The Last Take

by Tabitha Bree

  “Do you see?” Evie grabs my arm again. “You said you wanted to make films that mattered, to do something important with your work.”

  She looks around the crowded room one more time.

  “But you bring people joy. You make them happy.” She tilts her head and smiles sweetly, her eyes rounded. “What could be more important than that?”

  I look into her eyes and I can’t even describe how I’m feeling. But suddenly my chest feels so full it could burst open.

  19

  Evie

  The sun is dipping low in the sky by the time we leave the movie theater. Our work in San Diego is done and I should be exhausted. But I’m not ready to go home.

  “Feel like a drink?”

  Adam’s eyebrows bounce up. “You don’t want to head back?”

  “It’s nearly happy hour. I’m sure we can sneak one drink and still be back in LA at a reasonable hour.”

  Adam pulls out his phone, checking the time. Mr. Anti-Impulsive. There’s a high chance I’ll be heading back to LA without a cocktail in my system.

  “You know what? A beer sounds great.”

  My mouth curls up at the edges and I take the keys from his hand. “Perfect. I know the best place.”

  I drive us to my favorite watering hole in San Diego—a tiki-themed speakeasy that makes delicious coconut-y cocktails and hands out leis at the door. I try to conceal my grin, watching Adam’s face as the girl places the lei over his head.

  “I should’ve known you’d take us to a place like this,” he says as we find a booth in the corner. “You take me as someone who’s into this kitsch-y stuff.”

  “Um… this is not ‘kitsch-y’,” I say with air quotes. “Who doesn’t love colorful paper lanterns and fake palm trees?”

  “You’re right. I’m an idiot.”

  I pick up the menu to peruse the happy hour specials just as the server comes to the table. “What can I get you guys?”

  “Ooh, I’ll take the Chi Chi,” I say, already salivating over the tropical amazingness of the description.

  “And I’ll just get a beer.”

  I snap my head towards Adam. “You can’t just get a beer at a place like this!”

  “I don’t do anything that comes in a novelty cup.”

  My eyes roll back in my head before I turn to the server. “He’ll have the same as me.”

  “Coming right up.”

  When she leaves, I place the menu on the wooden table. “Now is not the time to stop trusting me. Trust me.”

  Adam smiles down at his hands, but nods. “Fine.”

  He didn’t say much after the whole movie thing, but the look on his face, even though I couldn’t see it properly in the dark, said that something struck a chord. Maybe I won’t get him excited about Primal Nature, but I can at least try to lighten his Oscar-the-Grouch demeanor a tad.

  The server returns with our drinks, placing them in front of us.

  “Seriously?” Adam says, picking up the huge totem head tiki cup.

  “You will drink it and you will love it. Cheers.”

  He grudgingly touches his cup to mine but refuses to drink through the bamboo straw, claiming it’s like “sucking on a tiny penis”.

  “Jesus, how much rum is in this?” he asks, holding it out like the totem head might answer his question.

  I shrug. “A tropical amount?”

  “You do realize we have to drive home tonight?”

  “Eh.” I take another sip. It’s pineapple and rum and coconut and magic. “We’ll stop at one.”

  We did not stop at one.

  “You look insane,” Adam laughs.

  “Do I?” I adjust the tiki mask on my face, and add a coconut bra over my chest. “How about now?”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  I take off my props and go in for a large slurp from my cup—this time it’s a giant coconut. “These drinks are stronger than I remember.”

  I have that fuzzy warm feeling. The one that envelopes you in a hug after you’ve had two to five cocktails. The place has really filled out, everyone drinking and having a good time. Including the man sitting across from me. In fact, I’ve never seen him so mellow, sitting back in the booth, people-watching with an easy smile on his face.

  “This place suits you,” I say, crossing my arms while I observe him.

  “Shit, take that back.”

  “What! You just look happy is all.”

  “Well.” He leans forward, bunching his shoulders. “I’ve had a good day.”

  “Me too.”

  We smile at each other for a second too long, and I tuck my hair behind my ear, ignoring that weird stomach thing again.

  The truth is, I can’t stop feeling the stomach thing.

  I haven’t been able to stop since dinner last night.

  The way Adam stood up to my parents. The way he vouched for me. Defended me. I’ve never had anyone do that. Especially not some brooding, rugged man who is at this moment looking very attractive amongst the island paraphernalia.

  A brooding, rugged man who is also basically my boss.

  You need to stop.

  I put the drink down on the table. Rum and a handsome male, and perhaps a touch of sunstroke, is a dangerous combination. That and the fact I haven’t had sex in about a year. The most action I’ve had was Adam saving me from the candles. When his body was pressed on top of me…

  I shiver just thinking about it.

  I can’t help but contemplate what he’d be like as a lover. Despite his blunt manner in everyday life, I expect he’d be more considerate in the bedroom. Deliberate and strategic to get the desired result. Directing the act the way he would direct a scene in a movie. Place hand here… put mouth there… a little softer… a little harder…

  Why are you thinking about him and hard in the same sentence?

  “Are you okay?” Adam stares at me, forehead bunched.

  “Who? Me? I’m fine, I’m just…” I rack my brain for an appropriate response, “wondering where you and I are going to stay tonight?”

  “What?” His eyes boggle.

  “No! Not like that!” My cheeks burn warm. “That’s your third cocktail. You won’t be able to drive anywhere for a while.”

  “Oh… right. Well, I guess we’ll just go back to the same place we went last night,” he says.

  I nod, trying to still the pesky butterflies. It seems like the only thing to do is drown them out. I take my drink and suck through the straw until the coconut runs dry. “In that case. Another round?”

  Adam grins. “It would be rude not to. These themed cups are growing on me.”

  Two more drinks later, and things are getting silly.

  “I’m not answering that.”

  “You have to answer, it’s the rules of a game,” I say.

  “Choosing between having either a shark head and a human body, or a shark tail and a human torso and head, is never a decision I’ll have to make in real life.”

  “It’s a decision you have to make right now.”

  Adam sighs, sipping through his bamboo straw, which he succumbed to three cocktails ago. “Fine. I guess I’d pick a shark tail.”

  “But you would never be able to walk again?”

  “Would you want to walk around with a shark head??”

  I fall into a fit of giggles, barely able to talk. “Can you just imagine…”

  “This game is ridiculous,” Adam says, but he can’t stop laughing either. We’re wiping our eyes as the server comes back over.

  “Can I get you another round?”

  “Hey, would you rather—”

  “DON’T answer her question,” Adam jumps in and we crack up again.

  “You seem to be having a good time here,” the server smiles. “Can I get you anything?”

  I look at my empty glass, trying to do the calculations in my head. At this rate, if I keep going, I’ll definitely wake up with a hangover tomorrow.

  “I think I need to cut myself off,” I
say, touching the corner of my eye with a fingertip.

  “Just the check, please,” Adam confirms.

  As the server settles our bill, I’m overcome with that weird, end-of-date anticipation. Even though this isn’t a date. Obviously.

  But there’s something about leaving the bar with Adam… the way he asks if I want to walk instead of get a cab… the way he puts his sweater over my shoulders when the breeze picks up…

  It only takes us twenty minutes to walk to the hotel from the speakeasy, and we chat for most of the way. Now and then our eyes meet and linger for a moment, our reflex to look away compromised by rum.

  I can’t help but wonder if he’s had the same thoughts I’ve had. This guy strolling next to me is miles away from the standoffish, abrupt man I met that first day on set. The person with me now is less guarded… relaxed…

  … and he’s still looking at me.

  “I never showed my appreciation,” he says, stopping just outside the hotel. “For earlier.”

  I smile. “I just wanted to help you… I don’t know… find your joy again. Is that dumb?”

  He laughs. “You are anything but dumb.”

  His stare is more intense now, and I’m not thinking straight. If I was, I wouldn’t be having thoughts of grabbing his stubbly face in my hands and crushing my lips against his. The image floods my brain, and I inhale sharply to wake myself up.

  “Should we go in?” I blurt.

  He pushes open the door to the reception office, and a tiny lady with enormous glasses greets us. “You folks need a room?”

  “Two rooms,” Adam clarifies hastily.

  “Oh gosh… I’m not sure we have two rooms left. Let me check.”

  She types on her keyboard and my heart pumps blood a million miles a second. This cannot be happening.

  Sharing a room?

  How the heck is that going to work? Would we ask for a cot? Make sure it had a couch? We couldn’t possibly…

  My mind wanders to the two of us, side by side, in bed next to each other…

  “Ooh, you’re in luck. I have two double rooms, just down the hall from each other.”

  “Great,” Adam breathes, looking sideways at me.

  My pulse resumes a normal pace, but for some reason, I feel almost disappointed. Sharing a room would be super weird, but this is the most fun I’ve had in ages. I don’t want to say goodnight to him just yet.

  The receptionist hands us our room keys and we pile into the elevator. I’m suddenly very aware of the four walls surrounding us.

  “I had fun tonight,” Adam says, filling the silence. “Maybe you’ve converted me into a tiki bar man after all.”

  “It’s the best kind of man to be,” I reply, rubbing at the goosebumps that have taken residence on my arm.

  You need to chill out.

  The doors open and we are back on unmoving land, making our way to our rooms. As we reach mine first, Adam stops and turns to face me.

  If it didn’t feel like a date before, it sure as heck does now.

  This is that moment; that part after a first date that if all has gone well, is usually followed by a first kiss.

  And maybe it’s the rum talking, but I could reeaally kiss this guy.

  I stare up at him, unable to breathe… dying in anticipation of what might happen next.

  “So, I’ll meet you downstairs in the morning? We can walk back to the car together.”

  “Sure,” I say, exhaling, and feeling like a moron.

  “Um, I’ll text you to see when you’re up?”

  I nod.

  He stands there, hesitating.

  Is he going to kiss me?

  “Well, goodnight then.” He does a soldier salute before turning and continuing down the hall.

  “Night,” I call after him, watching as he gets further away.

  I buzz myself into the room and close the door behind me, slumping back against it. Why am I being such an idiot? As if he was ever going to kiss me. And it would be a horrible idea, anyway. I’m his assistant. I’d have to see him every day at work. Make awkward eyes as I hand out gaffer tape and bottles of water.

  No more lethal cocktails for Evie, I scold myself, walking toward the bathroom for a sobering shower.

  But then there’s a knock at the door.

  20

  Adam

  Fuck.

  What am I doing?

  When we said goodnight, I felt my stomach sink. Disappointment eroded my entire body. Turning back around and heading for Evie’s room felt natural—like gravity, or a human-sized magnet pulling me where I was supposed to be. But now that I’m standing here, rapping my knuckles on her door, I’m full of doubt.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  The door swings open, and she just stares at me. Like she knew it was going to be me.

  Okay, say something.

  “Um…” I mumble.

  Say fucking more than that.

  She probably thinks I’m a massive weirdo at this point, so I think as quickly as I can.

  “My sweater,” I finally manage. “I wanted to get my sweater back from you.”

  Ugh. Douchebag.

  “Oh,” she says, her eyebrows pinching at the middle. She walks to the chair behind her and picks the sweater up. Which is just long enough for me to get a great view of her ass. Which is also great.

  Jesus, I need to get a grip.

  The entire night felt like foreplay. The smiling, the little touches, the prolonged eye contact. I tried ignoring it, but it’s no use now. It’s time to face the facts.

  I want this girl.

  And I had a feeling she wanted me too. The way her eyes flicked to mine at the bar. The way she bit her lip when I gave her my sweater.

  But then, when we were outside the hotel, she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. We were having a moment… at least I thought we were having a moment… and then she bolted inside. And the last thing I wanted to be was some creepy director trying to have it off with his PA.

  I didn’t want to be that guy.

  So I don’t know why I came back to her room. Call it a fool’s errand. One last pathetic attempt to see if something was happening between us, or if it’s all in my head.

  But I can’t do it. Watching her standing here, looking up at me with her gorgeous brown eyes I could just swim in… there’s no way I’m risking taking a shot and finding out I’ve got the signs all wrong. I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to the female species.

  “Thanks,” I say, holding up the sweater lamely. I walk back toward the door, a second wave of disappointment clenching at my insides.

  “Adam?”

  I freeze.

  Who knew my name on someone’s lips could sound so perfect?

  When I turn around, she’s gazing at me intently. And there it is again.

  That damn lip bite.

  I don’t let myself hesitate this time. Swinging the door closed and tossing the sweater on the floor, I close the distance between us in three steps, and take her face in my hands. Our mouths come together, and I’m filled with delicious, sweet relief as her hands slide around my back, pulling me close.

  Her lips are as soft and smooth as they look, and as they massage against mine, I can’t get enough of them. She tastes like coconut and pineapple and just when I think a kiss couldn’t get any better, she slides her tongue into my mouth. It’s delicate, yet playful… like she’s testing how badly I want her.

  Which is really fucking badly.

  I move my hands around her waist, sliding them under her t-shirt and onto her warm skin. She weaves her fingers through my hair, tugging it lightly and pulling my mouth even harder onto hers. Our tongues dance together, meeting and retreating at all the right moments, and then her teeth graze over my bottom lip.

  Fuck.

  We break apart and she stares up at me daringly, letting me know she’s not fooling around. “I want you.”

  I groan at the words, hoisting her up so she can wrap he
r legs around my waist. If she wasn’t already aware that I want her too, she sure as hell will be now. I’m so hard, I feel like I’m going to combust.

  We only make it as far as the wall. I press her against it as she pulls at my shirt, tugging it over my head. She drags her hands over my chest, stooping down to trace kisses across my collarbones. I have to stop myself from tearing her shirt right off her body, taking the time to slide it over her fair arms, tracing my fingers over the splatter of freckles across her shoulders. I unhook her bra with one hand, watching it fall to the side and reveal her perfect breasts. So perfect, I need to take one in my mouth before I can do anything else. She moans, clawing at my hair as I flick my tongue over her nipple.

  I heave against her, our shorts the only barrier between me and what feels like the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Even through clothing, her body feels so good against my cock, and if I don’t have her soon, I think I’m going to pass out.

  “I want to fuck you,” I growl.

  She groans into my ear, sliding her hand between us and rubbing it against my crotch.

  “So do it,” she whispers, sending a current of electricity down my spine.

  I hold my hands against her ass to pick her up again, this time making it all the way to the bed. Throwing her down on the mattress, I watch her hungrily as I unbutton my shorts, pushing them down so they fall on the floor.

  Her gaze floats down until it meets its target. Which, at this point, could take an eye out. Her chest rises as she takes me in, before she does that lip bite thing again and…

  Holy fucking shit.

  I climb onto the bed, unzipping her shorts and pulling them down. Underneath, she’s wearing pink underwear with Simpsons characters on them and honestly, nothing has ever been sexier.

  I move over her, running a hand down her body until it rests on the space between her legs. And I begin to rub.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I say into her ear as she makes tiny little whimpering noises.