Page 49 of Beyond the Bright Lights

Before his mouth can claim mine, my best friend is catapulting herself over the cliff’s edge, yelling 'cannonball!' as her only warning for us to move out of the way. She lands a few feet away, but the impact sends waves of water over us.

We laugh and when Ginger appears, we splash her furiously as payback.

I’ve missed this.

I didn’t realize how much I needed this.

But this is temporary.

It has to be, right?

Chapter 13 - Mylan

I wake, my stomach and face pleasantly sore from laughing and smiling too much at the lake yesterday. It’s the best feeling. Better than my stomach aching because I drank too much. Better than the queasy unsteadiness wrecking my body from whatever drug I swallowed or inhaled.

More than a week since I left rehab and not once have my bad habits called to me—aside from my slip-up that first night. I haven’t craved the burn of whiskey pouring down my throat or the frantic high from snorting lines of crushed opioids.

I’m happy, and it's because of her.

Redness singes my skin, despite putting on sunscreen. The mild sunburn should fade enough before filming begins a week from Monday. If not, the talented make-up team will be able to fix it. I hope.

We spent hours at the lake yesterday, jumping off the cliffs and swimming, eating sandwiches and snacking on chips, and drinking the soda Lana packed in a cute picnic basket. Afterwards, we stopped for ice cream then dropped Lana and Ginger off at Lilies, so they could work the Friday night shift.

I wanted to go inside with them, but if I did, Lana’s presence would have distracted me, and I still had a few lines I needed to work on. Not to mention, the accent needs polishing. I'm so nervous about doing it in front of her. She keeps asking me but I tell her it’s not ready every time. Then she rolls her beautiful hazel eyes at me, flashing me her bright smile. Her smile always makes my heart flutter like I'm some teenager with a crush.

Lana is letting her guard down. She’s letting me in. She’s finally letting herself live.

I can’t push her. I need to give her her space.

I roll out of the horrible hotel bed and take a piss before heading to the kitchen to make equally horrible hotel coffee. As the coffee brews, I take out my phone about to scroll through whatever headlines have been posted about me when there’s a knock at the door connecting my room with Bruno’s.

“Breakfast,” Bruno announces as he shoves his way into my room. He ignores my sleep rustled hair and naked torso—still in my boxer briefs since I’ve yet to shower and dress for the day—and sets down a recyclable takeout container on the small table. “I got you some bacon, muffins, and a yogurt from the continental breakfast downstairs.”

“Thank you,” I say through a yawn, returning to the kitchen.

I hand Bruno the coffee I made for myself, and he heads to the couch, turning on a morning news show. I make another cup and check the time on my phone while waiting. Barely ten a.m.

Once my cup is poured, I sit and eat, scrolling back through all the flirty text messages Lana sent me last night while she was working. I reread the last one from her before we wished each other a good night.

Lana: Thank you for making the jump with me.

“You letting Miss Lana grab you by the balls of your feet?” Bruno asks, clearly noticing me smiling like a fool at my damn phone.

“The saying is she’s got me by the balls.”

Bruno’s thick eyebrows pinch in confusion.

“She has me at her mercy,” I clarify.

His face lights up with amusement. “Does she?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

Eloise barges in, uninvited, and plops down in the only other chair at the table. She steals a piece of bacon then frowns because it’s probably cold bacon by now.

“What the hell? You have a key to my room?”

She ignores my question, while ignoring my tangled sleep hair. She also doesn’t react to my bare chest. She’s seen me far worse, naked on the floor, next to my own puke. Still, I’d have at least thrown on pants if I knew she had a key to my room and was going to show up whenever she wanted.

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