Page 68 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
“So,” she finally says, her fingers curling over the tops of her knees. “Do you want to take the picture first?”
“Right. Yes. Let’s do that.” I grab my phone off the coffee table, happy to have somewhere to direct the energy coursing through me.
It’s just past eight, and the sun has finally disappeared, leaving a sky streaked with red, yellow, and orange. “Actually, this is probably the perfect time to do it. Look at that sky.”
Audrey moves to the window. “It’s beautiful.”
“Wait. Stop right there. Can I take your picture?”
She turns and looks over her shoulder, her lips curving into a soft smile.
My heart might as well beout of my body and on the floor.
“Looking out the window?” she says, turning back to face the sunset.
“That’s perfect.”
I watch her a moment, and she lifts her hand to her hair, brushing it to the side so I can see the long column of her neck. One arm rests on top of her head, her hair cascading down from her hand, and I snap the picture. When I pull it up to see if it works, I almost start to laugh. With the fading evening light, the sunset view over the mountains, and her silhouette in front of the window, it looks like a shot out of a magazine.
I walk over and stand beside her, showing her the photo. “You’re a natural.”
She takes my phone. “What? That’s not me. How did you even do that?”
“You did it,” I say, taking the phone as she hands it back. “All I did was push the button.” I pull up my Instagram account. “Are you okay if I post this?”
She nods, so I upload the photo and add a quick caption.“Enjoying the view of her enjoying the view…”I say out loud as I type. I show it to her. “Does that work?”
She lets out a tiny chuckle. “I like the hint of word play.” She licks her lips, and I force my eyes away from them. I can’t start thinking about kissing this woman. Not when we still have so much that we need to discuss.Including kissing.Will she be willing? Do I even want her to be if it isn’t real?
“There. Posted.” I toss my phone onto a nearby chair, determined not to touch it again. Simon will see the post and know how to field any questions or inquiries it triggers. For now, my part is done.
“Now what?” Audrey asks.
“Now we talk details.”
She nods and follows me back to the couch. I start by going over the schedule in detail, using the outline Joni dropped off earlier. The plan now is that we’ll fly into LAX together and make sure we walk through the airport holding hands. Simon will tip off a couple of photographers about when we’ll be arriving just to make sure my presence—and the fact that I’m not alone—is noted by the press. The press junket will start early the following morning with a round of interviews, followed by the premiere that evening, then a panel discussion with the entire cast, hosted by UCLA and open to the press, the following morning. “We’ll make sure you’re around during the junket,” I say. “Visible to reporters, but not on camera. I’ll decline to comment directly on our relationship, but we’ll make it clear through our interactions that we’re together.”
“Right. But what does that mean, exactly?Howwill we show them?” She fidgets with the hem of her dress, folding it up accordion style, then smoothing it out again.
“We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, but I was thinking we’d just touch each other a lot, hold hands. Maybe I’ll whisper things into your ear every once in a while.”
She nods, but she doesn’t look up.
I wait, sensing she wants to say something, but nothing comes.
“Hey.” I reach over and touch her knee, my fingers lingering just long enough for me to notice the silky softness of her skin. “It doesn’t have to be that way. If anything makes you uncomfortable, it’s off the table. You could tell me you’ve changed your mind altogether, and I’d say okay, no questions asked.”
She lets out a little laugh. “You just spent a billion dollars on me today. I’m not backing out.”
“Not quite a billion dollars. But okay. Then tell me what works for you.”
She’s quiet for a long moment before she stands up and holds out her hand.
I slip my fingers into hers, and she tugs me up so we’re standing directly across from each other, no more than a foot of space between us.
“Show me?” she says, her voice soft. “If I just try to imagine what this is going to be like, my brain will spiral and come up with all kinds of uncomfortable possibilities. But if you show me, I’ll know exactly what to expect.”
“Show you how we’ll touch?”
