Chapter 10

Can you see me now?

Can you hear me shout?

When I'm dancing through the fear

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunday, May 22, 2019.

I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning, and no matter how much I tried, I failed miserably at falling asleep. All I could think of was tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The day we'd be filming the sex scene. The sex scene I'd actually be topless for. In other words, my naked boobs would be pressed to Henry's naked chest within the coming twenty four hours. I both dreaded and looked forward to it with a strange excitement. Right now, though, trapped in the dark of my trailer with only my thoughts for company, dread was the foremost emotion I felt. My boobs wouldn't exactly be on display for the whole world to see as they would only see my back, but Henry would (hell, he'd even touch them). But even if I went full frontal, he'd be the only one I cared about. (Also maybe my grandparents—it's kind of weird and uncomfortable knowing your grandfather will see your boobs, right?)

I kept thinking about what Henry would think of my appearance. I'd always been very insecure about my body, and so it usually takes a while for me to be comfortable to take my clothes off for the first time in front of someone I'm dating. And though I did have strong feelings for Henry, we weren't even really dating. I trusted him, of course, but it wasn't about whether I trusted him or not. It was about my own deeply rooted insecurity. My own deeply rooted fear for being rejected.

Eventually I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my laptop, opening iTunes, and started one of the playlists that was always sure to lift my spirits, setting it to shuffle. I may have turned it on a little too loud considering the late hour (it was nearly two in the morning), but at the moment I couldn't really care. I was desperate for some relief from my thoughts and fears. I grabbed a bottle of Heineken from my fridge, using the counter as an instrument to open it, and took a long gulp.

By the time the third song started, I was starting to feel myself relax a little bit more. I was also already halfway through my beer. If half a bottle of beer in about seven minutes was fast, I didn't know, but I also didn't care. So I simply took another sip. Just when I was about to belt along to the chorus of an Ellie Goulding song, however, there was a knock on my door.

Startled, I looked at the time on my laptop. 2:04 a.m. I turned my music down a little and set my beer on the table before opening the door.

And stood face to face with Henry.

Nothing much had changed between us since our trip to Disney World a week ago. As in, neither of us had made a move yet, and I was still as head over heels as ever. Well, not really. I may have surpassed even my own expectations and fallen even more for him.

"Hey," he said with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to disturb you. It's just... I couldn't sleep so I went to walk Kal, and I heard the music when I came back. I don't really know why I knocked. I could leave if you want to go to sleep," he rambled. "I mean, it's late, after all."

Only after Henry had mentioned him, did I see Kal sitting patiently next to his owner. I also realized I'd been gaping at Henry, and quickly moved to the side. "No! No, of course not. Come right in. I couldn't sleep either anyway."

Henry came in, unclipping Kal's leash from his collar and sitting down on the couch. He noticed the bottle of beer standing next to my laptop and raised an eyebrow, amused. "I thought you didn't like beer. Your choice of liquor is vodka soda, am I right?"

I smiled. "Preferring vodka soda doesn't mean I don't like beer. And sometimes it's just a beer night. Want one?"

He seemed to think for a moment and then shrugged. "Sure. Why not."

I grabbed another bottle from the fridge and uncapped it, using the counter again. "There you go," I told him as I handed it over.

"Impressive," he said, gesturing to the counter with his beer.

I smiled and sat down next to him on the couch. "Just a trick Quentin taught me. He wanted to teach me how to do it with my phone as well, but I politely declined. Decided not to risk it."

Henry laughed and took a sip of his beer. "I can understand why. So, why couldn't you sleep?"

I felt myself blush, and hoped I could pass it off as the alcohol taking effect if he asked about it. "I don't know," I said, deciding it to be wise to not mention my fear for tomorrow's scene.

"So it's not anxiety?" he asked, and I could see the concern in his eyes.

I smiled. It had everything to do with anxiety. Again, he knew me better than I might want him to. "Don't worry. I'm not about to have another attack." I didn't think so, at least.

"Oh, that's good."

"And why couldn't you sleep?"

He smiled. "I guess I don't really know, either. All I know is that I feel wide awake for some reason. So I went on a jog with Kal, and now we're here."

"And now we're here," I agreed.

It was quiet for a while as we drank our beer. I listened to the music, unaware for the most part that my head was bobbing along. Like I said, this music made me happy, and always in a mood to dance.

"Who's this?" Henry asked when a song called Sometimes came on. "I like his voice."

"Ron Pope. A vastly under-appreciated singer/songwriter. Then again, he's an independent artist, so that explains why he's so unknown. But he still has quite a few fans that love him to death, myself included. I've seen him live a few times. Mostly pretty intimate shows, which is awesome."

"Is he good live?"

"Oh my God, are you ready for this conversation?" I asked once I'd upended my beer. "Because I could go on and on about how his vocals are as smooth as molten chocolate and how he's so much better live than on his albums, and then, before you know it, I'm dragging you to one of his shows."

Henry laughed. "Not gonna lie, I'm actually kind of interested in seeing him live now, after seeing you so passionate about him."

"You just made yourself a deal that you can't get out of, my friend. We're going to one of his shows at some point."

"You know what? Deal." He shook my hand.

"This should be celebrated with another beer," I said, already standing up to walk over to the fridge. "Do you want another one, too?"

He downed the rest of his beer and put the empty bottle next to mine. "Now I do," he said, flashing a grin.

I grinned back and got two more beers out of the fridge. At this rate, we'd run out of beer soon. Oh well, there was plenty of vodka for when that happened.

Which happened to be pretty soon. I was also getting pretty drunk already, which also explained why I did what I did next. When Wicked World by Laura Jansen came on, I jumped up. It was one of those songs I always—no matter what—had to sing along to, not even mentioning the need to dance. "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" I exclaimed, and grabbed for Henry's hands. "Come on, let's dance."

He laughed, and, apparently as intoxicated as I was or just not giving a single fuck tonight, stood up and danced with me as I belted out the lyrics.

"And don't be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf / He's just a sheep underneath those teeth / And don't be afraid of the Wicked Witch / She ain't so bad, she ain't no bitch!"

I transitioned into the chorus, laughing as Henry and I danced along to the song. He was half-shaking his head at me and half-laughing at our silliness. I bet he'd never expected to be doing this with me at three in the morning, but he didn't really seem to mind the twist of events.

"Oh! Oh, this is my favorite part," I said, and started in on the last verse along with Laura Jansen. "Oh, oh Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair / Giddy up, giddy up on your big white horse / Even if your prince ain't there / Oh, I long for ever after like every princess should / But there's always another chapter and the apple sure tastes good!"

When the song finally ended, I laughed elatedly and let myself fall against Henry's chest. He laughed along with me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and asked, "Are you okay there?"

"Oh, I'm fine," I said cheerily, wrapping my arms around his neck. "That was fun!"

He shook his head. "I can't believe you're not throwing up yet. You took those last few drinks pretty fast."

I shot him a look. "I took all my drinks tonight pretty fast. But don't worry. I inherited my grandfather's iron stomach. When it comes to drinking, at least. He always takes at least two shots of jenever every night. You know, Dutch Gin?"

"How strong is that?"

"It depends. Old Dutch Gin is stronger than young Dutch Gin, and I have no idea which one he drinks. But about the same as vodka, I guess?"

He nodded thoughtfully, and then smiled. "Teach me some Dutch."

"What do you wanna know?"

"Well, seeing as we're hugging right now, what's hug in Dutch?"

"Knuffel," I answered. "Which also translates to stuffed animal. It's weird, I know."

"What about... Dance with me?"

"Are you asking me to translate or to actually dance with you?" I verified, my brain too drunk to be sure.

Henry smiled. "Both," he said, and he twirled me around, making me giggle.

"Dans met mij," I translated for him.

"And how would I order a beer in Dutch? It's very vital I know this," he joked.

I giggled again. "Very vital information, indeed. Um... I'm just gonna give you the informal one that every Dutchie uses. Een biertje, graag."

"And that means?"

"A beer, please." I shrugged. "Very casual."

"Well, now that I know that vital piece of information, how do you call someone beautiful in Dutch?"

I pointed at him, still keeping my other arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Now here's where it gets tricky, because I never think it sounds as well in Dutch as it does in English—it kind of sounds tacky or something, I don't know how to explain it—but just like with English, there are different ways to say it. 'Je bent mooi' translates to 'you're pretty' and 'je bent prachtig' is more like 'you're gorgeous' or 'you're beautiful.'"

With another beautiful smile, he twirled me around. "Well, Juliette Morrison, je bent prachtig," he said, the pronunciation far from perfect, but both the effort and the gesture behind the words made me feel flustered, even through the drunken haze in my brain.

Instead of showing it, however, I smirked. "En jij bent een lekkerding."

A cute frown appeared between his brows. "What does that mean?"

I pressed a finger to my lips, winking. "Shh..."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Monday, May 23, 2019.

When I woke up, light was streaming into my trailer. My head throbbed with every small movement I made, so I stayed as still as I could—which actually wasn't so difficult considering I was still exhausted and I was pretty comfortable where I lay. My pillow was a lot harder and warmer than I was used to, and yet... I liked it. I wished I could wake up like this every day.

Suddenly, however, my pillow moved, tightening his arms around me. My eyes flew open, which I regretted immediately—a sharp jab of pain nearly seemed to split my forehead open. Along with the pain came the sudden realization that I wasn't lying on a pillow at all. I was lying on Henry's chest.

I was afraid to move. Afraid to even think about where I was and how I'd gotten there. I couldn't remember falling asleep. Everything was a blur after I'd finished my fifth vodka soda and started singing along to an old Jonas Brothers song with zero shame. I nearly groaned as I remembered that part of the night.

But I had bigger problems than being embarrassed about singing along to my favorite band in high school and college. I couldn't recall what had happened between Henry and me that could've landed us in this position. Had we kissed? Had we... well, you know, done it—last night? I was still completely dressed, though, so at least that seemed unlikely, which helped ease my nerves a little—but only very slightly.

I'd never had a drunken blackout before. Then again, I couldn't remember ever knocking drinks back as fast as I did last night either. I also usually wasn't one for hangovers, with a few exceptions, and I could only hope the headache I felt now was temporary. I didn't really want to deal with a hangover while I was filming my sex scene with Henry.

The sex scene.

I felt my heart beat wildly in my throat as I thought about the sex scene. We'd be shooting it in a matter of hours, though I didn't know how many. Shooting would start as soon as it was dark out, and the sunlight streaming in through my window told me that was still at least a little while away. But I'd been up until really quite late last night, so for all I knew, it could already be six p.m. I had personal experience with sleeping in that late, so it wasn't that far-fetched a theory.

I was at war with myself. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to check my phone (if it was even nearby or turned on, for that matter) to check the time, but I didn't want to wake Henry up if it was still early. I wanted to stay wrapped up in his arms like this forever, and yet I was too embarrassed to stay there for fear of what his reaction might be once he woke up to find me on his chest. Then again, he was already in my trailer anyway, which would be hard to explain if he was experiencing the same blackouts I was. But what if he remembered last night perfectly? What if we'd had a moment yesterday where we'd shared our feelings for each other and I was the only one of us who wouldn't be able to remember it? Simply put, I didn't know what to do, so instead I decided to do nothing.

I stayed wrapped up in Henry's arms, my head rising and falling slightly in time with his breathing. My ear was pressed right over his heart, and his slow and steady heartbeat proved to be very calming. I even managed to close my eyes again, pretending for a moment that every morning was like this. Protected by as beautiful and loving a person as Henry, feeling safe and—well, loved.

My fast heartbeat returned quickly, though, once Henry woke up. He mumbled something incoherent and tightened his arms around me even more. And then he stiffened, his heart skipping a beat.

"Juliette?" he asked softly, his voice gruff from sleeping.

What do I do? Do I say 'hi'? Do I do nothing? Do I own up to the incredibly weird moment and say something flirty? What do I do???

I eventually chose my second option, knowing too much time had already passed for the other options in my hesitation. So I stayed as still as possible, praying to any god that could hear me that he wouldn't be able to feel my fast heartbeat.

After a moment's hesitation, Henry shook my shoulder gently. "Juliette?" he whispered. "Wake up."

I moaned softly, pretending to only just be waking up. "I don't wanna wake up," I mumbled, burying my face deeper into his chest. "My head hurts."

That made him laugh, but most of all relax. "I'm honestly not surprised, at the rate you were going last night. I'm a little hungover too, I must admit. I thought my drunken blackouts were behind me, but apparently not."

Drunken blackouts? So he couldn't remember parts of last night either? There was only one way to find out.

"I can't even remember falling asleep," I said, slowly sitting up and rubbing my eyes. I was sad to no longer feel his arms around me, but that was probably for the best.

"Honestly, neither can I," Henry admitted. "Remind me to make sure we ration ourselves next time we drink together."

I felt butterflies in my stomach at the suggestion we'd be doing it again someday. Or maybe that was just my hangover. Either way, I smiled. "I will."

"How late is it anyway?" Henry asked, digging in his jeans' pockets and retrieving his phone. He pressed the Home button on the iPhone, and his eyes widened as his display lit up. "Shit, it's already almost three p.m. How the hell did we manage that?"

I couldn't help myself—I snorted. "Trust me, I've had worse. We apparently just partied until really quite late."

"I've also only got four percent of battery life left. Damned smartphones," he cursed to himself. "I'd better get back to my trailer and charge this thing. Taking a shower and maybe some aspirin might be nice too."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Those two things sound very good right now. I guess I'll see you in the makeup trailer soon."

He smiled. "You will." He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek and left my trailer, leaving me sitting on the bed, stumped.

A big part of me still couldn't even believe we'd been drinking together last night, let alone me waking up on Henry's chest or us being so nonchalant about it. Well, no, nonchalant wasn't really the right word. It was more like we were ignoring the whole matter altogether. Worked for me.

Once I was in the shower, however, all I could think about was the scene we'd be filming soon. I'd surely make a fool of myself later, and though nothing had happened yet, I already felt like crawling into a hole where no one would find me. The prospect of doing this scene kind of made me wish I'd never auditioned for this movie in the first place. I'd be missing out on a few great things, sure, but I'd also be saving myself a lot of embarrassments.

Would I really wish all this time with Henry away, though? Or even with Natascha? I'd formed a pretty good friendship with my P.A. over the past few weeks I'd known her. Would I really be willing to wish all of that away just because I felt a little (okay, a lot) uncomfortable now? I needed to man the fuck up and get over myself.

And so I finished rinsing my body and turned the water off, stepping out of the small cabin. I towel dried my hair but otherwise let it dry naturally, knowing I'd get it wet later anyway. Besides, one of the benefits of having super straight hair is that it never dries up frizzy or otherwise out of control. I got dressed in comfortable short denim shorts and a white button down blouse, pairing the outfit off with high top sneakers and sunglasses—hangovers really were a bitch.

I disconnected my phone from its charger, happy to see it was fully charged, and stepped out into the bright and sunny day, heading for the cafeteria. I ordered myself a quick breakfast and joined Natascha where she was eating a late lunch.

"Hey," she greeted me with a bright smile. "I haven't seen you all day."

I grimaced. "That's because I only just woke up. Probably just as well seeing as we'll be filming all night."

She regarded me with a dumbfounded look on her face for a few moments before busting out a laugh. "Oh gosh, really? You didn't strike me as the type to party all night."

"I'm usually not. But I apparently was last night. I couldn't sleep and then Henry came by, and we had a few beers. And then a few beers turned into quite a few vodka sodas. Trust me, I'm regretting those drinks now." I gestured to my sunglasses.

She leaned forward eagerly, a grin on her face. "You had drinks with Henry? Girl, are you sure you regret that? Because honestly, if it were me..." She trailed off meaningfully.

I laughed.  "Well, nothing happened. At least, not that I can remember. I woke up with him an hour ago, but I can't even remember falling asleep."

Her eyes widened. "You woke up with him? Oh, honey!"

I felt myself grow red. "We were both still fully clothed, so I'm pretty sure nothing happened," I said quickly, feeling the need to defend myself. "We probably just passed out drunk."

Natascha shook her head wistfully. "Juliette, you get yourself into the weirdest situations."

I bust out a laugh. "Don't I know it."

"So," she said, wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially, "what did you two do?"

"Besides getting drunk off our asses? I taught him some Dutch—though I don't know how much of that actually stuck—and made an absolute fool of myself by dancing and singing along to my music. I'm surprised I didn't wake anyone up."

She sighed dreamily. "Isn't that just the dream? Getting drunk with..." Her eyes widened and she suddenly straightened in her chair. Way to be obvious. "Oh."

I looked behind me, following Natascha's gaze, and already knew what I would see. Henry came walking into the cafeteria, Ryan by his side. Henry was smiling, but the black wayfarers resting on his nose hinted at the hangover he was also still suffering from. I used my own sunglasses to shield my eyes as I studied his features. His brown hair was messy and void of any product, as I always liked it best. I loved seeing his curls in their natural state. His jaw looked sharp in the bright sunlight, and his lips... Well, it's no secret how I felt about his lips. His black sunglasses added an air of mystery to him that made him even more attractive than usual.

Henry and Ryan grabbed their food and joined us. Natascha looked flustered at having Henry and the movie's director at her table. "Hey," Henry said with a grin. "I see I'm not the only one who had the brilliant idea to wear sunglasses this morning."

Ryan fake-coughed. "I think you mean afternoon, Cavill."

Had Henry told Ryan what I'd told Natascha? Or had he actually remembered more than what I had and told Ryan that too?

I grinned back at Henry. "Hey, we're in Miami. It's not that strange to wear sunglasses."

"You're inside," Natascha said, and then, realizing she'd said anything at all, pressed her lips together.

Ryan snorted. "I like your bluntness," he said. "Who are you again?"

Natascha turned red. "I'm Natascha, one of the P.A.s, Mr. Zachary."

"Oh, please, call me Ryan. So you're Juliette's personal P.A., huh?"

"Uh... Sort of. Not officially, but I do a lot of things for her."

I laughed. "You're making me sound like I'm high maintenance."

Henry quirked an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you? I had a hard time keeping up with you last night. Seems pretty high maintenance to me," he teased.

"Hey!" I said defensively, poking him in his side with my elbow. "I told you, I inherited my grandfather's drinking skills."

"I'd like to meet this grandfather of yours once. Challenge the both of you to a drinking contest and see who of us wins." He seemed to reconsider. "Wait, how old is he?"

I laughed. "He's sixty eight. He had my mother young."

Henry turned to Ryan. "That's young enough for a drinking contest, right?"

"Hey, my own grandpa is in his nineties and sure seems to think so, so I wouldn't be too worried about hers."

"It's settled then," Henry said with another grin.

"I'll pass your challenge on to him. He lives in the Netherlands, though, so that might be slightly problematic."

"I'll make sure you two have some promotional work to do in Amsterdam," Ryan said. "Then you can visit him at his retirement home."

Henry laughed. "I was just joking. But promo stuff in Amsterdam actually sounds pretty good."

I nodded in agreement. It had been a while since I'd last been in my parents' home country and I was aching to go back. Maybe I could show Henry some of my favorite sights while we were there. And maybe I really would visit my grandparents. It had been too long since I'd seen them, and I was actually really missing my grandmother's pot roast.

We finished our food and Henry and I were basically shoved off to the makeup trailer by Ryan. Elle and Marie already stood ready to make us look like we hardly had any makeup on. Aside from the usual foundation, highlighter, bronzer and blusher, Elle applied the tiniest bit of mascara on my lashes. We talked for a bit, but now that our scene was getting closer and closer, I found myself talk on autopilot. My head wasn't in it. My head was inside that studio where we'd be filming the sex scene. Henry was quieter than usual as well, and I couldn't help but wonder why.

Was he nervous, like me? Or was he dreading it? Or did he just pick up on my nervous mood and decided not to try and engage me in any conversation-making I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anyway?

Once we were done in makeup, we were directed to the costume department, where I was given my outfit. It contained a pair of black skinny jeans and a navy blouse. But what was perhaps most disconcerting about it was the underwear she supplied me with. A black lacy pair of panties and a matching bra. I tried not to blush and headed into the dressing room to change.

The outfit looked great on me, if I ignored what was hiding underneath the jeans and blouse. Nevertheless, I still stepped out of my dressing room confidently, pretending nothing was wrong. I was supposed to be a great actress after all, right? I should be able to hide my discomfort, even from Henry, who ended up knowing me pretty well already.

To match up the outfit, the stylist gave me a pair of shiny black pumps, and I put a hand on Henry's shoulder to balance myself as I stepped into them. Once I had them on, I was only one or two inches shorter than Henry.

We were then taken to an outdoor set. It looked like a regular street, apart from the fact that the houses only had fronts. They'd done it pretty realistically, though, so it felt like I was walking through an actual street. It was already rapidly getting dark, and they'd even thought to add street lights. Above the houses, they'd set up a few way-oversized shower heads to make it seem like it was raining. They were still turned off now, but it would be pouring as soon as we'd start filming.

Once everyone was assembled, Ryan clapped his hands together. "Okay, I want this stuff in the rain done as perfectly as possible on the first take. You can fuck up your lines in the car as much as you like, but I want to shoot the parts out of it as little as possible. It takes up a huge chunk of time to get you guys dry again and again. You guys understand?" Henry, the crew involved in filming this scene, and I nodded. "Good. Okay, Henry, Juliette, get in the car and we'll start shooting."

Henry and I got in the car, me settling in the passenger seat after he'd gallantly opened the door for me. He sat down behind the steering wheel and turned the wipers on already. There were cameras inside the car that could be controlled remotely so the scene could look as real as possible.

Outside of the car, Ryan gave a sign to one of the crew members, and suddenly the shower heads turned on. Fake rain hammered down on the car, streaming down the windows. We'd be soaked in mere seconds had we stood outside. It made me understand even more why Ryan didn't want to get us dry after a take and then do it all over again. It'd be immensely time consuming. Ryan settled in his director's chair so he could properly see his screens and gave us our cue. We were rolling.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," Henry said, turning in his seat to look at me.

I laughed. "Are you sure? Because that movie was the most horrible thing I've ever seen."

He laughed, reaching for my hand. His thumb gently stroked circles onto my skin. "It was, yeah. But I don't care. I got to spend two hours with you. I'll gladly watch a terrible movie if it means I get to spend time with you."

I looked down at our intertwined hands. "You're such a dork, Noah."

"I know," he said, and we both laughed softly, letting the sound of the rain falling on the roof of the car fill the space around us for a while. "Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

I peered out at the pouring rain. "You'll end up getting soaked."

"I don't care. It's the chivalrous thing to do, right?"

I shook my head. "You and your British chivalry. But fine, if you insist."

"Cut!" Ryan called. "Okay, great job. Let's try that a couple more times, and then we'll actually head out into the rain."

And so we did the scene inside the car a few more times, until Ryan was satisfied that everything was perfect. I was growing more and more nervous on the inside, but I prided myself with the fact that no one would be able to tell on the outside.

"Start with the 'Do you want me to walk you to your door' and then continue on," Ryan instructed. "Then once you've said your lines, get out into the rain and play your part. Remember, I want perfection on the first try!"

I took a deep breath and the cameras started rolling again. We settled back into that comfortable silence, listening to the fake rain fall on the roof of the car until Henry said, "Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

I looked outside at the pouring rain. "You'll end up getting soaked."

"I don't care. It's the chivalrous thing to do, right?"

I shook my head. "You and your British politeness. But fine, if you insist."

Henry gave me a bright smile that nearly made my heart stop. He got out of the car and hurried over to my side to open the door for me. I got out, and we were soaked in seconds. He held my hand as we ran up to Amelia's front door, laughing.

"Wait!" I called out when we were about halfway.

Henry as Noah looked at me with a confused look on his face, but at the moment, I couldn't really think about acting anymore. I remembered my lines, but I wasn't saying them as Amelia. I was Juliette and he was Henry, and this was the guy that I was in love with. There really was no denying it anymore. I loved him. He was the person who, in such a short time, had come to understand me completely. He understood my anxiety, understood what I needed when I had an attack, and he let me be myself no matter my moods. And I was just hopelessly in love with him.

I pulled him into me as the rain poured onto our heads. His eyes darkened just before they closed and our lips connected. His hand cupped my neck, tilting my head up so he had better access to my mouth. The rain was cold, but I didn't even feel it anymore. All I felt was the heat of our kiss. It warmed me up all the way to my toes, and all I really wanted was to be even closer to him than I already was. There were too many layers separating us and I just wanted him. I wanted him so much that it was almost a shame that the sex scene we'd be filming was fake.

Slowly, we made our way to the front door, kissing feverishly. My heart was beating wildly in my throat, especially once I realized he was kissing me with as much want as I was him. Still kissing him, one hand tangled in his wet hair, I used my other hand to clumsily fish a set of keys out of my pocket. I broke from the kiss reluctantly, staring at him before I struggled to open the front door, breathing heavily. Once the door was finally open, our lips connected again and we stumbled over the threshold.

"Cut!" Ryan yelled. "Great job, you two! It all seems perfect—if we need reshoots, we'll find out eventually. Now let's go on to the other location and keep shooting."

And so we all packed up, Henry and me still soaking wet, and moved to the studio, where Amelia's house was set up. As Ryan gave us some last minute instructions, I felt my inner turmoil return. Now that the moment was gone, now that Henry and I weren't kissing anymore and my mind wasn't filled with only the feel of him, there was room for my worries again. Kissing him was one thing, but getting naked with him (apart from my panties and his boxers) was something entirely different. But whether I liked it or not, this was my job.

So when Ryan told us to take our positions, I did so without hesitation. "Remember, guys, I wanna try to do this in one take as well, so we can make it flow as naturally as possible. And now... Action!"

Henry and I stumbled over the threshold, kissing feverishly as if there'd never been a break. And just like that, all my worries were gone. All there was left in my mind was Henry. He tugged my wet shirt out of my pants and his hands slipped under it, trailing his fingers over the skin on my back. A fire ignited everywhere he touched me. His mouth was soft but unyielding on mine, like steel covered in satin. I wanted to kiss him forever, almost as much as I wanted to wrap myself up in him and never let go. It really was like I was drowning in him, but I liked the burning ache in my lungs. It made me feel alive.

Henry slowly unbuttoned my shirt, letting his hands explore my body bit by bit. Goosebumps arose everywhere his fingers touched my wet skin. I wanted him to touch me everywhere. Finally the shirt was unbuttoned and he let it drop to the floor. I responded by briefly breaking the kiss to pull his shirt over his head. My heart was beating wildly in my throat as my hands explored his chest, stomach and back, and I was sure he'd notice, but at this point I didn't even care anymore. I didn't care that he would find out how I felt about him—I wanted him to find out. Maybe, after this, he would come clean about his own feelings for me and we could finally be together.

Henry pulled away just as my fingers slid down his waist to the waistband of his jeans, and I remembered there were lines to be said before we could actually go that far. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were darker than usual, hypnotizing me. He cupped my neck with his hand and just stared into my eyes awhile before he asked, "Are you sure about this, Amy?"

I nodded, and a slow smile spread over his face. He pushed me back until I hit the wall and our lips connected again, kissing more hungrily and feverishly than before. Slowly, we made our way farther into the apartment. At some point, I stepped out of my heels, making me a full head shorter than Henry, but he solved the problem by lifting me up and carrying me over to the bedroom, still kissing me.

Once there, instead of laying me down on the bed, he pushed me up to a wall again, unbuttoning my jeans. The wet denim stuck to my skin, and we laughed as he tried to get them off. He kicked his shoes off and I relieved him of his equally wet jeans. He stepped closer to me, trapping me flush between him and the wall, and he dipped his head down to kiss my neck. Without even trying, he'd found the part that was most sensitive, and I tried to withhold a moan, but failed. He was a very skilled kisser, as it turned out, and I tried to downplay the reaction I was having from his lips and tongue on my skin, but it felt too good. Now more than ever, there was just Henry and me. There were no cameramen, no other crew, and no Ryan. Just the two of us and the way he made me feel.

He carried me over to the bed then, and he sat down in the middle of it with me on his lap. I straddled him, our lips connecting again in a fiery explosion. My hands were tangled in his damp curls as his fingers traced over my back. My heartbeat was off the charts and it would be a miracle if he didn't notice it now. Slowly, his fingers trailed higher and higher on my back, until eventually, he reached my bra. He undid the hook and the straps fell down my arms as the bra fell away, revealing my breasts. He didn't even look down as he tossed the bra away, though. He just kept kissing me feverishly, his tongue playing with mine, as he pulled me closer to him. A soft gasp escaped my throat as our chests were pressed flush together.

We'd hugged tighter than this, but never with so very few layers between us. It was the most right thing I'd felt in a long while. Our skin was still wet, but warm to the touch with our blood boiling underneath the surface. I wished now more than ever that we were doing this for real, somewhere private. The knowledge that we weren't almost made me sad.

And then, half hidden under the covers, we were making love. Or, well, pretending to, anyway. Our hips were moving in perfect harmony with each other, Henry pretending to thrust in and out of me. I felt he was actually hard under me, and knowing that I turned him on made the blood rise to my cheeks. I kissed him even harder than before as he clasped our hands together and intertwined our fingers. He flipped us over so he was on top, skillfully blocking my boobs from view with his own chest, and he continued to pretend to make love to me.

All through filming the rest of the scene, I kept finding myself wishing that this was real. That we were in private right now, and he was actually filling me up, slowly driving me to pure ecstasy. For a bit longer, I could pretend that what we had was real. Not just my hopes, or him being an exceptional actor by pretending to fall in love with me, but just two people that cared deeply for each other and simply succumbed to their desire for one another. But fantasies couldn't last forever, and I, of all people, had to have known that.

"Cut!" Ryan yelled. "All right, that was perfect, you guys. You really sold it. Really, you should get yourselves a drink to celebrate, because your work tonight was absolutely stellar."

His praise was genuine, but I couldn't help but feel it was unjustified. I hadn't really been Amelia. I really had been in love, and I really had wanted to make love to the man on top of me. But the aforementioned man rolled off of me and handed me a robe. I quickly pulled it on and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You really were great, Juliette," Henry complimented me, none of his earlier lust visible on his face, and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Yeah... Thanks. So were you, by the way. You convinced even me you were in love with me for a second there."

Henry just smiled and walked off to talk to Ryan, leaving me confused and wanting on the bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lyrics at the start of the chapter are Notice by Diana Vickers.

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