Page 43 of Romance Is Dead

Waking up next to Teddy was a disorienting experience. Not just because I was used to sleeping alone, but because when I realized we’d spent the entire night with his arm tucked around my waist, my first instinct wasn’t to jump out of bed and run away screaming.

Instead, I rolled over to face him — carefully — so his arm wouldn’t slip out of place.

He was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with his rhythmic breaths, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly.

I made a mental note to tease him about this later, something about him looking like a big-mouthed bass while he slept.

But he didn’t, really. He looked peaceful, strong.

Like one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

It was still terrifying, admitting to myself what he meant to me.

But maybe I could believe what he’d told me the night before. That I meant something to him.

I wanted to believe him. And I think I did.

With a stretch and a yawn, Teddy rumbled awake. Without opening his eyes, he wrapped both arms around me and pulled me onto his chest.

“Morning,” he whispered, his voice raspy with sleep. “You stayed.”

“Correct. I didn’t wake up and flee in the middle of the night.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

“You know. . .” Teddy rubbed a hand up and down my back, his thumb straying to the curve of my breast. “We could do what we did last night again. A repeat performance, if you will. We’re already dressed for it.”

“You haven’t even opened your eyes yet.” I poked him gently in the rib. “What if you’re horrified by what I look like first thing in the morning?”

Teddy made a show of opening his eyes and studying my bed head and bare face. “Nope, checks out. Still gorgeous. Maybe more.”

“You don’t want Mara to come fix me up first?”

“I definitely don’t” — he lowered his head to my neck, sucking the spot below my ear that made me sigh — “want her here right now.” His hand dipped to the crease of my thigh, running his fingers, featherlight, along the delicate skin.

“Yeah, ok.” I pulled his mouth up to mine, unable to resist any longer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

While the night before had been frantic and desperate, this time it was lazy and luxurious.

We took our time, using our hands and mouths to find the spots we liked best. And when I came, he looked at me in wonder, like it was an act of worship.

When we were finished, we dozed off again for another hour, before I grabbed my phone with a gasp.

“Oh my God.” I clicked on the screen, my heart sinking when I saw the time. Then I saw I had a mass text, sent to all the cast members from Natasha. “Oh my God,” I repeated, louder this time.

“What?” Teddy’s voice was groggy, his eyes still closed.

I ran my eyes over the message one more time, making sure I wasn’t misreading. “The production has been. . . cancelled. Or postponed, I guess. Officially. But Natasha doesn’t sound optimistic.”

“Wait, seriously?” He grabbed his own phone, reading the text for himself. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.” He ran a hand down his face. “It wasn’t exactly going well.”

I couldn’t say anything, the breath squeezed out of my lungs as it registered that my very last movie wasn’t going to happen. My career was over, and while I’d been telling myself that was what I wanted for months, suddenly I didn’t feel ready.

Noticing the stricken look on my face, Teddy rolled over to face me. “Are you ok? I thought you’d be happy about this.”

For a long moment, I didn’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about this, I thought, the feeling of my old walls once again rising up. I don’t want to think about this, let alone talk about it.

But did I not want to talk about it? Or did I just not know the answer to the question?

“I’m sorry,” Teddy reached out to rub my back. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s. . .” I struggled to find the words. “I don’t know how I feel about it. I don’t feel like I thought I would, anyway.”

“I thought you were excited to be done?”

“I thought so too.” My voice was quiet and I refused to meet his eyes, focusing instead on a tiny knot in the comforter’s stitching.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but. . . do you even want to quit making movies? Horror movies?”

Almost imperceptibly, I shook my head. “No. Yes? I don’t know.”

I could tell he wanted to press, to ask me what that meant.

But he didn’t. And I was grateful, because even if I had realized I wasn’t done with horror stories, I still didn’t know how exactly I fit in.

I didn’t want to be an actress, but I didn’t know how to be anything else. I still didn’t know where I fit.

“Oh, Quinn.” Teddy pulled me against his chest, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I know we haven’t talked about what this is between the two of us, but I promise, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.

I’ll be here while you figure it out, if you want me to be. No matter what you decide to do.”

I wasn’t ready to talk about what we were.

All I knew was that I was happier when I was with him, and that I wanted to learn everything about how to make him feel the same way, and that he made me feel more ok with myself than I could remember.

. . ever. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. But I think I wanted it to be with him.

Not that I was ready to tell him that.

I squeezed his hand, sitting up on the mattress. “Thank you.” I leaned in to kiss him, trying to telegraph with my touch all the things my heart was feeling but wasn’t ready to say. “I’m going to get dressed and go get us some coffee.”

“I don’t like coffee.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I pulled away, ready to take it all back.

He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “It makes me jittery.”

“That’s why decaf exists!”

“Why would I force myself to drink bitter-ass bean juice if it’s not even going to make me feel anything?”

“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes as I climbed out of bed, looking for my clothes. “What do you want then?”

He looked pointedly at my naked torso.

I threw a pillow at him.

“Ok, fine. Just get me a tea or something.”

“Do you actually like tea?”

“No.”

“You’re hopeless.”

After a quick shower in Teddy’s room and a sprint into my ransacked room to change into clean clothes, I stopped at the small coffee shop two blocks from the hotel, ordering a chai tea for Teddy and a latte for me.

As I waited, the bell above the door tinkled with another customer.

It was Mara, decked out in a rose-pink vintage dress and large, dark sunglasses.

Without acknowledging me, she approached the counter and placed her order.

Walking across the room, she decided to wait as far away from me as possible.

Ah. So the news about the production hadn’t done anything to endear me to her. I moved closer, until I was just within earshot.

“Did you see Natasha’s email?” I tried.

“Yes.” She remained focused on the counter, not even looking at me.

“Crazy, huh?”

“Yep.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I’m going to stop you.” Mara removed her sunglasses, finally looking at me.

“I know this year hasn’t been great for you, but I let you crash on my floor, I’ve done everything I could to be there for you, and now you’ve ditched me for some guy — who you allegedly don’t even like — and I still feel like you’re hiding something from me. ”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just — ”

Mara held up a hand, stopping me. “I love you, but I can’t be friends with you if you’re not honest with me. You know,” her voice wavered, “I’ve really needed you lately. And you haven’t been there.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“But I tried to tell you, didn’t I?” The barista called her name, and Mara walked over to retrieve her drink. “When we get back to LA, you have a week to get out of my apartment. And don’t expect me to help you move your creepy Babadook sculpture. Bye, Quinn.”

Then she replaced her sunglasses and was gone.

I watched her go, guilt eating into my stomach.

Getting swept up in Teddy and the mystery might have cost me one of the people I loved the most. I had lied to her, and worse, I hadn’t been there for her when she needed me.

When she’d always been there for me. But I told myself that once we got back home, I could explain and everything would go back to normal.

Once she understood why I couldn’t be honest — that I was trying to protect her — she would forgive me.

Wouldn’t she?

As I continued to wait, I distracted myself by scrolling through the usual tabloid sites.

I supposed that now there was no point in staying up to date with industry gossip, but old habits and all.

I was about to put my phone away when I came across a story that made me freeze.

It was an article from TMZ with the headline “Scream Queen Quinn Prescott Cozies Up with Reality Hunk Co-star.”

Trembling, I clicked it open. There at the top was a dark photo of me and Teddy at the baseball field, me straddling him as we made out in the grass.

Someone had hidden nearby, spying, and taken a fucking picture.

Next to it was another snapshot, this one with me smiling as Teddy stared at me adoringly. I recognized it instantly.

It was the selfie that Teddy had taken of us in the baseball field.

I’m pretty sure I blacked out, my rage bending the physics of time and memory, because the next thing I remember, I was stomping back into Teddy’s room and throwing my phone at the back of his head. It missed, crashing into the wall instead and falling behind the nightstand.

“What the hell?” He lifted his head, a crease from the pillow leaving a red streak across one cheek.

“Read it.”

“Your phone?”

“Yes.” My voice was clipped. “Read it.”

Stretching out an arm, he fished it out from behind the stand. He pressed the power button and looked up blankly. “I need your password.”

Ugh. I reached over and tapped it in before once again retreating away to a safe distance, crossing my arms over my chest. I waited for the screen to turn on and for its contents to register.

Teddy’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

“What the fuck, Teddy? Why would you do this?” All the things he’d said, last night and this morning, scrolled through my head like ticker tape.

All lines, all things he’d known would make me trust him.

And I’d swallowed them down like a sucker, while all along he was just trying to boost his career.

Willing to sell us out for more fame and a couple extra bucks.

“I told you how much I hate being scrutinized in the tabloids, how all I wanted was to be done with this entire God-forsaken industry, and you still did this.”

“Wait, you think I sent them the photo?” He sat up, crawling out from under the sheets. “You think I did this?”

“Who the hell else could? It was on your phone! And did you call up your paparazzi friends to let them know we’d be at the field? Is that why you kissed me?”

“What? No! Even if I knew any paparazzi, I doubt they’d just be hanging around rural Virginia.”

“What about the selfie?” I tipped my chin up defiantly.

“I did not send that photo to anyone, I swear. Let alone to some pathetic gossip website.”

“Why should I believe that? You didn’t mind when they published those pictures of you and all those models.” I knew it was a low blow as soon as I said it. But I couldn’t take it back once it left my mouth, and it wasn’t a lie anyway.

“Wow.” He ran a hand down his jaw. “That’s what you think of me, huh?”

“Who else could have done it? I’m willing to believe you didn’t have anything to do with the first photo, but I’d love to hear about this magic technology that lets people summon pictures from your phone like magic.”

Teddy sat up, eyes darting like he was running through the possibilities. “I honestly don’t know. My photos don’t automatically upload anywhere else — it all lives on my phone.”

I laughed. “So you’re not even going to pretend you were hacked? You’re not exactly helping your case, you know.”

“No, because I’m not going to lie to you.” He shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t do it.”

Tears burned in my eyes. I’d been so stupid.

I’d known this whole time, had told myself on day one of this production, that I couldn’t get involved with anyone.

Anyone, but especially not Teddy. Guys like Teddy are only out for themselves.

To promote themselves, to do anything for more fame.

They use people when they’re useful and throw them away later.

I’d known it was a bad idea, and I’d done it anyway.

“Look at me,” Teddy said. “I told you last night how much you meant to me. Why the fuck would I ruin that to make a few bucks from the fucking paparazzi?” He ran a hand through his hair, that curl in the front flopping over his forehead, and my heart ached with such force I could have collapsed.

But I didn’t. I locked my knees, holding my ground.

“Are you planning to be on Love by the Stars ?” I jutted my chin toward the ceiling.

For a moment, he paused — his mouth half open as his mind recalibrated. “How do you know about that?”

“Answer the question.”

“Yeah, but how did — ”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t give me all this crap about how much I mean to you when you were planning to go make out with whichever girl those producers tell you to as soon as the movie wraps.” I turned to leave, not wanting to hear whatever bullshit excuse he was going to come up with next.

He reached out for my arm, grabbing me lightly by the elbow. “Hang on. Quinn, you’ve been the one telling me from day one that you don’t want a relationship. Forgive me for not immediately backing out of a contract for a girl that obviously doesn’t want me.”

I yanked my arm away. “It doesn’t matter! You want to be famous and will do anything to get it. This movie wasn’t enough, your reality shows weren’t enough, so now you decided to sell me out, for what? How much money did they pay you?”

“Nothing, because it wasn’t me,” Teddy said, his teeth gritted. “I don’t know what else to say. Apparently, I’ve done nothing to earn your trust.”

“Apparently.”

“Please don’t do this. Please listen to me.”

“What did you say an hour ago? That you’re not going anywhere until I want you to? Well.” I reached for the doorknob. “That’s now. I want you to leave me alone.”

And then, without waiting for a reply, I spun around and marched out of the room.