Lights, Camera, Kiss Me: Episode 3

Can't Act on This

❤️Mac❤️

The night's mellow warmth wraps around me as Jazz's Christmas bash gets into full swing. I mentally nod in appreciation to the December evening; it's so mild that I can comfortably flaunt my sultry red dress without needing an extra layer. Jazz's backyard transformation looks like something straight out of a Christmas dream. Music from top-notch speakers fills the air with festive carols, and overhead, a kaleidoscope of lanterns paints stories of Christmas wonder. The rhythm of the evening is infectious. Everywhere I look, people are lost in their groove, their laughter and dance moves testifying to a night well spent.

On the surface, I'm the epitome of holiday cheer – laughing at the right jokes, sipping my drink, and sharing festive anecdotes. My face wears a practiced smile, blending seamlessly with the surrounding merriment. But beneath that veneer, there's a palpable sting of disappointment.

Unintentionally, my gaze shifts to Ryan. He's engrossed in conversation with a blonde wearing a short black skirt and a purple camisole, on the other side of the garden. I've spent the past half-hour trying and failing not to watch them flirt. I could tell myself I don’t care, but that would be a lie. I do care, and I'm struggling to ignore the sharp twinge of irrational jealousy every time I see them together. To add to my frustration, our car ride to Jazz’s was punctuated with awkward silences, which was highly unusual for us. And upon arriving at the party, Ryan promptly disappeared.

Perhaps his absence is a blessing in disguise. Being near him, especially when I'm working so hard to keep my attraction to him hidden, might not be ideal. I vividly recall the memory of how closely we stood in my kitchen... For a fleeting moment, I forgot all my self-imposed rules about leading men being off-limits. I nearly melted into him, silently pleading for a kiss. I can't let myself get lost in such moments. He’s my friend, my co-star, and-

“Mac?”

I snap out of my thoughts, turning to see the man next to me — my date. He's who I should be focusing on. Jazz's choice, Doctor Dale Morgan, is traditionally handsome. He fills out his black shirt and leather jacket, indicating he definitely works out. He has striking blue eyes and dark blonde hair. Over the past two hours, I've discovered he’s articulate, intelligent, and even better, he won over my friends quickly. It’s hardly fair to him, and in no way a reflection on his suitability, that Ryan so effortlessly commands my attention.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I missed that.”

“Don’t mind Maccas,” Brad McDay chimes in, using the nickname he's given me. “She’s always daydreaming about something. Happens on set too.”

“I asked if you wanted another drink,” Dale repeats, pointing to the empty glass in my hand. “You’re running on empty.”

“Thank you,” I reply, offering him a grateful smile. “I’d love another one.”

As Dale takes the glass and departs, Jazz leans in. “Isn’t he perfect?”

“He’s great, Jazz,” I affirm.

"He is. His last girlfriend cheated on him with his cousin. He deserved so much better than that."

I nod, agreeing with Jazz. She set this up, believing we'd be a good match, and so far, I can't find any fault with Dale. I need to work harder at focusing on my date.

“Where’s Moore?” Brad wonders aloud, addressing no one in particular.

“He’s hitting on some girl named Kelly,” Matthew Caffney points out. “They’re over… there.”

I manage to resist the urge to glance in Ryan's direction. Barely.

“Chloe,” Jazz corrects Matt. “Her name is Chloe.”

“Women’s names blur together when you’ve had as many as I’ve had,” Matt jests.

“Or as many as Moore has,” Brad quips, chuckling.

“I swear Ryan gets more-” Matt begins, but Vanessa Rodgers interrupts him with an elbow to the ribs and a stern look.

Vanessa, the quietest among the Hart’s Valley cast, often reins in the guys. They occasionally drift into offensive territory.

“Sorry, Nessie,” Matt says, drawing Vanessa close. “Forgot you were here.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at the recurring joke, but a smile plays on her lips.

“You know I’m right, though,” Matt can't resist adding.

“What happened to the model?” Vanessa inquires about Ryan’s recent ex.

“They broke up,” I reply.

“I know, but why?” she presses.

I shrug. “No idea.”

“He got bored, probably,” Brad offers.

“He got bored?” Vanessa elongates the word 'bored,' sounding slightly disgusted. “They were together for what? A month? Two months?” Vanessa pushes further.

“Variety is the spice of life,” Brad remarks. “I’ve never known Moore to be with anyone longer than three months. That’s his specialty: short, monogamous relationships.”

Brad and Ryan have been friends for a while, having worked together on the series "Wild Horses" a few years back.

“That’s not a need for variety,” Vanessa counters. “That’s a fear of commitment.”

“The Psych Major is out again,” Matt jokes.

Vanessa's pursuing psychology through a well-known online university, and the guys love to tease her about it, particularly when she analyses their behaviour. I've often wondered if Ryan does have commitment issues. It's yet another reason I need to resist my attraction to him. Beyond the professional risks of a relationship with Ryan, I can't realistically expect anything between us to last beyond a few months. Even thinking of a few months is probably overly optimistic.

"You know I’m right," Vanessa echoes, borrowing Matt’s phrase from earlier.

“Ryan’s not a commitment-phobe; he’s just a normal red-blooded male,” Brad jumps to Ryan’s defence.

“You don’t sleep with every woman you meet,” Vanessa points out to Brad.

“Neither does Ryan,” Brad retorts quickly. “He hasn’t slept with any of you.”

“Because he’s not an idiot,” Jazz chimes in. “Sleeping with the people you work with-”

“Is a no-no,” I interject, completing her sentence. “Trust me on that one.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Jazz says, comforting me with a gentle rub on my arm. “Everyone’s done it once.”

“I’ve done it,” Brad admits to me, a confession I've heard from him before.

“I’ve done it too,” Vanessa reveals, her lip caught between her teeth.

Despite all the hours we've spent together, both on and off-set, there’s a lot I don’t know about Vanessa. She's typically reserved about her personal life. Now, as she appears to let her guard down slightly, my curiosity peaks.

“What happened?” I can't help but ask her.

“Ah, I started to fall for him…so I dumped him.”

“You started to fall for him, so you dumped him?” Matt repeats, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I knew I felt more for him than he did for me, so I broke up with him before he could break up with me,” Vanessa clarifies.

“What do they call that in Psychology?” Matt inquires.

“Being a coward,” Vanessa self-deprecates.

“No,” I challenge, coming to her defence. “It’s called self-preservation.”

Reflecting inwardly, I wonder: had I been more observant with Danny, would I have recognized the signs? Could I have escaped before the emotional tumble? Shielded myself from heartbreak? Danny never loved me the way I loved him. Shouldn't I have seen that? No point dwelling on the past. I’ve grown and learned from those mistakes. At least, I think I have. Before I can catch myself, my gaze shifts to Ryan.

The thought of falling for Ryan feels closer to reality than I'd like. Considering my recent thoughts and feelings about him, the idea is disturbingly plausible. This time, though, I clearly see the writing on the wall. Ryan isn't one for permanence and easily grows restless. I can't afford to risk my heart or job over him. Almost as if he's tuned into my thoughts, he suddenly pivots, and our eyes meet. My heart stammers, faltering under the weight of his gaze.

“Are you okay?” I read his lips, as he silently communicates across the distance.

I nod, answering his unspoken question. What would he think if he knew my thoughts just moments ago? Ryan scrutinizes me a moment longer before refocusing on Chloe.

“Sorry I was gone so long.”

Dale's voice interrupts my musings. He'd been away for quite a while, and I hadn't even noticed. So much for my resolve to focus on him. Accepting the drink he extends, I express my gratitude.

“Work called. There was an accident on the Westgate Bridge,” Dale informs me.

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” I say impulsively. Immediately, I realize the inappropriateness of my words. “Sorry,” I apologize. “You’re a doctor. Of course, it must be serious.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he admits. “I’m going to have to go.”

“Oh,” I respond, a tad deflated.

I understand his obligations; after all, he's a doctor and saves lives. Still, this abrupt end to our evening isn't quite what I anticipated.

“Can you get home?” he questions, concern evident in his eyes. “Do you need me to give you a ride?”

I initially arrived here with Ryan, but I'm certain he has other plans tonight than driving me home, especially with that eager blonde around. I don’t want to leave the party so soon, nor burden Dale further, especially when he's urgently needed.

“She can stay here,” Jazz offers, coming to my aid.

“Or I can give her a lift home,” Brad chimes in, casual and unbothered.

“Okay,” Dale says, his relief palpable. “Mac, I’d really like to take you out for a proper first date.”

I offer him a warm smile. “Jazz has my number. Call me sometime.”

“Great. I will,” he assures me, planting a gentle kiss on my cheek before bidding Jazz and our group goodbye.

“So are you going to stay here tonight, or do you want a lift?” Brad asks once Dale leaves.

I glance at the beer in his grip, eyebrows raised slightly.

“I’ll make it my last one,” he assures, seemingly reading my thoughts.

“If you could give me a lift, that would be great.” Jazz’s guest bed is undoubtedly comfortable, but I'm not keen on the idea of staying up till the party winds down.

“No worries. I don’t mind, especially since something seems off with you tonight.”

I thought I concealed my distraction—a distraction born from thoughts of Ryan—well enough. Evidently, I'm mistaken. I just hope others haven’t caught on.

“There isn’t anything up with me,” I assert. “I’m fine.”

“You’re spacey,” Brad observes.

“Spacey?”

“You seem lost in your thoughts.”

“According to you, I’m spacey all the time,” I joke, attempting to divert his concern.

“What I said to your date was all in good fun, Mac. But seriously, is everything okay?”

I nod, reassuring him. “I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

Watching him, I see Brad quickly finish his beer, placing the empty bottle beside him. Before I can protest, he grabs my hand, pulling me towards where the others dance. Brad has long been my 'safe guy'. There's a playful flirtation between us, but it’s harmless. The kisses we shared while acting out our characters' romance last season had been comfortable, straightforward. I doubt it would be the same with Ryan, and I’m incredibly grateful there’s no scripted romance lined up for us anytime soon.

“Come on, Maccas,” Brad encourages. “Let’s dance.”

---

✯Ryan✯

“Earth to Ryan. Anyone home?”

I can’t pretend to be interested in what Chloe is saying, especially when Mac and Brad are just metres away, practically dry humping each other. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but they are definitely dancing way too close. I want to knock some sense into Brad. He knows Blainesworth’s rules, and he knows about Westlaker devastating Mac’s heart. So what the hell is he doing, dancing with her like that, putting his hands all over her?

And Mac—what is she thinking? Where’s her date, the doctor guy? When I walked in, I saw him – he looked decent enough, the kind of guy you bring home to meet your parents. What will he think when he sees her dancing with another man like that?

For Mac’s sake, I tell myself, I have to put a stop to this. I make an excuse to Chloe, saying I need to talk to someone, and head straight for the dance floor.

“Can I cut in?” I ask.

Ignoring the surprised looks on both their faces, I note Mac’s mouth falling open and her eyes widening. She looks stunned, like a deer caught in headlights. Honestly, I can’t blame Brad for being tempted by Mac tonight. She’s in that killer dress, and I already know she smells like heaven.

Every time I’ve looked at her tonight, desire has surged through me. I’ve been avoiding her since we arrived because of how much she affects me. Yet, I still hadn't been able to resist watching her at every opportunity. Dancing with her now might not be the wisest move, but it seems the only way to put an end to their antics.

Brad hesitates briefly, and I find his reluctance almost too protective, which irks me, but he steps away from Mac. “Where’s the blonde you were with?” he asks.

“Over there somewhere,” I reply. “Could you keep her company for me?”

“No worries. Just a heads up,” Brad says, “Mac’s a bit spacey tonight.”

I shift my focus back to Mac, who’s rolling her eyes at Brad. Is she okay? Has something happened with her date?

“What’s he talking about?” I ask her, our eyes meeting.

“It’s nothing,” she murmurs, glancing down before meeting my gaze again.

She's stunning, her cheeks flushed from dancing, her dark hair framing her face. I step in front of her, placing my hands on her hips. Our bodies seem to align naturally, as if made for one another, as we start dancing.

“Make sure she doesn’t step on your feet, Moore,” Brad comments, patting my shoulder. “And Mac, let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

After ensuring Brad is out of earshot, I ask Mac, “Why do you need to tell Brad when you want to leave?”

“Brad’s driving me home.”

“What are you doing, Mackenzie?”

Before I can catch myself, my tone becomes sharp, a departure from my usual manner with her. She notices my use of her full name, her eyes widening in surprise. If my tone is stern, it’s out of concern for her seemingly erratic behaviour.

“What do you mean, 'what am I doing'?”

“Dancing with Brad like that and letting him drive you home,” I explain. “I just think you should be cautious.”

Her eyes flash defiantly, her cheeks still rosy. “Why should I be cautious, exactly?”

Surely she understands my implication. “Why do you think?” I respond in a measured tone.

“I think you should spell it out for me.”

I’m reluctant to mention Danny’s name; I don’t want to upset her any more than I already have, so I shift the topic. “Where’s your date, Mac?”

“He had to leave.”

“What?” A mix of disappointment and relief floods me.

“There was an emergency—an accident on the Westgate. He had to go.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s a doctor. He got called in.”

“So, the date didn’t work out then?”

“He wants to schedule another first date.”

“Good,” I comment.

“Do I have your approval to leave with Brad?” Her voice is thick with sarcasm.

“No. You don’t.”

Her eyes flash with anger. She attempts to distance herself from me, but I prevent her.

“I’m trying to stop you from making the same mistakes with Brad that you made with Danny,” I explain. Why can't she see my point?

“That’s very noble of you,” she retorts sharply, “but Brad’s not the one I'm likely to repeat those mistakes with.”

Our dance halts. The mortified expression on her face reveals she didn't intend to disclose that. She struggles to pull away again, but my grip on her hips remains firm.

“Who should I be concerned about, Mackenzie?” I press.

“Forget it. It’s nothing. I misspoke.”

I’m not stupid. There’s an attraction—serious chemistry between us—there always has been. Now it’s evident she’s as conscious of the tension as I am. And this dynamic has remained unspoken for so long, her accidental admission is jarring. She might wish she had stayed silent, but the revelation is now in the open and both of us have to deal with it. Ignoring it is no longer an option.

Glancing around, I notice the rest of the main cast—Jazz, Brad, Matt, Vanessa—engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to us. Seizing the moment, I act on impulse: I wrap my arms completely around Mac’s waist and pull her flush against me.

“Dance with me, Mackenzie,” I say, enjoying the way her soft breasts are now pressed against my chest and her hips are perfectly nestled against mine.

“Ryan,” she whispers in a strangled voice as she feels my body respond to hers. My cock grows even harder at the way my name sounds on her lips.

I know I’m being unfair to both of us, but I can’t control my reaction to her. Not tonight. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the strawberry scent of her perfume. The music hits a particular slow note, and we gently sway to the edge of the dance area. No one can see us now.

“We can’t act on this thing,” I whisper against her skin.

“I know,” she chokes out.

“But I want to. I really, really want to,” I say.

I let my lips trail down her neck, feeling her shiver as I do so. When I reach the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat, I kiss it softly, before flicking my tongue over it.

Mac throws her arms around my neck as her knees give out from underneath her. I cup her backside, pulling her more firmly against me. She trembles and clings to me. I can hear her breathing next to my ear, soft, short breaths. I ache with the need to be with her, and the idea of giving in to this thing between us is more tempting than I know how to deal with.

When the song ends, it takes all my willpower to release her and step away from her.

“Well, this is awkward and uncomfortable,” Mac says to me.

My jaw tightens. Mac has her arms wrapped around herself. She looks so dejected, so innocent and vulnerable, that I want to take her back into my arms to comfort her. After I'm done comforting her, I want to take her home and bury myself inside her until she whimpers my name the way she did just moments ago. But where would that lead? To disaster central, that's where. An invisible line has been crossed tonight. Now we need for things to go back to the way they were before. Is that even possible?

“It won’t be for long,” I tell her. “You’ll see. You're going to go on this date with the doctor, and this thing between us will just fade away.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“It will,” I tell her firmly. It has to.

Mac still doesn’t know about next season’s romance between our characters. I had planned to tell her at some point, but now I can't help thinking it's better if she remains in the dark. How will she react when she finds out? Maybe it's best I wait until she's settled into some kind of relationship with the doctor before I casually drop it into a conversation. The fact that the man wants to take her out on a proper first date is a good sign, isn't it?

“Right, well, I’m kind of tired,” Mac says.

“You should get Brad to take you home,” I suggest.

“That’s okay now, is it?” she counters, raising an eyebrow.

Mac would be safer with Brad any day than she would be with me. I'm an idiot for ever thinking differently. I cut in on their dance with the excuse of protecting her, but the ugly truth is, I acted like a jealous, possessive, and overprotective jerk. I’d actually wanted to hit Brad when I saw them dancing together. To say this doesn't bode well for me is an understatement.

“Yeah… about that,” I begin, “I was—”

“Being an idiot?” she interrupts, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I’m sorry,” I admit. Now go before I change my mind and take you home myself.

“I guess I can forgive you. This time,” she teases.

“Goodnight, Mac,” I bid.

“Goodnight, Ryan.”