the base of her slender neck. It came out a sort of strangled growl. “Quit saying that.” I tugged on her hair a bit and she arched her back.

  She pulled the bra all the way off. I dragged her back to me, touching every inch of bare skin I could get my hands on and reaching down the waistband of her pants for more. She ground onto me, finding all the friction she could want against my rock-hard cock. I pushed her down onto me, appreciating the way her breath caught and her body worked on mine. Her hands went to my zipper.

  Out of nowhere it occurred to me that she was here for a reason, and it wasn’t just sex. Although it was harder than anything I’d ever done in my life, I paused. I held her back by the shoulders. “We shouldn’t do this,” I told her. Her naked tits were at eye level. “It’s a really bad idea.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “What?” She was panting and so was I. But something about this didn’t feel right. Something else was going on.

  “Why are you in here right now?” I asked her.

  She blinked, her hands went to my chest and I loved the way it felt. Too much. “To have sex with you. I thought that was obvious.” Her smile was gentle, but I didn’t trust it. She was a bad actress sometimes.

  “Why?” I asked.

  She shifted back and forth on my lap, probably in discomfort, although it created quite the opposite feeling in me. I bit back a moan. I wanted to fuck her so badly it was physically painful. I wanted to do dirty, wonderful, naughty things to her and figure out exactly what kind of a woman she was. Restraint wasn’t my strong suit. Restraining Lucy, maybe. But not self-restraint. That was harder.

  “We need to get this out of our systems,” she said. Her voice was a throaty whisper. “It’ll be better that way. It’ll be easier.” She leaned in to kiss me again and I held her back.

  “That’s not the only reason, is it?” I knew there had to be more to this. I just couldn’t believe that idealistic, restrained little Lucy was coming on to me for no-strings sex. The precious few glimpses of personality she seemed to grant me all pointed to a pretty buttoned up, prim little creature. She wasn’t like this. I halfway wished she was, but that didn’t make it true.

  “Does it matter?” she asked.

  “Yes.” For some reason. “It does. I don’t want either of us to regret this.”

  “Ask me after.” She smirked. “Tell me after if you regretted this, too.”

  “I’m asking now.” I sighed. “I’m not that easy, Princess. Tell me why you’re here.”

  She winced. I stared at her and she slowly melted. It took a long, tense moment but her face fell, and she wilted under my gaze.

  “I need to tell you something,” she said. “I really shouldn’t but I’m going to.” Her voice, and the look in her eyes, told me everything I needed to know. There was something going on. Something besides mutual attraction and a hot as hell make out scene. My heart sank. This is why I didn’t date actresses. They always had an ulterior motive. An angle. Even the princess had one.

  “What?” I asked her, fearing the absolute worst.

  “It's about Darcy,” Lucy said. She bit her lip like she was scared to even say her name.

  It was my turn to hide surprise. “What about her?”

  What the fuck did Darcy have to do with the fact that Lucy was topless on my lap?

  “She hates me,” Lucy admitted. She looked embarrassed just to say it.

  All I could do was nod. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. “She wants you fired.” I shrugged. Darcy was a shark.

  Lucy blinked at me. “It’s that obvious?” She looked disconcerted that anyone had noticed.

  “She’s that obvious, yeah.” I shook my head at her. “Darcy's not exactly keeping her feelings for you a secret. She’s telling anyone who’ll listen, and plenty who won’t. She wants you fired so she can replace you with someone else.”

  “Don’t let her.” Lucy's expression was desperate. “Please don’t let her.”

  “Let her?” I had no idea what was going on anymore.

  “Replace me. Get me fired. I need this job. I really, really need this job.”

  Her eyes were suddenly teary, and it was gut punch.

  “Why would I do that?” I snapped. “Wait, is that why you’re here? To convince me not to listen to Darcy?”

  Did I seem like someone who would do that? I guess she didn’t know what to expect from me. Maybe she thought I was. And that was why she was here offering herself up to me? For work? I swallowed. Apparently, I’d underestimated the little princess’s ambition and drive to land her role.

  “No. But just don’t okay?” Her vulnerability was back. Her cheeks turned pink and she curled in on herself in a very un-princess-like way. “I know you could get rid of me in two seconds if you wanted to.” Her expression hardened all of a sudden. “Couldn’t you?”

  I nodded. “Probably,” I admitted after a moment.

  Lucy’s eyes flashed with an emotion I didn’t recognize.

  “I know that I didn’t do that well this afternoon...” she trailed off. I had the sudden feeling that this was the first real
conversation we’d had that wasn’t an argument or part of a scene, but I was abruptly too angry to grasp the significance.

  “That was as much my fault as yours," I grumbled. “I sucked today.”

  Lucy stared at me. She was deciding whether to believe me or not. I couldn’t tell what she chose. Her eyes were begging me for some reason. “Look, I know you don’t want to date me and it’s probably obvious that I like you a lot and I’m sure that’s just painfully clear after that last take, but I won't make things weird. I didn’t mean to embarrass you earlier, and anyways, I think we should probably just have sex so that it isn’t weird on set because I can’t risk being fired--”

  “I can’t do this.” There were a number of things wrong with what she said, including the fact that she thought she’d embarrassed me, but I couldn’t unpack it all. One thing stood out.

  She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and stared at me. “You don’t want me now? Because I told you I was worried about being fired? You don’t want me because I was honest with you?”

  “I don’t want to have sex with you if you’re only doing it because you’re afraid I’ll get you fired.”

  “That’s not what I said.” A line appeared between her blond eyebrows. “That’s not the only reason.”

  “It’s part of what you said.” And that part made me feel awful, and ill. “Desperation’s not a good look on you, Princess.”

  “Quit calling me that.”

  “Okay. I think you should go, Lucy.” My voice was mild, but I was angry. At her, at myself, at whatever circumstances had led her to come here and try and seduce me for a mixture of reasons that made me feel dirty. I liked her. Too much. Far too much to let this be the reason she wanted to sleep with me.

  “Fine. I’ll go. Forget I ever came here.”

  She scrambled off my lap in a rush. On her hands and knees, she dove into her discarded clothes and turned her back to me. The sight of her preparing to run away from me made me feel worse. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. My libido was going crazy and I’d be in for a headache when I came down.