Two weeks after we had sex in the trailer, I’ve lost count of how many illicit trysts we’ve had. To be fair, there may be no way of counting the infinite ways we’ve discovered to please each other. Or how many ways I’ve made her come. I have a key to her room. She has a key to mine. We’re all in on this method-acting thing.

The only way I know I’m actually in Canada is from the address on the bottom of the hotel stationery that I like to scribble dirty notes on for her to find. I certainly haven’t seen anyone or anything but her. The whole closed-set plan has been more of a relief than I’d figured it would be. Not only has it given Jenna and I the freedom to sneak around without anyone noticing, but it’s given me a break from the papz. I hadn’t realized how much a part of my life flashbulbs were until they were gone.

Comparatively, the occasional guest asking for a selfie as I cross the lobby coming or going from the set is no big deal.

I’ve been in Hollywood for so long, it’s almost a shock to realize how normal people live.

Meanwhile, while we’ve fucked each other blind off-set, Jenna had the idea that we should be a little distant to each other when on set, to throw people off. She’s curt but professional with me; I’m nice but not overly attentive to her. It’s supposed to seem like we got off to a rocky start with that first fight scene where Jenna almost decked me in the face, and though we worked it out and are back on track, we haven’t become the best of friends.

Jenna named it Operation Trailer Trash, in reference to our little sex den. But she can’t say it without laughing, and I can’t hear it without getting a semi.

All of which is to say that, for the first time since this whole crazy fling started, I’m dreading walking into Jenna’s room.

She’s waiting for me on the bed when I swipe my card over the electronic sensor, wearing nothing but a gorgeous pink nightie-thing that shows off her creamy breasts to absolute perfection. She kills me with how sexy she is. I have an instant hard on, and I dive for her, knocking her over in a heap of giggles and kisses.

“So I was talking to Angela—” That’s all I get out before she’s pushing me off and straightening her nightie.

“No.”

Yeah, that’s the reaction I was expecting.

“You haven’t even heard what I’m going to say yet!” I protest anyway, trying to get my hands back on those perfect tits.

“It’s no no matter what!” she says. “Why were you talking to her, anyway? I thought we agreed she’s a shit-stirrer.” She pouts prettily at me, folding her arms across my intended targets.

“Because no matter what we do agree on—and, yes, she’s totally into drama—the studio hired her for a reason. Jenna, we’ve gotten a lot of leeway here with the closed set and shooting outside the States. But we have to make an occasional appearance. We both know the only reason this movie is getting the push it is, is because of us.”

She stares at me for a second, and then closes her eyes in resignation and lets her hands fall. Finally. I replace them with my own, and gently knead her breasts until she’s pressing into me and ready to listen.

“I know you said you didn’t want to go to this thing tonight. But it’s just a party. And it’s a surprise for Polly’s birthday. If we say don’t go, we look like assholes, and it’s even more obvious something’s going on when we’re the only two who don’t show.” Her mouth opens as if to protest, and I catch her off guard, sliding my first finger inside before she can say anything.

She sucks on it as I pull it out slowly. Goddamn, that sends shocks straight to my dick.

“I guess if it’s for Polly, we have to go,” she says, her eyes on my now wet finger. “I just don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be normal with yo-oh!” She breaks off with a squeal as the finger I’ve just pulled from her mouth finds another warm hole to slide into.

“I thought maybe an orgasm for you before, and then one for me after?” I make my most serious face at her, as though this is a scientific endeavor. She bites her lip to hide a smile.

“Maybe I could act normally then,” she pants as I drag my finger out.

“But not now.” I add another finger and push back in.

“Not now.” Her hips slide lower on the bed, closer to me, as the pink silk rides up.

“We’ll ignore each other all night. I won’t tell anyone about how much I love eating your pussy.” I grab her hips with both hands and pull her the rest of the way to my waiting mouth.

“We’ll… fuck… flirt with other people.” Her hands tangle in my hair as I fuck her with my tongue. “And I won’t think about how hard you just… made me… come!” She ends with a trembling groan as I ride her climax out, suddenly more excited about the party than before, knowing that my turn awaits at the end.

She takes just long enough getting ready that my hard-on has calmed down when it’s time to walk through the lobby and out to the limo the studio ordered, but when she bends over to climb into the car and I can see straight up her dress to the little black thong she’s chosen, I realize I’ll be fighting this battle all night.

In front of the swanky hotel hosting the party, I make a show of chivalrously helping Jenna from the limo, and we pose for a few extremely formal pictures.

“No touching,” she murmurs to me, and somehow I manage to keep my hands to myself.

Once we get to the rooftop lounge and part ways, I expect everything to relax. Sure there are quite a few strangers here, but it’s mostly industry people. I toss off a wave at Micah Preston, an actor I’ve worked and partied with, who’s dancing with his girlfriend Maddie Bauer, a new up and coming director I’m dying to work with. Since they’re between me and the bar, I cut in just for a minute, swinging Maddie close to tell her how impressed I was with her debut film last year, before swinging her back over to her man.

As I make my way off the floor, I catch Jenna’s eyes for the barest second before she turns in one smooth move to grab a glass of champagne from a passing tray and the arm of a girl I’m pretty sure I’ve seen in toothpaste commercials.

Now they’re the ones between me and the bar, so I give her ass the merest brush as I walk by in search of a top-shelf tequila. I’ve hardly even begun to examine the choices on the neon-lit glass shelves behind the bar top before I sense someone next to me. Someone who smells like orange blossoms. I start to look over but she hisses at me.

“Don’t look.”

I can’t help but laugh. Naturally, the bartender chooses to serve her even though I was there first. I can’t blame him, although the way his eyes linger on her boobs makes me want to punch him in the nuts, but I count to ten under my breath and let it slide.

I let Jenna order lemon drop shots for her and Toothpaste before asking, “Why aren’t we looking at each other?”

“This place is crawling with gossips,” she stage-whispers back, still staring straight ahead. “Including professional gossips. Angela invited the press team. You need to cool it, Tanner. No grab-ass.”

“I like grab-ass,” I tell the bartender, since I can’t look at her.

“Me too, man,” he says.

“Uh..cool. I’ll have a Sauza 901, chilled.” I slip him enough cash to cover all the drinks plus a large enough tip that he’s probably thinking I want to play grab-ass with him.

“Save it for the chick on the dance floor, then,” Jenna says as she slides her shots off the bar and walks off without so much as a backward glance. I know, because my head whips toward her at that remark.

Is she… jealous? Of Maddie Bauer?

Interesting.

I say cheers to the bartender and take my drink in the opposite direction of where Jenna just walked off. There really isn’t much over here but the pool, and the night’s still a bit too young for anyone to be hopping in to splash in their underthings. I fold myself onto a couch that’s made for smaller people than me and cross an ankle over my knee. There’s a chill to the breeze up here that’s a nice contrast to the warmth burning down my throat from the tequila.

“Tanner James. I thought I saw you walk out here,” comes a woman’s flirtatious voice from over my shoulder. I brace, expecting Angela to be lurking behind me, but I’m pleasantly surprised to see Amber Jacobs instead.

Amber is one of the only female sound engineers I know, and a total badass. She’s petite enough to fool people who don’t know her into complacency, but I’ve seen her reduce grown men to tears on more than one set. Hollywood is a very small town, so I’ve had the pleasure of working with her on a number of films. It was a happy surprise to see her on the list for Reason To Love.

“Why’s the star of the show sitting alone?” Amber asks as she makes her way over to me.

“Just taking in a view of my whole kingdom,” I say, expansively indicating the empty pool with a wave of my arm.

“Your kingdom’s waiting inside to yell surprise to the queen.”

I half-stand to go inside and join them, but I won’t be missed in there, and I’d rather chat out here where I can hear myself think than inside where the EDM beats are pumping. In that brief motion, though, I see that Jenna and Toothpaste have been joined by an older guy. I’m pretty sure he’s one of the execs from Three Spots, the guys financing our movie.

Oh, good, I think, she can schmooze while I enjoy myself.

“Keep the king company?” I ask Amber.

She sits down next to me and clinks my glass with her own. I notice her drink immediately, because she must be the only woman here without either champagne or a vodka soda.

“Whiskey?” I ask, impressed.

“Bourbon. I’m a Kentucky girl, originally.” She flips her red hair over one shoulder, in a gesture I’ve noticed often accompanies the prideful statement of a born-and-bred southerner.

“No kidding. I just got back from Louisville a couple months ago. We shot The Bridge there.”

“Oh, right. I went up for that job but didn’t get it. I was dying to shoot back near my hometown. My parents would have gotten such a kick out of it.”

“Well you should have called me. I would have used my kingly powers to make them hire you.”

“If only I’d had your number.”

I startle. Is Amber flirting with me? When I look at her again, she gives me a huge wink and grin that tells me she’s fucking with me, and that she’s very aware of my reaction.

I shoot a glance in Jenna’s direction. She’s staring but quickly turns back toward Richard Thurgood. I notice her friend is gone, and it’s just the two of them now. I narrow my eyes, but it isn’t my business. We’re meant to be flirting with other people, after all, and the more time she spends flattering the bigwigs, the less time I have to.

As long as flattering is all it is.

“So what do you think of the shoot so far?” I ask Amber, politely trying to keep the conversation flowing while also keeping one eye pinned on Jenna.

“Best crew I’ve had all year. Polly Kemper runs a tight fucking ship. Jenna Stahl is the one that’s really blowing me away, though.”

“Jenna?” At her name, I turn my full attention back to Amber.

“Yeah. She’s good. It’s a cool feeling to realize you’re one of the first people to see a performance that everyone will be talking about. Like, not only is she spot on in the dramatic bits, her comedic timing is way better than yours. No offense. But really, who knew models could be funny?” She takes another swig of her bourbon and side-eyes me.

A chorus of surprise! announces Polly’s arrival inside. I wait until it dies down before I answer Amber’s question, even though it was most likely asked rhetorically. “I knew.”  

It takes a second before Amber remembers what she’d asked. I see it in her expression when it clicks. “You knew about her acting or her humor?”

“Both. I always knew she had the chops. It’s exciting to see it all come together for her.”

“And do you know how nice she is to the crew?” she asks, tossing her hair again.

“I know,” I say simply.

“And do you know how good her ass looks in that dress tonight?”

“Oh, I fucking know,” I moan before catching myself.

Amber laughs out loud and claps, and my hand makes a little cut it motion at her.

But I do grin. Amber deserves kudos for that move.

My gaze flicks back to Jenna who is no longer pretending to listen to the man in front of her. Instead she’s just staring at me. Me and Amber.

She’s so jealous.

My grin widens.

Then Thurgood snatches her attention by grabbing her chin and moving it back to him, and my grin immediately turns into a clenched jaw.

“Any idea where she got that dress? It’s so cute.”

It takes effort to refocus on Amber, but somehow I manage. “I’m not sure, but I’ll ask her,” I say with gritted teeth.

Amber wraps a curl around her finger. “You don’t have to. Just tell me what it says on the tag.”

And then I don’t have to force the focus at all, because Amber is 100% insinuating I have access to Jenna’s wardrobe, and not the one on set, either.

I start to panic as I down the remainder of my drink.

“Oh. Looks like I can ask her myself,” Amber says.

That’s when I see Jenna walking directly toward our couch. This is bad. Very, very bad. The second Amber turns her laser-focused interrogation on Jenna, she’ll suspect that I’ve been telling tales outside of school.

“Hey guys,” Jenna says with a smile that’s pure acting. “Must be an interesting conversation, since you missed the surprise part of the surprise party.”

“Very interesting,” Amber says slyly. “I was just asking Tanner—”

I cut her off sharply by holding up my glass.

“And that was very rude of us. I should say hello and get a refill, care to accompany me?” It’s hardly a question, since I’ve already firmly fastened my arm around Jenna’s.

She glares down at the link between us like she’s going to pull away, but then Amber speaks. “Tanner, we should definitely catch up again soon.”

That’s all it takes for Jenna to tighten her arm in mine and start turning us away. I don’t miss the redhead’s eyes on us the whole time.

“Sure. Watch the kingdom while I’m gone.”

She’s cackling to herself as I rush Jenna away.

“Your kingdom?” Jenna quips once we’re out of Amber’s earshot.

“Inside joke,” I say, which is rude, because I know it will piss her off. But I’d rather have her jealous than freaking out about what people suspect or know about the two of us.

Jenna starts to walk me over to a little banquet, but I pause at the bar, holding my empty glass up toward my new friend the bartender. At least he only touched my girl with his eyes.

“Should we maybe pop down here?” she says gesturing to the seats she’d been leading me toward, and, from the tone of her voice, it’s more of an order than a suggestion.

“Sure…okay.” So much for going to find Polly, but whatever’s on Jenna’s mind is better out than in. Her expression is cold and distant, like she’s about to tell me off. At least that’s progress from past conflicts where she’d usually just avoid me altogether.

Without getting a refill, I follow her to the side of the lounge. We slide into the booth despite the fact that—what feels like—a thousand people are watching. Including, as she herself told me, half of IK PR. If Jenna is going to make a scene, this is about the worst possible spot in the whole bar.

But, though a scene is what I expect, a scene is not what I get.

“How’s your night going?” she asks instead.

“Um…fine.” I’m confused. “You?”

“Okay. It’s loud here.”

That’s when it hits me—Jenna has no real agenda. She’s not about to ream me out for flirting with Amber. She’s not even questioning me about it. She’s avoiding the conflict entirely. Just like Old Jenna did.

But I have no patience for that anymore.

“What are you really thinking right now?” I ask, leaning in so she’ll feel a little bit pressured. “Why are we over here?”

I can tell Jenna’s surprised that I’m being so direct. Good. Maybe it will push her to be a little more honest, too.

“Nothing! No reason,” she says, trying to be nonchalant. “I just. You know. What do you, uh, think about that bartender’s mustache?”

“Forgettable. Don’t lie to me, Jenna. That’s not why you brought me here. Are you mad at me?” I pause. “Are you jealous?”

“No!” she snaps, quickly. Too quickly. “I’m not jealous. I mean, I was. But then Richard Thurgood...”

The second his name is out of her mouth, I’m on high alert, attuned to her like a guard dog. I didn’t like that hand on her chin one bit.

“What did he do?” I growl, moving closer to her, my protective instincts taking over from my conscious knowledge that I shouldn’t be so close to her.

“Offered to make me a star,” she says mockingly. “I mean, I’ve heard that kind of shit before, but I guess I was just naive, thinking that once I landed this role, men would stop asking me if I wanted to fuck them for one.”

The moment Jenna tells me what Richard Thurgood said, I see red.

Then we both see white. A flash of light. The flash from a camera.

Fuck.

“Cast album!” some youthful intern I’ve seen around set says with a way-too-perky smile. “Can I get one of you two looking a little less intense?”

“No fucking pictures!” I bark back. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Oh… sorry… I just thought, like… I mean you two are the whole movie...”

She trails off, and I feel incredibly guilty. I’ve officially terrified a totally harmless intern. And for what? Doing her job?

I run a hand through my hair and take a breath to cool down. “No, it’s not your fault. It’s just that this isn’t really a good time. We’ll come find you later, okay?”

“I totally get it Mr. James. I’ll delete the picture right now,” she says, fumbling with her camera.

“Call me Tanner.  I didn’t mean to flip on you. I’m just—”

But she’s gone before I finish what I was saying. I’ll have to smooth that over later, but for now my only concern is Jenna.

“So he propositioned you?” I ask, wanting to have a very clear picture of the reason I plan to be facing assault charges tonight. My fists are already clenching.

“He—yeah, but you know what? It doesn’t matter.” I can see her shutting down.

“It does matter. I know you don’t like conflict, but this guy needs a throat-punch for saying shit like that to you.” I can’t just let her back down on him. I know her. It’s going to weigh on her. It should weigh on her. I know that kind of fuckery goes on all the time in show biz but it’s bullshit.

It’s not going to happen on a movie I’m producing. Not with a partner I’m working with. And I’m sure as shit not going to let it happen to Jenna Stahl.

I’m half out of my seat, but Jenna tugs me back down. “Look, Tanner. Stop,” she says insistently.

I pull my arm away in a huff but I stay seated.

She goes on. “If you go over there acting all alpha-male on him, it’s just going to start the rumors.”

I think guiltily of Amber. How many rumors did that conversation start?

“Besides. I told him I’d call his mother personally the next time I heard him speaking that way to a woman. And then I pulled out my phone and showed him her number. She gave it to me at a party in Milan a few years back.”

It takes a moment to digest this but when I do, I laugh. Heartily. New Jenna for the win. Hedda Thurgood is an Old Hollywood legend known for both her fashion and for biting off more heads than Amber could ever dream of.

And speaking of.

“You were jealous, though?” It gives me such perverse satisfaction.

“Only for a second.”

“Just one second?” I know she’s lying. I saw how many times she looked over at the two of us on that couch.

“Aren’t we supposed to be fucking right now?”

As far as subject changes go, it couldn’t be more obvious, but goddamn was I glad to hear it.