She huffs the smallest of laughs, but it’s genuine and it brings a lightness to the air and a blush to her cheeks. She shrugs off the compliment, so like herself, but I know it affected her just by the relaxed position she takes when her eyes finally reach mine again. Her movements are slow as she leans back on the bed, the soft creaking filling the room.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says easily and flirtatiously.
A noise from behind me forces me to turn around. I left the damn door open, mostly for Hally’s sake but also to keep me from being stupid. Although that’s exactly what this is.
Nancy Welsh knocks on the open door, peeking in hesitantly as she does. I’d recognize her anywhere with her salt and pepper hair that looks like she dyed it to be that way. She’s well known in the industry and has a solid reputation. She looks into the room, glancing between the two of us from behind her thin-framed glasses. “I just wanted a word if you have the time?” she asks Hally.
“Of course,” Hally answers and practically jumps from the bed. Her hands are folded in front of her as though she’s a child who’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Half of me is pissed by it, but the other half of me loves it and begs me to make myself even more comfortable in her room.
“Actually, I think tomorrow would be better?” Nancy says and looks pointedly at me. Hally isn’t catching on in the least. Her brow furrows and she shakes her head.
“Now is fine,” she says and a rough chuckle vibrates up my chest, catching the attention of both women.
I clear my throat and slide my hands across my worn jeans as I lean forward and ask Nancy, “Could I just have a few minutes?”
She gives me a tight smile and looks back at Hally, waiting for her to catch on, but she doesn’t. Hally never was the best at reading the subtle intentions of others, which is ironic, considering how well she’s able to portray them herself. “You can have all night,” she says easily and then waves goodbye, ignoring the gasp of a plea from Hally.
Nancy closes the door behind her and leaves the two of us alone, with Hally left standing awkwardly and staring at the closed door.
“She thinks we’re going to fuck,” I tell her.
That gets her eyes on me with her mouth opened in disbelief. “She knows I’m not like that,” Hally answers and I never would have thought those words could make me so hard.
“Not like what?” I ask her, although I already know. Mark provided me with a list of her former boy toys. It’s a short list and I’m grateful for that. More importantly, she’s currently single and “too busy working her ass off” to date.
Which is just perfect for me.
Hally waves off my question, retaking her seat and looking at me and then the closed door before asking, “Are we okay?”
Her face is etched with genuine concern. I hate it.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” I tell her, crossing my arms and leaning back. She’s wounded and scared and I’d bet anything she’d fall into my arms if I let her. And I want her so badly, but maybe I shouldn’t. A small voice whispers to let her be. That I don’t have to do this.
But I ignore that bastard voice and clear my throat to ask her, “Do you want to practice some lines together?”
She sees right through me, although she does glance at the stack of papers on her vanity. Her script. It’s fresh and neat. Obviously an updated version since her role has changed.
“It must be difficult changing roles during filming,” I say as if I’m genuinely interested in helping her.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” she says and that look comes back to her eyes. She’s waiting for me to offer more. Hopeful for it, even if she’s scared.
“We don’t need to practice lines then,” I tell her, holding her gaze and watching it heat.
“You want to … talk?” she asks.
“Not really,” I answer her honestly and she immediately looks away, brushing her hair from her face. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been too long to just assume she’d come back to me so easily. “We could just catch up,” I offer her, lightening the intensity of what I want from her.
“What about-” she starts to ask with a pained look. “I need to talk about what happened,” she says with tears in her eyes.
“It’s over with, Hally,” I shake my head, wanting that night to go back to not existing. Just pretend. It’s what I had to do for so long. She can too. It makes living that much easier.
I silence her and ask her, “Can we just pretend?” I feel like an asshole. Like a coward. Like I don’t fucking deserve my freedom. “Just forget it happened,” I tell her and pray she’ll play along. I can’t make it right; there’s no way to make it better. I wish I could for her. I’d give anything to go back and never tell her to go home in the first place. Then she wouldn’t have done the one thing she knew would piss me off. She wouldn’t have put herself in danger.