Page 62 of Nothing Like the Movies

His gaze was backyard bonfires and late-night phone calls and cross-country road trips that led to hotel rooms with soft sheets and cool, heavy comforters.

“Sad Songs in a Hotel Room” started in my head as I clenched my fists.

He had no right to look at me that way anymore.

“So,” I continued, hitting the syllable a little loudly as I forced myself to keep going, to look away from something that he’d destroyed a long time ago. I chose to look at my fingernails when I said, “I guess text me your availability, and I’ll let you know when and where.”

“Is your boyfriend going to be there?”

“Who, Clark?” I asked, looking up, then wanted to kick myself becausewho else would he be referring to, dumbass?

“Do you have other boyfriends at the moment, Buxbaum?” His eyes were a little squinty, like he was amused by my obvious discomfort. “A harem of giant blond cameramen?”

“Funny,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.

“I was surprised he was your errand boy on Saturday.” He was watching me that way again when he said, “Really interesting relationship dynamic, by the way, having him pass notes to your ex.”

“It isn’t. At all,” I said, instantly regretting the defensiveness in my voice because the Wes Bennett of my childhood lived for thatreaction. I tucked my hair behind my ears and said, “I mean, I don’t even think he considers you my ex because he knows it was just a few forgettable months when I was a teenager.”

“Did you know that you always swallow after you tell a lie, Libby?” He tilted his head and his mouth slid into a slow, wide smirk that was such a throwback that I felt it in my toes. “You say the untruth, then immediately swallow and push your hair behind your ears. It’s the same tell you had when you were eight years old.”

I rolled my eyes again, forcing myself not to mess with my hair. I wanted to say something biting, something that would hurt him, but I still needed his help. So I just said, “Okay.”

Which was so unfair; I hated that.

I also hated that he was seeing my cheeks get red.

“Okay.” His smile went away, but the light was still in his eyes when he said, “And yes—I’ll text you my schedule.”

“Thank you,” I said, unsure how to behave when he was giving me what I wanted while also kind of being an asshole. “I really appreciate this.”

“No problem,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “As long as it’s you, not Lilith.”

“So we have a deal?” I asked, needing confirmation.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his dirty half smile returning. “Did you want to shake on it? Or… something else?”

My cheeks caught fire and my mouth kind of fell open for a second, momentarily incapacitated and unable to come up with a single word of response.

Which made him say, oh so quietly, “There she is.”

“What? Who?”

“Little Liz.”

Before I could respond, he turned and started jogging up the steps, but not before I saw his grin.

It wasn’t fair, the way he still managed to get the last word. It was irritating as hell, and it annoyed me the entire trek back to Morgan. I didn’t see the green trees or yellow flowers as I marched across campus, because in my brain, I kept seeing his dickish smirk and hearing his deep voice sayingthere she is—Little Liz.

But the irritation dissolved the minute I stepped into Lilith’s office and gave her the news.

“That’s wonderful!” she said, looking like perfection in her white button-down, man’s necktie, black cigarette pants, and perfectly tailored pink wool blazer. She was standing in front of her brainstorming glass dry-erase board, scrawling illegible notes that only she could read when she added, “I don’t care who asks the questions as long as I get to write them and edit the film. Thank you, Liz.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, relieved Wes’s condition wasn’t a dealbreaker for Lilith.

“I’ve already drafted the interview, so I’ll just send you the questions. I’ve got a direction in mind,” she said, pushing up her black glasses, “so even though some of the inquiries might seem irrelevant, you’ll have to trust me that they’re leading somewhere.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding, entirely confident she knew what she was doing.

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