Page 91 of One Life to Loathe

“We’ll have to see how you pull off the scenes today.”

“No, you’re not leaving this room until you say I’m hotter than Edward the punk.”

“When did that become the rule?”

I threw myself on her and started tickling, loving the way she squealed and squirmed.

“Edward is hot,” she insisted. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’m not stopping until you tell the truth.”

We grappled for a few more seconds, things turning hot and sweaty, and when we were face to face, I lost my breath. The sweetest moments of my entire life had been spent with Sam. Everything she did made me adore her even more. That included the sparkly vampire admission. I would’ve been perfectly happy to hole up with her in this room forever.

That’s not reality,I reminded myself. I knew that, though. There was a timeclock on this relationship, and it was getting painful. I found myself coming up with ways to extend our time … including reshoots. What if the show wasn’t a success? What if I didn’t get the movie? I could always stay in Salem with Sam until I figured out my next move. Maybe I would be forced to stay on the show. Would that be so horrible?

That wasn’t the plan,my inner voice whispered.Why aren’t you sticking to the plan?

In truth, the plan didn’t sound as appealing as it had almost a month before. When I first arrived in Salem, I couldn’t wait to make my escape. Now, though, it was starting to feel like home.

I knew some of the people I saw on the street when getting coffee. I even waved and smiled at them. I knew the bartenders at the bars the locals frequented. More importantly, they knew me … and didn’t scowl when they saw me. The air was crisp. The houses Sam was so in love with, the ones that looked two hundred years old, were starting to be appealing.

I didn’t even recognize myself, and that was almost as frightening as admitting the truth. I was falling for Sam. Heck, I’d already fallen. Every day I was sliding more and more into bliss. This wasn’t the life for me, though. I wasn’t the sort of person who could be happy. I needed to stop falling and start thinking, because I would have some decisions to make … and sooner rather than later.

Perhaps sensing that I’d slipped into deep thoughts, Sam flopped back on the bed and studied my face. “Have you heard about your audition yet?”

I shook my head and pulled away from her. I needed to insert some distance between us, at least for a few minutes. Her pull, the need to be lost in her, became overwhelming sometimes. It was only when I was away from her that my mind cleared these days. It was only then that I could remember “the plan” and push myself to look at a future that didn’t include her.

“You shouldn’t get down on yourself,” she chided as she rolled out of bed and started rooting around on the floor for her clothes. “It hasn’t even been a full week.”

“In two days it will be.”

“Yeah, but sometimes it takes weeks for them to make decisions.” Sam’s expression was hard to read when she turned to me. “You know that. I have faith in you. You’re going to get it.”

That hurt more than the notion I wouldn’t get it. Because, if I did, filming was set to start within weeks. That had been made clear at the audition. At most, once the filming onEvermorewas finished, I would have a week before I had to head to Nevada. Our first scenes on the movie were scheduled to be filmed in the desert.

“I’m not thinking about it too much,” I said. “I’ll know when I know.” I forced a smile for her benefit. “Today I’m focused on my secret coming out.”

“You have to wear the fangs.”

I frowned. “I hate the fangs.” So far, I’d only had to wear them for one scene. I’d taken out a man who had been following her character. He was going to try to force himself on her, but I stepped in and saved her. Sure, it was an overblown scene that was filled to the brim with cheesy angst, but I’d relished playing it out. I wanted to be the one keeping her safe.

“I can see where you would hate the fangs,” she acknowledged. “The first time you wore them they made you drool.”

“That was you.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, that was the corniest thing you’ve ever said.”

“And I stand by it. That was totally you.”

“Oh, whatever.” She burst out laughing. “You’re hilarious when you want to be.”

“Maybe I should try comedies.”

“You would be good in comedies.” She didn’t bother pulling on her shoes. “I need to hit the shower. Are you going downstairs for breakfast when you’re ready?”

She never came out and asked if I wanted to have breakfast with her. We ate together often, pretending all the while we weren’t sleeping with one another and instead just plotting out our scenes. It made for a cozy, if innocuous, scene. She always framed it around what I was doing, though.

“I am,” I confirmed. “I’m having breakfast with you.”

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