Tap, tap, tap.

I can’t sit here all day. I have to go in eventually.

I rubbed my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans for the tenth time and wished I had a paper sack to breathe into since I was feeling kind of woozy.

Instead of my usual spot in the parking lot of the boring factory, I was in some guarded parking garage miles away freaking the hell out because all of this was so unlike me.

I’d even lied to my boss to get the time off I needed to make my mind up about this acting thing. I’d accumulated a ton of vacation time and cashed it all in for the ‘family emergency’ I’d fabricated when I called my supervisor. I didn’t give particulars and—to my immense relief—he didn’t ask for any. I was almost offended that his only comment was, “I’ll just send Stanley to cover your machines. Easy fix.” I was easy to replace and clearly not going to be missed.

That stung a little.

Of course, if I accepted the job on Savages, I’d have to tell the truth. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t see me on TV. But, until I made up my mind I needed to retain the position. Not to mention the fact that I doubted Bryce would still want me as Meadow after he saw me on an actual set and realized how clueless I was. I’d get laughed right out of the building.

Why did Evie have to be on a cruise for so long? I needed to vent, to vocalize all of this to someone who knew me well enough to know how hard this was going to be; and how far out of my comfort zone I had already ventured. And an email just wasn’t the way to do it, not that I’d heard from her yet anyway.

Tap, tap, tap.

Stupid freaking international calling rates.

Just wait until she gets an earful of this shit.

Why does it feel like all the air was sucked out of this car?

I can’t breathe, dammit.

I adjusted the vents and set the temperature as low as it would go, closing my eyes in bliss as my face was bathed in the cool air.

The parking garage—where I was stalling—was attached to an older high-rise. The building was where the majority of Savages episodes were shot. I’d been stopped by security before entering, where I only marginally embarrassed myself by stuttering my own name to the stern-faced guard. Once he double checked my ID, he was a bit friendlier, telling me which level was reserved for the lead actors—which apparently included me. He also gave me specific instructions on where to go once inside, thank goodness. I’d been sincerely worried I’d end up wandering around like an idiot.

Of course, if I never managed to muster up enough courage to get out of my car, none of it really mattered.

I dried my palms again and took a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly through my mouth.

My head was still swimming.

Tap, tap, tap.

I shouldn’t be so freaked out. I’d spent the last thirty-six hours memorizing every word, every nuance of the script Bryce had emailed on Saturday afternoon. I knew the words, I knew the movements and the tone. Now I just had to go in there and do it.

My mind flashed to the last two nights and the horrible nightmares that had plagued what little sleep I’d managed to get. I’d awakened each morning shaky and pissed off that I was shaky. I didn’t expect to coast through this, of course, but I was hoping to feel more in control of things than I did sitting there in that stupid parking garage.

Tap, tap, tap.

Deep breaths, Kaiti.

A soft knock on my passenger side window made me squeak and jump.

Gavin’s gorgeous half-smile greeted me through the glass.

I hit the button to unlock my doors, clutched my hands together in my lap, and hoped he hadn’t seen me doing my finger exercises. How embarrassing.

As he climbed in, the only thing I was aware of—aside from my galloping ‘just got the shit scared out of me’ heartbeat—was how easy his smile was. He was totally relaxed and looked well-rested. The exact opposite of everything I was feeling at the moment. But then, today was business as usual for him. It was me who was right in the middle of a life-altering moment.

“Good morning, Kaiti-fucking-Oliver,” he said by way of greeting.

“Right back at ya, Gavin-fucking-Lane.” I couldn’t help smiling at how comfortable we were teasing each other, and how much the mere sight of him unwound the tension in my shoulders.

After he’d left on Saturday, I hadn’t expected to hear from him again until today, but he’d checked in Sunday to be sure I was doing okay and offered advice on how to prepare for my big day. It was his encouraging messages that had gotten me this far. Now that I was stalled out—and freaking out—his timing couldn’t have been better. Just sitting there with him was helping.

He looked through the windshield, toward the elevator on the far side of the garage, the one I knew took us down to the lobby where everyone was gathering this morning. “You ready for this?”

I groaned and sipped coffee from my This is Probably Booze engraved travel mug. “I’m not sure I’m ready for anything at four in the morning, but here I am.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Mondays are brutal. There have to be a certain number of hours between shoots, and since we usually take twelve hours or more to finish up a single day, that means we end up having to start each day of the week slightly later than the last. Usually by Friday, we start at an almost normal hour, which means Fridays tend to run into the early morning hours of Saturday.” He blew out a breath, eyeing my coffee. “You’ll be practically mainlining that shit before you know it.”

“Gee, you make it all sound like so much fun.” I gestured toward his door. “Now get out so I can burn rubber out of this place before it’s too late.” I was only half joking and I was pretty sure he knew it.

He dropped his hand to cover mine. “No way. We’ve got you now.” His voice was deep and menacing, but his smile ruined the attempt at intimidation.

I laughed softly. “So, if you usually shoot late on Fridays, how is it that you had time to come badger me on a Friday?”

“We were a few weeks ahead of schedule, thank goodness, and we’d actually stalled on shooting some scenes because Bryce refused to use anyone else but you as Meadow.”

“He’s a stubborn man, isn’t he?”

He patted my hand and reached for the door handle. “You have no idea. But you’re about to see for yourself. It’s time to head in.”

I forced myself to get out and stood on wobbly legs, looking at Gavin across the roof of the car. “Did you just happen to see me as you were walking in or were you looking for me?”

He flashed that blindingly beautiful smile of his and shrugged. “I thought you might feel more comfortable having a friend walk in with you on your first day.”

“You’re really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?” I walked around the front of the car to join him.

“Only if it said so in their script.” He offered me his arm and I gratefully took it, trying hard not to let him see me tremble.

Shaking hands and wobbly legs notwithstanding, I was determined to go through with this, even if what I really wanted to do was run home and hide under the covers with a quart of rum raisin.

Or just rum.

Nope. It’s time to quit running.

I was done letting fear hold me back.

And with Gavin’s warm biceps under my hand, and his words of encouragement still replaying in my mind, I felt for the first time in a long time that I’d not only make it through… I was going to fucking kill it.

* * *

I’m gonna puke.

All these famous faces…and they’re watching me; sizing me up and checking me out.

I had a death grip on Gavin’s arm as he marched us right up to the cluster of Emmy, Tony, and Oscar winners like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey, guys. Meet Kaiti, our new recruit. She’s playing Meadow.”

I was strangling the circulation right out of his lower arm, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He put his hand over mine and turned to finish the intros. I already knew who they all were, but I decided standing there mute was better than speaking up.

“Kaiti, this is Skylar Banks who plays Tia Savage, my on-screen sister and off-screen pain in my ass.”

Skylar was leggy, blonde, and stunningly beautiful. She ignored him and offered me her hand. Her gaze tracked over me and something about her too-nice expression rang false. It was something about her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Kaiti. You’ll fit right in as long as you remember one thing above all else…Gavin is full of shit.”

He flipped her off like a real-life brother would, but his expression was off too, like maybe he meant the ‘fuck you’ more than his playful demeanor might indicate. “Bite me.” He turned to the others and nodded to each as he spoke. “Michael Mills here plays Warren, partner number three and all around bad guy.”

Michael was dark-haired with blue eyes that were much lighter than Skylar’s; icy to her cornflower. He was slightly taller than Gavin—maybe six-three to Gavin’s six-one—and had a ghost of a scar running down from his cheekbone to his mouth, bisecting his lip in a sixty-forty split. I knew from the show that he had it but it was much more pronounced on screen.

Gavin continued, “Jenna Noble plays Layla—aka partner number four—who we all know has a thing for Tyler, even if she did throw in with the bad guy over there once or twice.”

Jenna was small, petite with auburn hair and wide, honey-colored eyes that made her look much younger than her actual age. She reminded me of a pixie.

“And this guy,” he said, pointing his middle finger at the only one I didn’t recognize, “is Joey. He’s the casting director, but that’s not the only hat he wears around here, is it Joey?” The stocky, blond man with the nice build and nicer smile flipped him off in return.

“He spends a lot of time in a dunce cap, if that’s what you mean.” This from Michael, who caught me looking at his scar and gave a crooked smile, which made the jagged line deepen. “They add makeup to it. Underscores my role as a villain. Like Scar from The Lion King, only, you know, hotter.” He grinned.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

He shrugged it off. “No worries. It happens more than you’d think.”

“Don’t let him fool you, he likes the looks,” Jenna cut in, then smirked when he tried to deny it. “Oh, please. I’ve seen you flicking your tongue at the extras. You wait for them to focus on your mouth then you start with the crude gestures. And you totally get off on how many of them chase you after that.”

Skylar leaned close to my side and whispered, “Scar from The Lion King would have been a villain either way. The same can be said of some people I know.” She tipped her head at Michael, who was still chatting animatedly with Jenna. “Something to keep in mind.”

Something about her comment made me think it was a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but I just smiled gratefully, like I appreciated the heads up. Her warning told me far more about her than Michael, though.

Gavin cut her a look. “Excuse us. I’m gonna give Kaiti the tour before this morning’s table read.” He turned to me. “I’m sure wardrobe will want your measurements ASAP, so we’ll head there first.”

Skylar hadn’t been invited but clearly couldn’t take a hint. She simply waved a hand toward the long hall to our right. “Sounds good to me, bro. Lead the way.” She was all smiles, ignoring the dirty look Gavin gave her.

Why did I suddenly feel like the show had already started, and I was the only one who didn’t get a script?

* * *

“Marion,” Skylar announced as she darted around us and into the wardrobe room. “We’ve got a new doll for you.”

Marion looked up from where she was crouched on the floor, hemming a skirt that hung from a tailor’s bust. She was a short, round woman with rimless glasses and kind eyes. “I do love a good game of dress up.” She smiled and stood, tucking the needle she’d been using into a decidedly uncomfortable spot on the bust—right in the boob.

My breasts ached in sympathy, and I barely kept from crossing my arms over them.

Gavin stepped forward, tugging me along with him. “Marion, meet Kaiti. She’s joining the cast as Meadow.”

She stuck her hand out to me absently as her gaze traveled the length of my body, literally sizing me up. “Nice to meet you, honey.”

My pulse started to race as I realized Skylar had followed Marion’s lead and was openly staring, both of their gazes wandering from head to toe. I fidgeted at Gavin’s side, my hand squeezing the hell out of his biceps.

Marion reached out and forcibly pulled him away from me. “How am I supposed to get a good look with you plastered to her side like that. Give us some room to work here.” She poked his ribs in a motherly way.

Now that Gavin was a few steps away, I was completely exposed.

My breath hissed in and out past the lump in my throat, and my arms instinctively crossed over my chest in a defensive position. I wanted this to stop. They had to stop looking at me like that, staring at every imperfection, judging me. It felt like unwanted hands on my skin. Goosebumps broke out over my arms.

“Honey, I’m going to need you to stand still and uncross your arms. How can I take measurements with you balled up like that?” Marion’s tone wasn’t harsh, but I flinched back anyway.

Apparently, Gavin was the only one who noticed my discomfort. “Sky, why don’t you go on ahead. I’m sure you want to grab fresh coffee before the table read. The rest of the tour can wait until later.”

I glanced over at her and caught a trace of amusement in her eyes. Amusement at my discomfort. Clearly, I was wrong about no one else having noticed. “Fine by me. Looks like Marion will be a while anyway. Hope she can find something that fits our new star so she doesn’t have to start from scratch.”

Something in the back of my mind told me that was probably a shot at my being a couple sizes bigger than her and Jenna, but I was so relieved to see her leaving that I didn’t care.

Once she was gone, Gavin closed the door and came over to me. “You good?”

My eyes burned as I offered a weak nod.

Shit, don’t cry. They’ll think you’re insane.

I hid my hands behind my back and started tapping my fingers to my thumbs, hoping neither of them saw it.

Frowning, Gavin turned to Marion. “Can we speed this up a little? She’s not used to being gawked at by strangers.”

Marion nodded. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.” She turned to me and patted my arm. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Once you settle in and we get to know each other, you won’t give any of this a second thought. Hell, the other girls change clothes in front of me all the time and let’s just say underwear isn’t always a factor.”

She thought she was being helpful, I knew that, but the scenario she described made me want to hurl.

“The guys are more bashful, of course. Except Michael. He’s a damn exhibitionist.” She turned to Gavin and shook her head, speaking to him. “He thinks it shocks me, but that’s virtually impossible after the shit I’ve seen over the years. I play along though, because it seems to make his day. Jenna walked in on him one morning, strutting around like a peacock with his pecker swinging in the breeze, and he didn’t even flinch. No shame, that one.”

Shit. People can just walk in while you’re dressing around here?

Breathe, Kaiti. Breathe.

“I heard about that.” Gavin smiled back at her before nodding in my direction. “Which is why I’m betting Kaiti here would prefer to have her wardrobe fittings in her dressing room once it’s finished. Am I right Kaiti?”

I could have fucking kissed him right then.

I almost did. Probably would have if Marion didn’t have a measuring tape wrapped around my thigh. Not only had he just set it up so that this could be as painless and private as possible, he’d effectively distracted me enough to get through Marion’s initial prodding.

Yep, really want to kiss him right now.

Not that I hadn’t already, but I really wanted to now.

A few minutes later, when the indignities were done and I was free to make my escape, Gavin sidled up next to me again and offered his arm. “You all right?”

I was still a little shaky, but I didn’t want to admit it so I said, “I am now. Thanks to you.” I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked the long hall on our way to my first ever table read. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stepped in. I was about to lose my shit.”

“I told you I had your back.” He stopped us and looked down at me. “There’s a lot of new stuff to wade through, especially today. If you get overwhelmed, let me know. It’s no big deal if you need a breather. We all have to call a time-out now and then, so don’t stress it. Okay?” He kissed the top of my head. It was a friendly, comforting gesture, but his lips lingered there a touch longer than necessary.

When he pulled back, he gave me that sexy-as-fuck wink of his and started walking again. Suddenly, I wasn’t at all nervous about the table read or the show or anything else.

All I was aware of was the slight warmth where his lips had been.

If he kept distracting me with moves like that, I might just be okay.

More than okay. Much, much more.

* * *

“Longest. Day. Ever,” I murmured as I searched for a vending machine on my way out the door. Gavin was only a few steps behind me and his responding chuckle caused me to flip him off over my shoulder.

“I warned you, new girl.” His tone was mocking. The crew hadn’t been quick to remember my name so half of them had referred to me as ‘new girl’ all day, saying it like they genuinely thought it was my name.

“Bite me, Hollywood.”

“No more Mister?”

I shook my head, making a beeline for the bank of vending machines by the elevators. “Nope. I’ve lost all respect for you today, so you’re just plain Hollywood now.”

“Your words have the power to wound, and you’ve cut me deep.” He was pouring on the sarcasm.

“Not my fault you flubbed your lines almost as much as me. So professional of you.”

I stopped at one of the machines and started plunking in quarters, not caring what it spat out as long as it was cold and loaded with caffeine.

Gavin moved to lean against the humming machine, tilting his body at an angle and smiling that damn radiant smile of his. “We all have off days; today was one of mine.”

I ignored him until half of my ice-cold beverage was consumed, then gave him my attention, squinting. “So, you’re trying to tell me it usually goes a lot smoother than that for you?”

“I rarely mess up. Sure, we all have those awkward moments where something in the script sounds dirtier than it’s meant to or a squeaky leather couch makes an unsavory noise and we all break character to laugh, but that’s about it.”

“Why today, then?” I felt my whole face flush as an idea hit me. “Oh shit, was I so bad it distracted you and made you mess up?” Dear Lord, kill me now.

“Of course not. You were great.” He stepped over and threw an arm around my shoulders, turning us toward the elevators. “I told you. It was just one of those days—no one’s fault but my own.”

He walked me to my car and held the door open as I folded myself into the seat with an exhausted groan.

“See you in the morning, Kaiti girl,” he said, mixing my actual name with part of my new nickname in a way that I really liked. Or maybe it was the way it sounded coming from him.

“Good night, Gavin. Thanks for making today as stress-free as possible. I don’t even want to think about how it would have gone without you looking out for me.”

“That’s what friends are for.” He closed the door with a soft click and turned to leave as I hurried to roll down the window.

“Hey, Hollywood?”

“Yeah?” He spun back to face me.

“Do friends also mess up their lines on purpose so their nervous, less-talented friend doesn’t feel like a dolt in front of everyone?”

He gave me a crooked smile. “Are you saying you messed up on purpose? For me?” He pointed to his chest. “Well, that was awfully sweet of you, Kaiti. Thanks for looking out.”

He walked away before I could respond.

* * *

I was wrong. Monday wasn’t the longest day ever. As it turned out, every day seemed to get progressively longer until I wasn’t sure what damn day it was at all.

The only good news was that I’d gotten more adept as the days went by, my movements were more fluid and my lines flowed well. I even managed to garner a few compliments from Bryce and the other producer, who rarely commented at all and whose name I still had a hard time remembering. Since people were still calling me ‘new girl,’ I felt little remorse for not knowing all their names.

Plus, if I had to squeeze one more bit of information into my already over-worked brain, I was pretty sure my head would split like a freaking melon hitting concrete.

Gavin’s performances were flawless after the first couple of days, where I swore he’d matched me screw up for screw up. Others noticed the trend and joked that he had the acting version of sympathy pains. Michael gave him hell about it for a day or two and then it sort of tapered off. The other actresses—how weird was it that I included myself in their grouping? —thought it was funny but didn’t tease as much as Michael, probably for fear of hurting my feelings. I mean, if he was getting teased about his mistakes, didn’t that mean I was just as bad, or worse?

Skylar made a couple of ambiguous comments that could have been aimed at me, but she played it off like they were shots at Gavin, who only flipped her off and kept working.

Thankfully, no one else seemed to be interested in pointing out my shortcomings, but I was trying exceptionally hard not to give them cause to ridicule. Skylar in particular. As the week dragged on, even she seemed too tired to care one way or the other how her fellow thespians were faring.

Each of the lead actors and actresses had their own dressing rooms that were decked out like efficiency apartments. Well, everyone except me, but they were working on mine. Not that anyone really spent that much time in their allotted rooms anyway, since Bryce tended to address us all in the communal lounge area—a space that had originally served as a huge hub of cubicles that now greatly resembled an expansive den, complete with overstuffed recliners and wide screen televisions.

Everyone sort of gravitated there between takes while the crews reset.

On-set shenanigans aside, it was a long exhausting, amazing week. I felt more and more like I’d made the right decision as the days wore on, and I was all but giddy with excitement when I thought about explaining it all to Evie when she got back. I asked Gavin if it would be okay for her to join me on the set for a visit—assuming I was still working here when she got back—and he said it could be arranged. He just had to schmooze Bryce a little. No big deal.

He was great like that, always quick to help.

He and I had taken to texting constantly in the spaces between scenes, a steady stream of memes and hilarious gifs intended to break the tension that often built up on set. A lot of it was decidedly flirty, from both sides, but we kept an outward air of friendship. It seemed easier to flirt over text than to actually verbalize it. I couldn’t remember who started it in that direction, but I convinced myself that it was Gavin because that made me happiest.

Occasionally, he managed to make me blush with the memes he sent, but the vast majority of them were funny, with a few sultry ones peppered in to keep the flirtation going.

We would sit on opposite sides of the communal lounge and watch each other try not to crack up at the pics and comments coming through on our phones.

Okay, it was a little immature, but things weren’t always exciting on set. Between shot blocking and switching backdrops, crews fluttered around at the speed of light, paying little attention to us as we waited for the stage to be set so we could do our thing. And after a while, I’d realized that I didn’t have that much in common with the other actors. All of them had grown up on sound stages and sets—except for Jenna, who had only been acting for five years after a long stint in modeling—so their stories and general way of life were so foreign to me that I felt like a total outsider when they all stood around chatting.

Gavin’s mask was firmly in place on the set, so he rarely joined in for those bullshitting sessions, preferring to hang out alone. It was odd seeing him so closed off and distant. I’d never witnessed that side of him, and it made me realize just how relaxed he was with me, how playful and happy. Not at all like Work Gavin, who was a ghost of the man I knew.

The others said he’d always been that way and attributed it to his process—needing time to himself to switch gears between scenes.

I’d initially given him his space until he started texting me insanely funny pics, after which I realized he didn’t prefer to be alone—he just didn’t want to hang out with the other people on the cast. I asked him once, in another of our covert texts, why that was and he’d said: There are only so many ‘I hate the paparazzi but I keep going out in short skirts with no underwear because it makes headlines’ stories I can take before I lose my shit.

I’d responded with, Oh, my god, it was Michael, wasn’t it? #freeballin

He’d been across the room when I sent that one and had laughed so loud everyone looked at him like he was crazy. He later told me that the Tom Petty song “Free Fallin'” had been stuck in his head all day after that, along with the disturbing image my text had conjured. I considered that a total win. He vowed revenge.

The rest of the cast seemed to adjust to my presence quickly. The other cast members—for the most part—and even the crew took me into the fold and treated me like an old friend. I liked Jenna a lot. When you could get her away from Skylar, she was hilarious, not to mention helpful. We weren’t close like I was with Gavin—he was the only one that I never wore a mask with—but it was still nice having another on-set friend, even with the masks.

The biggest area of tension I noticed on set was between Skylar and Michael, but even then, it was a passing jab—usually from Skylar. Maybe they’d dated in the past and had ended on bad terms or something. I wasn’t sure and didn’t ask. Either way, they always put it aside when working their scenes, and it was a great learning experience to watch them—all of them—interact in front of the camera.

It was fascinating.

Not as fascinating as my escalating relationship with Gavin, but still.

I was learning so much and with each passing day, I was finding it easier to be in front of the camera. Gavin had a lot to do with that. He could hone in on my moods better than anyone I knew—maybe even better than Evie—and call for a break any time he saw me stressing.

It was his nature to be protective and a part of me wanted to question it, figure out why he chose me of all people, but the rest of me—the majority—was so damn grateful for his help that the reasons why just didn’t matter.

He was exactly what I needed.

And everything I wanted.

From the way he was acting, I had to wonder if he wanted me too.

My heart raced every time I contemplated it, but in the most amazing way.

By Friday, things were flirtier than ever and I was so focused on the feeling of anticipation in my gut that I coasted right through my scenes with barely any awareness. I nailed each take and glowed under Gavin’s looks of approval between shots.

We worked late into the night but I was so energized that I barely noticed. Gavin, too, looked wide awake.

“Let’s hit the IHOP after we wrap for the day.” He threw an arm around me as we all stood around waiting for word that we could go. Someone somewhere was checking the dailies one last time to be sure we got everything.

“Hmm…pancakes do sound good,” I mused.

“You’re a star now, Kaiti-girl. Get fancy and order the French toast.” He tickled my side and ducked away when I tried to swat him.

He did that a lot, popping in to flirt and then darting away—I called it sneak flirting—but it was usually when we were out of sight of everyone else. This time, the whole cast was on deck but they were all too tired or distracted to notice.

Half an hour later, we were safely tucked into a booth in a practically empty IHOP near the set. The server—whose blush clearly announced that she recognized Gavin—seemed to understand when he asked for the most secluded spot in the place and gave us a table in a section that was cordoned off late at night.

It was quiet and private and perfect.

We ordered French toast—I got extra fancy with the bananas Foster—and coffee, not that we needed it to keep us awake since we were both practically bouncing in our seats with nervous energy.

As soon as our coffee arrived and the server stepped out of the room, Gavin flashed his sexy half smile and asked, “So, what’s your impression of this whole acting gig now that you’ve cleared your first week?”

I thought about it for a second as I tore open sugar packets, still not believing it had only been a week. “It’s really hard but also awesome as hell. I’ll admit, I never would have thought there would be so much down time. I kind of pictured this constant flurry of activity, being continually engaged, but that wasn’t the case.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of room for boredom, especially at that particular location. The dressing rooms are too small to really hang out in. No trailers to retreat to or other sound stages to check out. When we’re in Wilmington, it’s easier to keep busy—or at least find ways to avoid nodding off between scenes. There are lots of other shows you can check out. It’s really interesting. The sitcom sets are the best; the outtakes are usually funnier than the actual skits.” He chuckled softly. “My favorite, though, is when we shoot at Oak Island. It’s a stretch of private beach we use for Tyler’s surfing scenes or whatever they can squeeze into the storyline that gets us outside. Tia’s wedding was supposed to be there, you know, before they killed off her fiancé. The producers say outdoor shoots are important to make the show believable, which I guess is true. No one wants to see the same fake backdrops in every scene.”

I nodded. “Yeah, some of my favorite sitcoms used to use the same projected backdrop, with the same flock of birds flying through ten times a scene. It was funny after a while, and I found myself paying more attention to the stupid birds than the actors.”

“Been there,” he agreed. “So, how about the acting itself? Are you connecting with Meadow?”

I couldn’t help my grin. “Let’s see, a complete newbie who is thrust into a profession she barely understands and has no idea what the hell she’s doing? It’s a stretch but I think I can guess how she might feel.” I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

“Yeah, I think you probably relate to her pretty well. Maybe that was the whole point of having a new actor take on the role. It wouldn’t be the worst idea Bryce ever had, actually.” His lips pursed as he got lost in thought. “It’s kind of brilliant, if you think about it.”

“Because Meadow is supposed to come across as inept, like me?”

“No, new girl. I didn’t mean that. I meant the storyline and the ratings. We’ve been catching hell recently because there were no unknowns on the show, all seasoned actors like myself who just couldn’t manage to make the viewers empathize. I don’t know the full scale of what was said, but Bryce basically implied that no one believed any of us as vulnerable, whether because of our prior character arcs on Savages or our work on other projects. Hell, we’ve all had to scale back on our time in the makeup chair—a change I was thrilled about, by the way—because viewers are sick of seeing perfectly polished faces. They want to see us as flawed, real.”

“Like me?” I nodded to myself, knowing the answer before he even said it. “They wanted me as Meadow because I’m not the typical starlet type. I’m not particularly thin, not model beautiful, and not polished in the least.”

He started to shake his head. “Kaiti…”

“Stop. I’m not being harsh, I’m just aware of who and what I am. I’m fine with my weight, with having a cute-bordering-on-pretty face that won’t be on any magazine covers anytime soon, and most of all I’m perfectly content with being blunt and honest rather than kissing ass and playing games. I see no reason to be anything than what I’ve always been—me.”

He reached over and covered my hand with his. “I would never want you to be anything else because what you are…is amazing. You’re really killing it and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Bryce doesn’t dole out compliments often and you’ve gotten several this week.” His thumb lightly stroked the back of my hand and sent a crackle of awareness all the way up my arm.

Please don’t blush.

“I really am trying not to let anyone down.”

A line formed between his brows like I’d confused him. “Who would you possibly let down?”

I shrugged. “Bryce, for one. He really stuck his neck out, bringing in a newbie actor on such a hugely popular show. If I fail at this, he’s going to catch hell from the executives, right?”

Gavin waved it off. “He’s not afraid of them, trust me. And you’re not going to fail. You’re doing amazing work, sweetheart.” My heart fluttered at ‘sweetheart’ just as he squeezed my hand in encouragement. “Who else are you worried about failing?”

I dropped my gaze to our joined hands and muttered, “You.”

“Me? Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you. You’ve been so great to me, helping me, looking out for me. You have your own lines to read, your own process to go through, but you spent the whole week making sure I was okay. Making sure I was comfortable and asking for breaks whenever I started to lose my cool. I don’t want to screw up after all you’ve done to help me make it as Meadow. I know if I have to be replaced with someone more…familiar with the process, it will cause setbacks for everyone. I would hate to do that but I’d especially hate to do that to you. I owe you better than that.”

Gavin reached out with his free hand, placing it under my chin and gently nudging until I looked up. “You could never, ever disappoint me. I think you’re a fucking rock star. You’ve handled all this like a pro, and I am so damn proud of you.”

I tried to look away but he gripped my chin, holding me in place while he met my eye. “I’m helping you because I believe in you, not because it’s what’s best for the show. Don’t ever think otherwise. I like you, Kaiti. I like spending time with you. I like that you’re not pretentious and you keep the drama on the show and nowhere else. I like that we make each other laugh. You’ve made work fun again for me when I’d forgotten what it was to truly enjoy my job. You don’t owe me anything, Kaiti-girl. I owe you.” His gaze strayed to my mouth and his tongue swiped his lower lip. The air around us seemed to come alive, a crackle of anticipation was all around us like heat lightning.

He shifted in his seat as his thumb swept over my jawline. His gaze was intense, focused and hungry. My pulse buzzed in my ears, and my skin burned under his fingers. He started to lean across the table, rising slightly from his seat while his gaze stayed locked on mine. I could barely breathe, the anticipation growing with the passage of each excruciating second. My tongue flickered across my lips, wetting them in anticipation of his kiss.

This was it...

Just then, the server walked in with our food, effectively squashing the moment as Gavin dropped back down into the booth and offered her a polite smile.

He gave me a fond look as she placed the steaming plates in front of us but didn’t move to pick up where we’d left off once she was gone.

He looked a little disappointed though, which made me feel better because I was a lot disappointed.

After that, we got back to normal chatter, nothing heavy or overly flirty—though we did hold hands after we finished eating and continued to do so all the way to our cars. He didn’t kiss me when we parted ways, but I could have sworn the look on his face said he wanted to.

* * *

We spent the entire weekend texting, but didn’t see each other again until Monday. That week went much smoother than the last, with a lot more sneak-flirting added in. He constantly found reasons to touch me or sit next to me and I found myself gravitating toward him the few times he didn’t initiate it.

It was hard not to be obvious about it but we seemed to be pulling it off fairly well.

We went out for French toast again the next Friday and got the same table from the week before, but this time when I slid into the booth, Gavin slipped in beside me rather than sitting on the other side. We eventually shifted until we were so close that our bodies touched.

When our coffee was poured and our orders were placed, Gavin turned to me. “Another week in the books, Kaiti-girl.” He lifted his mug and I clinked mine against it in a toast.

“You know, I have to do something about my regular job soon. I’m almost out of vacation time and eventually, the ‘family emergency’ excuse isn’t gonna fly anymore. Even if it did, when my first episode aired, I’m pretty sure that would let the cat out of the bag in a big way.”

He threw his arm behind me on the back of the booth as he turned. “Do you want to keep that job? I mean, is it what you really want to be doing?”

“Assuming they don’t fire me for lying, you mean?”

He nodded.

“I guess so. I mean, Meadow could still be written out in the next few weeks—we don’t know yet. How can I give up my steady job that’s been paying the bills just fine for a maybe job that will probably fizzle out within the next year, tops?”

“That’s not what I asked you.” He grazed the back my neck with his knuckles, making me shiver. “Forget the show. If you knew for sure they’d write you out in a month, would you be disappointed when you rolled into that factory on your first day back?”

I scoffed, wiping at a spot on the table with my napkin, trying to ignore the heat I felt from where he was touching me. “I feel that way every time I go to that place, but it’s stable and their payroll checks don’t bounce, so I do my job and pay my bills. It’s not supposed to be a grand adventure. It’s just a job—a means to an end.”

“If you could do anything, have any job in the world, what would you want to do?” He was studying me again. I could feel the heat of his gaze on me as he spoke.

I thought about it for a minute and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Something I believe in, something that matters and accomplishes more than funding my electricity and grocery expenses.”

He nodded, not speaking, and I knew then that’d I’d be calling in my resignation on Monday. If they wrote me out of the show, I’d find something I could be proud of even if I had to live on Ramen and tap water while I searched. I’d survived on a hell of a lot less. But I was starting to hope that they’d keep me on as Meadow, which was dangerous.

The food came and we quietly ate, our sides touching. Occasionally, he’d lean harder against me, nudging until I looked up at him. Every time, I was rewarded with one of those dead-sexy winks that made my heart skip a beat.

He was so damned attractive I could hardly stand it.

Like the Friday before, we held hands and flirted but that was it.

Every time he touched me, my whole body heated in anticipation. It was driving me crazy, wondering when it was going to happen, wondering if it was going to happen. The buildup was killing me, which I think was why Gavin was holding out.

He seemed to like seeing me frustrated.

Damn tease.

* * *

The following Friday, after a long week spent shooting and flirting, we left the set at nearly four AM—which made it Saturday morning but the days ran together after a while. We’d decided to forego our usual early morning calorie fest in favor of desperately needed sleep. It wasn’t a decision either of us made lightly, though.

I was a disturbing mixture of tired and wired—the latter thanks to the double shot iced espressos one of the PAs had so thoughtfully procured for the entire cast.

Gavin appeared to be in the same boat, as he strode up behind me and threw an arm over my shoulder—one of my favorite Gavin-isms. “So, we’re off for a whopping fifty hours. What big plans does Kaiti-girl have for the rest of the weekend?” He sounded almost stoned, a by-product of the long days and massive caffeine consumption.

“Sleep is priority number one. And food, but only stuff I can have delivered and eat in bed.”

He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering as usual as we made our way to the parking garage—he walked me out every night. “Careful, you’re turning into one of those wild-child starlets the tabloids are always talking about.”

I shrugged as much as I could with him leaning on my shoulders. “I’m just me. You have to remember that my idea of a wild night is boozy ice cream and Netflix.”

“Sounds like heaven, Kaiti-girl,” he mused quietly.

“You’re welcome to come by for some delivery Chinese and binge-watching.” I didn’t know where it came from, the invitation just popped out, but I was glad when I saw his smile widen. He hadn’t been back to my apartment since that first weekend.

“Best offer I’ve had in ages. I’ll even bring ice cream for your boozy floats.” He squeezed my shoulder. “See you around six?”

“It’s a date,” I blurted automatically, then cringed. Shit.

He stopped me a few paces from our cars—which were parked side by side today—and did something incredibly unexpected.

He kissed me.

Not the top of the head we’re-just-friends kiss, either.

He leaned down, cupped my cheek with one warm hand, and pressed his impossibly soft lips to mine. Just for a second, just that one time, and just enough to make my whole body light up. Then he pulled back and waited for my eyes to open.

When I looked up at him, he smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “It’s a date, Kaiti-girl.”

I was still standing there with my hand to my chest and my heart in my throat when he drove away.

Holy shitballs!

I had a date with Gavin-damn-his-lips-are-soft-Lane!

* * *

Dear God,

Thanks for not hitting me with the previously requested lightning bolt. I would have hated to miss that kiss.

Amen.