Lights, Camera, Kiss Me: Episode 2
You Have a Date?
✯Ryan✯
“I have to go, Mum.”
I steel myself for the inevitable barrage of sarcasm and guilt headed my way as I prepare to leave. It’s always the same routine. As if on cue, Mum rolls into the hallway with a sour expression on her face.
“I shouldn’t be surprised you’re leaving me alone again–” her voice is high and sharp.
“You’re not alone, Mum,” I cut her off. “Mindy is here.”
I know my sister struggles with some of the more gruelling physical aspects of looking after our mother as her full-time carer, but Mum refuses to let me hire someone else.
“You’re a typical Moore, aren’t you, shirking all responsibilities and leaving a woman to do all the work.”
I rub my temples, trying to remain calm. No matter what I do or don’t do; how often I visit or don’t visit, it’s never enough to please the woman who brought me into this world. Since the day my father walked out on us, Mum hasn’t shown me anything but resentment; not even when I started paying for all of her operations, her medications, and her bills.
“I have to go. I have something on,” I tell her, choosing my words carefully.
“What is it you’re choosing over me? I want to know what’s so much more important than your mother.”
“It’s work-related.”
“You’re a damn liar. I know you’re not on set till January. What kind of son walks out on his sick mother?”
The words are on my lips but I bite my tongue. It wouldn’t do to start another argument with her again. Besides, I’m not lying. Jazz is hosting a Christmas party tonight, and she’s a colleague. Yeah, maybe I’m selfish for leaving my sick mum to go to a party, but spending too much time with her puts me in danger of becoming just like her; angry, resentful, and bitter.
I need to pull myself out from under the black cloud that’s been looming over me since I came back. I want to spend time with people who cares about me and makes me feel good - like my co-stars. Like Mac. Jazz asked me to pick Mac up on the way to the party so I’m heading straight there. It’s been a month or so since the finale aired, but I’m used to seeing her every week, either for coffee or at Jazz’s, when the cast of Hart’s Valley hung out together. Being around her lifts my mood. I need that right now.
“I’ll be back for Christmas. Goodbye, Mum.”
I take a step forward and bend down to kiss my mum’s cheek, then head out the door, trying to ignore the horrible words she’s yelling at me. Why do I even bother?
“Have a safe trip home,” Mindy says as she walks through the back gate, carrying an empty washing basket on her hip. She looks tired and distant.
“I’m sorry, Min,” I say, my heart cracking. “I have to go. I have to get out of here.”
“I know. Thanks for being here this week.”
“I’ll be back in a few days,” I tell her.
She nods. “I’ll cook us a big fat turkey for Christmas, just like Aunty Rita used to make.”
“And I’ll bring the booze.”
“Bring me a few bottles of Taylor’s Cab Sav, will you? I’m going to need it.”
Our mother’s need for a carer coincided with Mindy’s break-up from her long-time boyfriend. I suspect her decision to come back to Morwell was about her trying to escape, rather than deal, but she’s been tight-lipped about the whole thing whenever I’ve tried to talk to her about it. Maybe she’ll wake up one day and decide she’s ready to go back to the city. If that happens, we’ll figure it out. No way am I letting her stay with Mum out of misplaced guilt.
I nod, and she dumps the basket on the ground and hugs me tightly.
“It’s not true, you know, Ry. You’re a great guy; an awesome brother.”
I sigh. “Love you, Min. Take care of yourself.”
“Love you too, little brother. Come home soon.”
By the time I knock on Mac’s apartment door, I’ve managed to shake off most of the guilt from leaving my sister to look after Mum and am looking forward to spending time with my friends.
Mac opens the door wrapped in a large, fluffy white towel and wearing a stunned expression.
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you for another half an hour,” she says, stepping back to let me in.
“I made good time.” I lean forward and brush a kiss along her cheek in greeting, and I notice her tense. I quickly step back as I realise she might be uncomfortable, and force my gaze to stay locked on her face and not her towel-clad body.
I notice her eyes sweeping over me, though, and I shift. I dressed up for the party, and from the way her eyes have darkened suddenly, I’m starting to think she likes what she sees.
I swallow hard and clear my throat. “You smell like strawberries,” I blurt.
“It’s, ah, probably the strawberry shampoo and conditioner I used,” she says, twisting a wet tendril around her index finger.
“Well, you should go get dressed,” I say, my gaze dropping to the place where she’s fastened the towel, inwardly cursing myself for my weakness. Especially when her quick intake of air makes her breasts lift slightly.
“Make yourself at home,” she tells me before quickly turning away, practically running for her bedroom.
I take a deep breath and walk into her kitchen to grab a drink. One full glass of water later, I’m feeling slightly more balanced. Until the Dana, one of the writer’s comments on what lies ahead for Brianna and Stone resurface in my mind and I refill the glass. Dana was supposed to tell Mac and I about our future steamy scenes together. Now, I’m left trying to find a way to tell her we have some hot scenes coming up next season. It would be a hell of a lot easier to talk about it if she wasn’t stirring up all these… feelings in me. I’m actually nervous about shooting those scenes with her.
I broke up with my girlfriend a few weeks back, but as much as I want Mac, she’s strictly off limits to me. There is no way I’m going to jeopardise our working relationship, and I care too much about her to ever lead her on. I hope Jazz has invited plenty of single, uncomplicated women to tonight’s party. I’m in serious need of a distraction. Stat.
After downing my second glass of water, I walk into her lounge area and take a seat on the charcoal two-seater couch. Mac’s apartment is small, but she’s made good use of the space. She’s filled the lounge area with a deep red rug on the floor to match the colour of the lightshade above it, and a glass table. A small thirty-two-inch TV stood on a unit in the corner - a far cry from the fifty-six-inch plasma screen at my place. Her photos are displayed on the mantelpiece over an old heater mounted on the wall.
I push off the couch and walk over to take a closer look at the pictures. There’s a photo of her standing with two people. Judging by the resemblance, I’m guessing it’s her mother and father with her, with their farm in the background. There’s also a photo of her in her school uniform, standing with another slight, blonde girl wearing the same uniform. And then there are several photos of her with the cast of Hart’s Valley.
The photo on the end was taken the day we shot the last scene of the finale. Six of us posed for the photo; Brad, Matt, Jazz, Vanessa, me, and Mac. Our arms are wrapped around each other’s waists, and we’re all grinning. We had a lot of happy times this year.
“I love that photo,” she says, coming up behind me.
I turn to face her. “Yeah, I was just remembering–”
I break off, stunned by the vision before me – Mac has poured herself into a short, tight, ruby-red dress, clinging to her like a second skin, and strapped on red high heels, with a Santa hat to top off the outfit. Her long chestnut waves frame her face, accentuating the oval shape of her face, and her sapphire eyes. I thought seeing her in a towel was trying my restraint, but this? There’s even more of her on display now than before. Her lips are painted the same colour as her dress, and she looks like sin on legs.
“Is it too much?” she asks, looking down at herself. Her cheeks are pink as she reaches out with one finger to tug her hair behind her ears.
Well, it’s sure too much for me. My blood pressure soars and my heart rate doubles. The vision of those long, shapely legs wrapped around me while we roll around naked in her bed is so powerful, my cock grows painfully hard and I spin back around under the pretence of looking at her photos again, shoving my hands into my pockets and praying that Mac didn’t notice the rather obvious effect she’s having on me.
“Should I change?” she asks, her voice full of uncertainty. “I have a date.”
“You have a date?”
My voice is hoarse and barely recognizable, but at least I manage to say something.
“He’s a family friend of Jazz’s. It’s the first time she’s been able to set up a meeting.”
Right, the guy Mac mentioned after our Sunshine Mornings interview. Good. Good. She’s moving on. The last thing she needs is another actor like Westlaker in her life.
I turn to face her again, my libido back under control. “Shouldn’t he be picking you up, then? Your date?”
“He was going to, but he doesn’t finish work until nine. I didn’t think you’d mind taking me.”
“I don’t mind,” I tell her. “It’s just…been a really long drive.”
Not because of Mac, though. The two-hour drive from Morwell to her place in the city with my mum’s words and past actions churning in the back of my mind, mixed with anticipation of seeing Mac again, had been long for a different reason.
Mac looks contrite as she says, “I’m sorry. I should have found another ride.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
“Can I get you anything?”
I don’t think I can stay in her apartment alone with her much longer and keep my thoughts off her body and lips, so I say, “Nope. I’m all good. But if you’re ready we should go.”
It’s high time I start mingling with some single women I don’t work with.
Mac looks down at her figure-hugging dress again. “I’m not showing too much skin for a first date, am I?”
I shake my head. “You look great.”
She looks better than great. She’s smoking hot, and I have no doubt her outfit will have the same effect on every red-blooded male at the party as it has on me. My hands curl into fists at my sides.
“Phew,” she says and heads for the kitchen. “I just need to grab Jazz’s bottle of Cointreau and we can get this show on the road.”
I shake out my hands and loosen my shoulders as I follow her.
“I know I put the bottle up here somewhere.”
Okay, this is so not fair. Mac reaching into a cupboard above her head is giving me a stellar view of her arse as the stretchy material of her dress rides up the backs of her thighs. I yank my gaze upwards and spot the Cointreau, just out of her reach.
I walk over and grab the bottle for her. She turns, bringing her all too close. The scent of strawberries hits me straight in the gut, inviting me to taste. There’s a hitch in her breathing and her eyes drop to my mouth. Our lips are mere inches apart. All it would take is for either one of us to lean in, and…
I stumble backwards, putting some much-needed distance between us.
Mac blinks repeatedly, as if trying to shake herself out of the moment we just shared, then walks out of the kitchen, giving me a wide berth.
“I’ll just grab my bag, and we can go.”
I curse under my breath as Mac heads to her bedroom – a place where I dare not follow. I’m in big trouble here. I could swear she was waiting for me to kiss her just now. Fuck. She’s not supposed to want me to kiss her.
I rub my temples in frustration. I need to stop having these thoughts about Mac. She’s finally ready to move on from her jerk of an ex, and the last thing she needs is someone like me.