Page 67 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

I can’t stop myself from resting my fingers his bare arm. “I didn’t mean to snap. I appreciate you sticking up for me, trying to keep me safe.”

The tension in his jaw melts away, and he smiles down at me. “Somebody has to, if you’re not going to take care of yourself.”

For a second, my brain tries to convince me there’s more than friendship in his eyes or in the way he rests his hand over the one I have on his arm, but I quickly shake off the thought.

“I just think…” I pull my hand from under his while I consider how to say what I have to. “We have to be careful about crossing any boundaries when we’re not on camera. Things could get blurry with us pretending to be in…” I swallow hard, pushing back the wordlove.“What I mean is, acting like we’re more than friends could lead to one of us thinking the other thinks it’s real.”

His brow creases, and he opens his mouth to say something but then runs his hand over his chin instead.

“You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” I hurriedly add, to keep any more awkwardness from settling between us. “I don’t want to do anything that could hurt our friendship.”

Zach licks his lower lip. Then he shoots me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Totally agree. Friendship off screen. Relationshipstrictlyon.”

“Exactly. Keep things professional on camera. We’re acting. That’s it.” I hate that I can’t stop myself from searching his face for some sign that he doesn’t want that any more than I do.

But his smile only grows, and he holds out his fist for me to bump. “Yep.”

“Yep.” I tap his knuckles lightly with my own.

“We’re ready to roll,” Ike calls, and Zach and I both take a step away from each other. “Quiet on the set!”

The green light on the camera goes on, and Ike motions for us to move closer together. I glance at Zach, then go into character.

That’s how I have to think about this. I’m playing a character. The Georgia who gets the guy of her dreams. The Georgia who’s just his type and doesn’t have any twenty-two-year-old, supermodel-esque competition. The Georgia whose heart isn’t about to get demoed into a million little pieces.The problem is, Zach gets into character too, and he’s really, really good at playing the part of a friend who wants to be more.

If our hands are close, he finds a way to brush his fingertips over mine, like he knows even the thought of his touch sends shivers across my whole body. When he stands near me, he finds a reason to rest his hand on my lower back. As low as he can go without making my show more PG than G rated.

At one point he’s so close that our foreheads are millimeters apart. If either of us turned at the same time, our lips would touch. We’d be kissing.

That thought takes center stage for most of the day. And I swear, Zach knows it because he keeps doing the same thing. Getting close enough to kiss me. Leaning in like he’s going to. Leaving behind his scent and the warmth of his touch when he doesn’t.

By the end of the day, I’m all keyed up. I don’t know if I can walk the short distance to my house. I’ve played down how much my ankle is bothering me, but now my legs are shaky. That’s Zach’s fault too, except not because I tripped over his shoes. And despite the temperature outside being in the low thirties, I’m hot enough that I could have a fever. Except my head doesn’t hurt.

In fact, I feel amazing. I’ve been on my feet all day, but so much energy still courses through my body, I could run a marathon. Not literally, because I hate running. And definitely not in these shoes. But in theory, I’m revved up enough to do it.

All because Zach is a pro at acting like he’s falling in love with me. I’m talking Oscar-worthy. So good he almost has me fooled.

I know he’s not.

Iknowit.

But my heart is a hopeless romantic. It doesn’t care about logic. It only cares about Zach. It goes into overdrive whenever he glances my way. It ignores the voice in my head that says Zach will never see me as more than a friend.

Chapter 28

Zach

I don’t know how Georgia turns off her “feelings” for me as soon as the camera goes off, but she does. Despite Monday’s very clear talk about boundaries, every day since I’ve found myself thinking that maybe she does feel what I do for her. Maybe when she touches me, she feels the same sparks I do. Maybe, like me, she thinks close is never close enough.

It feels that way when she leans into me, when her hand grazes mine, or she’s so close that her breath leaves a warm trail down my neck.

Then Ike calls it a day, and Georgia goes back to being my fist-bumping, mercilessly teasing best friend. And I remember that all of this is an act. Even worse than that, we’re both so tired at the end of our ten-to-twelve-hour days that we don’t have the time or energy to spend time together as friends.

By Friday, I’m so emotionally wrung out from five full days of acting like I’m pretending to fall in love with her that all I want to do is spend the weekend in front of the TV watching as much ESPN as possible. Doesn’t matter which sport it is—golf, bowling, whatever—I just need to care about something besides Georgia.

Unfortunately, Adam needs my help at the Garden tonight. The truth is, he’s needed my help for a long time but refused to ask for it. Now that he has, I won’t turn him down, even though I’m exhausted. Our relationship is finally getting back to normal, and I want to speed the process along.

I go straight from the set to the Garden, which, honestly, I would have done no matter what because I’m starving, and Adam usually tries out new recipes on Fridays. Whatever he’s making, I’m sampling. Especially because as soon as I walk into the restaurant, I’m hit by the smell of bacon.

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