Page 45 of Faking It

“Whatever.” She gently pulls her hand from mine as we leave the busy hip strip, making our way back to the studio. “Bottom line, I’m sure you’re dying for this cockblocking to be over.”

The answer should be an easy yes since I haven’t been laid in weeks.

But as we enter the studio grounds, her body bouncing mine as we walk closely together, it hits me that I haven’t had the urge for another one-night stand since meeting Ana.

Chapter 16

Gideon

“Holy shit, it’s hot,” mutters our villain Zane Sanders as he drops in the chair beside me.

“Tell me about it,” I mumble in reply, shifting my gaze from the action outside our tent. Death Valley in September is still sweltering, but it’s the perfect location for the scenes we’re shooting today.

Zane kicks off his boots, then swipes his blond hair in a ponytail that mirrors mine. “She makes one heck of a heroine, don’t you think?”

He juts his chin, admiration in his eyes. “I didn’t expect she’d keep up during that duel scene, but damn… she gave me a run for my money.”

I look back at the woman standing by the cactus, her stance wide, a prop gun clutched in her right hand, and a fierce determination on her face as she waits for her cue. Admiration flows through me, too. Zane’s not the only one surprised by Ana’s talent. Our read-throughs did no justice to her, at all.

It’s been two weeks since we began filming, and she impresses me more each day. Taking her basic combat training seriously, showing up for work before most of us, knowing all her lines, often getting things right within two or three takes… she’s phenomenal. Jared was right back then. She’s made for this role.

My fingers tap the arm of my chair as I watch her get into action. She drops in a crouch, the gun held at the right angle, just like the trainer taught her. Dust swirls around her, the desert heat dampening her shirt, pressing the fabric to her body. She’s wearing loose combat pants and boots that dwarf her petite frame. Watching her, all I can think is that she looks so sexy to me.

Once again, I remind myself that I can’t dwell on thoughts like this. I can’t get carried away by my attraction to Ana. That entire week we spent learning our lines proved that fact. She might be uptight, her reactions to me going from hot to cold in a heartbeat, but she’s a decent person. Too good for an asshole like me. Ruining our arrangement over sex isn’t a worthwhile trade-off. Saving my home and getting rid of my dad is so much more important.

“Seriously, dude. If you guys weren’t an item, I swear I’d make my move.”

I swear I just got whiplash from how quickly my head snaps around. I scowl at Zane. “The fuck did you say?”

“Relax.” He chuckles. “I said,if. And I’m only being honest. I’ve never had a woman stimulate my brain like that.”

Yeah, I bet your brain’s not the only thing she’s stimulating.Dickhead.

I wasn’t enthused by Aunts Cheryl’s announcement that we’d shoot Zane and Ana’s scenes first, not when I’m forced to endure their bonding, not when she spent the last two weeks barely exchanging a word with me. Granted, we weren’t often in the same space together, but when we were, she only spared me a quick hug and a cheek peck, just enough to keep the ruse alive.

There’s no reason for my irritation, but I am. Her indifference affects me. For some reason, she can’t stand me, and I don’t understand. I might be an asshole, but I’ve been nothing but nice to her since we met.

“Hey… easy with that scowl, man. I’m sorry if I offended you. Besides, Ana is not into me like that,” Zane assures.

A bursting sensation goes off inside me, something like jubilation mixed with relief. Inside, it’s like there’s a party going on. Outside, I nod calmly. “It’s all good, Zane.”

The assistant director yells ‘cut’, and Ana immediately staggers toward the tent. Her damp hair hangs loosely on her shoulders, with several strands sticking to her sweaty face. With a weary sigh, she drops into the seat on my right.

“I pray to god they got everything,” she whispers, throwing her head back. “I’m fricking melting out there.”

“Here.” I pat her knees, and when she stares at me enquiringly, I point to her foot. “Let me have it.”

“Have what?”

“Your foot. I want to take your boots off. You need to cool down, Princess.”

Her forehead creases with a frown, and her teeth clamp down on her lower lip, like she’s biting back a retort. Finally, she smiles, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks, babe,” she replies, throwing up her foot on my thigh.

Flashing her a returning smile, I push the camouflage pant leg upward, untie her boot, then remove it with the sock. A quick gesture to the other foot, and she throws it up, too. I feel her watching me as I repeat the motion, but when I drop the boot to the ground, I don’t let her foot go. She gently gasps as I circle my thumb against her sole, then she tries to yank it from my grasp.

I hold firm.

What are you doing?she mouths.

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