Page 54 of The Fake Script

I chuckle, snatching the remote and sinking into the two-seater couch in the living room section of the suite. There’s no way we’re watching this movie in bed. When I scroll through the catalog, I stop when I see Auston’s face. My lips twitch. Okay, maybe watching a moviecouldbe fun.

I select the movie and press pause, glad that the title doesn’t show on the screen. Better if it’s a surprise.

A few minutes later, Auston returns with a small bag full of snacks.

I arch an eyebrow. “Did you robthe vending machine or something?”

“Hey, I worked all day. You can’t blame me for being hungry.”

I laugh as he sits down next to me. As he gets comfortable, he asks, “What movie did you choose?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, feigning ignorance. “Just something that sounded interesting.”

I start the movie, and he plunges his hand into the snack bag, unwrapping a KitKat bar. My heart swells when I see it.

He breaks it in two and offers me half. “Just like old times,” he says.

I bite my bottom lip. “You remember?”

“Of course I do.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds, and he cocks his head to the side, probably wondering if I’m going to take the chocolate or not. I grab it from his hand and bite into it. It’s so good. So crunchy and sweet. Now I remember why I always loved them so much. “Wow. I haven’t had a KitKat in years.”

“Really? I get them all the time. Hands down my favorite snack.” He winks, and I reluctantly direct my attention to the screen. I can feel Auston’s body heat radiating beside me, which isn’t helping with the feverish state that has plagued me since this morning. Still, it’s a good kind of warmth, reassuring. Wait, no. I should really scoot over. I try to move away, but I’m already at the end of the couch. If I scoot any more, I’ll be on the floor.

The opening credits are done, and a guy is now walking, his back to the camera. Not just any guy, though. I’d recognize that hair and those broad shoulders anywhere.

“Oh, no no no!” Auston says, throwing the snacks on the table and fumbling for the remote. “We’re not watching that.”

“Why not? You wanted a movie. This fits the criteria,” I say as I eat the rest of my KitKat, a smirk on my lips.

“Emma, please. Turn it off.” He finally spots the remote on my armrest and tries to make a grab for it, but I’m faster. He’s now fighting me for the remote. Luckily, I have the upper hand. He’s in an awkward position, halfway hovering over me while simultaneously trying not to touch me. Suddenly, our faces are close, just a few inches separating us. His lips are nearly touching mine, his eyes holding me captive. That’s it, I need a distraction. Anything to keep me from kissing this man, here and now.

“Oh, look!” I shout. “There you are.” Of course the only thing capable of distracting me from Auston is Auston—in a white lab coat, no less. “Oh, I love that look! Very McDreamy,” I say, glancing at Real Auston, who’s now seated next to me again. But he’scovering his face with his hands.

“Please,” he begs.

On the screen, Doctor Auston leads a pretty girl into an empty exam room, and they start kissing. He shrugs his coat off, and—okay. That’s enough. I grab the remote and turn the TV off.

“Thank you,” he breathes, his hands falling.

“What was that all about?” His reaction was almost as bad as me on the beach earlier.

“I never, ever, everwatch my own movies.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of ‘ever.’ Why, though? Isn’t the whole point to see the final product?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. That’s the director's job. I just act how I’m told to and call it a day.”

I shake my head. “But that’s crazy. Don’t you want to see how you did? And what about the premieres? Thosearefirst screenings, right? You don’t have a choice there.”

He chuckles. “Like I said, never,ever. When I’m at a premiere, I usually hide in another room until the movie is over.”

My jaw drops. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah. When I was first starting out, I used to watch the episodes I was shooting, but I hated it so much. Every second was torture, so I decided tostop. It’s better for my sanity that way. And believe it or not, a lot of actors—if not most—don’t watch their own movies. We take a long time filming them. We live the movie for so long, by the end, we know them by heart anyway. Plus, as I said, it’s way too weird and painful.”

I cough out a small laugh. “Fine. I get it, I guess.”

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