Page 21 of Lights, Camera, Love

Evie leans forward from the back, propping her elbows on Austin’s seat.

‘I’m worried about the movie, too,’ she admits.

‘I don’t know nearly as much about filmmaking as you guys, but I’m pretty sure we’d have a better chance if Buzz would just shoot something straight-up instead of trying to do a weird take on everything. ’

‘He’s the wrong director for this movie,’ I agree.

‘At this rate, he’s going to tank the whole thing.

I’m not sure the studio execs are aware of how badly he’s screwing up.

Or maybe they are, and they’re just crossing their fingers it all comes good in the edit suite because it would be too costly and painful to replace him. ’

Austin side-eyes me. ‘So, what are you gonna do about it?’

‘Me?’

‘You told me that you were gonna get a whole bunch of buzz going for this film. At least then, it might have a chance.’

‘I think what it needs is a whole lot less of Buzz,’ I reply dryly.

‘Oh, very funny,’ Austin says.

‘Hey, man, you’re the one who insisted on doing this role.’

‘Then why didn’t you talk me out of it if you knew it would be this bad? We could have waited for something better to come in.’

I throw him an annoyed glance. Austin knows as well as I do that there’s no talking him out of anything he’s set his mind on.

‘What about the dance showcase?’ Evie says in a hesitant tone.

My eyes flicker to hers in the rear-vision mirror. ‘ What do you mean?’

Austin swivels to look at Evie, his face caught in a frown. ‘I already told you I didn’t want to do that.’

‘Do what?’ I press.

When he turns silent, she says, ‘The DanceLab charity showcase that Rafael’s putting on. Rafa wants me to partner with Austin for one of the celebrity dances.’

‘And Austin has already said no,’ he adds. ‘I don’t dance.’

‘You’re starring in a dance movie,’ I remind him.

‘Not as a dancer,’ he cuts back. ‘That’s your gig.’

‘Come on,’ I say. With the media there, it would be a fantastic publicity opportunity. ‘You can pull off one dance,’ I encourage. ‘I’ll help you. You’ll look great up there, man. Promise.’

Austin’s eyes snap to me. After a long sigh, he turns back to face the window.

‘He’ll do it,’ I tell Evie through the mirror while we’re stopped at a traffic light.

A smile pulls at her lips, and while I resist the urge to smile back, I let my gaze cling to hers until a blush blooms over her cheeks. I wrench my eyes off her, my heart rate jacking up.

Once we’ve found a place to park—after ten minutes of circling—Austin and Evie head straight for the sand, armed with beach bags and an umbrella.

Ideally, I would leave the area altogether, but Austin demanded that I stick around somewhere well out of sight.

Plus, I want to make sure everything goes to plan.

I tug my black baseball cap as low as I can and wander into the grassy park behind the beach, nabbing a seat inside one of the enclosed picnic huts.

Its lattice wall allows me to watch what’s happening on the beach without being seen, making it the perfect scope-out spot.

Once Austin and Evie emerge from the surf club’s change rooms in their swimmers, they traipse down to the south end of the beach and spread out their towels near the foamy waves that rush back and forth over the sand.

Trying not to combust at the sight of Evie in a turquoise polka-dot bikini, I draw in a steadying breath and scan the spots where the paparazzi are most likely to be.

Relief loosens my lungs when I see four photographers bunched up on the joggers’ path with their backs to me; my lips quirk up at their doubling in number since the grocery store set-up.

As I’m watching, they abruptly lift their cameras and point them at the south end of the beach, and my eyes fly back to Austin and Evie.

My stomach twists into a knot.

They’re already kissing.

They’re not only kissing, they’re making out … hot and heavy. Probably offending everyone within a ten-kilometre radius and breaking a law or two.

Austin’s arms are locked around Evie’s lower back and her hands are clutching his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Their mouths are moving with the sort of desperate rhythm that makes me know their tongues have officially met—unlike the fake on-screen kisses I witnessed this morning.

If Buzz saw this, he’d have a raging hard-on and bark at Cesar to start rolling.

Little rips tear at my gut, but my eyes refuse to look away from the scene that’s crushing me with jealousy.

I watch as Austin falls onto his back and wrenches Evie on top of him, her thigh sliding between his and his palms gliding up and down her bare skin.

He tugs her harder against him as their mouths move roughly together.

The pain in my stomach cuts deeper, and finally I drop my gaze to the sand particles sprinkled over the concrete beneath my shoes.

Again, I remind myself that it’s a good thing if Austin and Evie develop genuine feelings for each other.

If Austin gets a girlfriend, it’ll mean he’s found happiness not only professionally but also personally, which is what I want.

He deserves that after what I did to him.

And it’ll make it that much easier for me to quit this job.

The hot, melting feeling I get whenever Evie sets her eyes on me has to stop. Right fucking now.

I brave another peek at them. The show is over, thank god; Evie is now lying on her stomach next to Austin, peering in my direction.

Even though I know she can’t see me through the lattice wall, I get up and tread further into the park, away from the beach.

When I’m safely out of view, I type out a text to Austin.

ME: Eleven out of ten.

I’m sure they have enough. If you guys want to have a swim, I can grab a cold drink somewhere and pick you up in an hour or so.

My heart begins to pound as I wait for his reply.

AUSTIN: No need. We’ll get an Uber. I might grab Evie dinner, so if u wanna head out to dance class or something, go ahead, bro.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to snap back at him with a harsh reply that I’ll later regret.

The last thing I want is to get into a fight with Austin, but he just hit multiple nerves—telling me he’s about to spend the whole evening with Evie and giving me permission to go to a lesson, like he’s my goddamn father.

Instead of typing anything, I shove my phone in my pocket and trudge back to the car so I can head home to grab my hiking boots and escape to the national park.