Lights, Camera, Kiss Me (Original): Chapter 7
"I hated it...seeing you with her."
Thanks to my proof-reader, Jenn. I acknowledge any mistakes in this chapter are mine and not yours. Thanks Bex for your always fabulous feedback
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"Don't say that," Mac begged. "You can't say that."
He couldn't do this to her, not now, Mac thought. She was drunk and consequently defenceless when it came to him. She'd been fighting this thing between them for too long. If he touched her she'd melt, and she couldn't afford to melt – not when he had a woman waiting for him. Not when all that she felt for him had the capacity to screw up her ability to do her job again.
She pushed her forehead against the cool glass of the car window. Even in her drunken state, she couldn't lie to herself. As much as she wished her feelings were just lust, infatuation, and the remnants of a teenage crush, they weren't. And sitting here in the dark with him, in his car outside her apartment building, surrounded by silence, she acknowledged she was dangerously close to falling in love with him.
She needed him to be the strong one here – to keep resisting her. Was it fair? No. Was it right? No. Not at all. But it didn't change the fact that that was what she needed.
"You can't give up," she told him. "You have to keep fighting."
"I've tried, Mac. I really have."
"You have to try harder."
He laughed a self-deprecating laugh. "You have no idea how hard I have been trying. This keeping our distance thing…it's not working for me. And I don't think it's working for you either. Your friends are worried about you."
"I'm fine."
She rubbed her temples, feeling her head start to pound. She wasn't fine, but she didn't need her friends to worry about her. She was worried enough about herself. If the loneliness she'd felt lately wasn't enough to alarm her, the depth of what she felt for her co-star was. Her life was like a train about to derail at any moment, and she had no idea how to stop it. This thing between them was out of control.
She felt queasy.
"Really?" he asked her softly. "Getting drunk and looking for sex? That's you being fine, is it?"
"I overdid it tonight," she admitted. "It was stupid, but I'm hardly the first person to let loose a bit too much."
"Mac."
"You have your distraction, Ryan. Let me have mine."
"That's the problem, Mac. I don't want you to have a distraction."
She swallowed, feeling the anger boiling up within her. He had no idea how hard tonight had been for her. It had been emotionally exhausting sitting across from him and pretending she hadn't been swallowed up by jealousy. But he didn't want her to have a distraction. Was it the anger or the alcohol making her feel violently ill right now? Why was everything spinning all of a sudden?
"That's not fair," she told him, holding onto the car seat for dear life. "You know that's not fair."
Of course Ryan knew it wasn't fair. None of this was fair. It wasn't fair they'd had to cut their friendship off at the knees because of this attraction between them. It wasn't fair that he couldn't touch her without feeling desire rush in and overwhelm him. It wasn't fair that he'd done everything he could these past few months to get on top of what it was he'd felt for her and nothing had worked. Nothing! These feelings weren't going away.
"You have Cindy," she said to him. "She's nice. I like her. You're going to break her heart."
"She knows this is nothing serious."
"I'm sure that will be a comforting thought when she's crying her heart out over you in the middle of the night."
Ryan stared out the windshield. The women he saw knew what the deal was from the beginning. He made sure they did. It wasn't like he led them on or promised them the world. They knew from the get-go that he never wanted anything serious. He hated expectations; he hated the disappointment that always inevitably came with them. Avoiding that feeling of letting someone down – of not feeling good enough, had always worked for him. He hoped spelling it out for the women he saw worked for them too, but hearing Mac say he was going to break Cindy's heart made him feel like a heel.
Cindy was supposed to be his distraction and his cover when it came to his friends, but here he sat, completely undistracted. He was going to have to end things with her. Mac was right. Cindy was nice, and even if she had agreed to what he'd offered it didn't mean she wouldn't end up wanting more from him. Just like Mac would.
Mac would want more from him than a quick fling, and because he liked her so much – cared about her so much – he would try and give it to her, too. When he failed, she'd be disappointed, or angry, whichever one came first. And he'd be left feeling like crap because he'd let her down, because he'd hurt her just like Westlaker had, when he'd promised himself he wouldn't.
So, was he really done fighting this? No. He had to keep fighting this. For Mac. He wouldn't do what Westlaker had done – use her until he grew tired of her.
"I'll…try and keep fighting it," he said to her. "But that still leaves us with a problem."
He still couldn't touch her and keep everything he felt for her in check. He never got to explain this to her, however, because she suddenly threw open the car door and puked her guts up. He was out of the car and by her side in a flash.
"It's alright," he told her, helping her out of his car.
Mac was very thankful that she missed stepping in the pile of her vomit as she clutched her purse to her and took a step away from Ryan's car. Vomiting in front of the hottest guy on Aussie TV was pretty damn humiliating, but stepping in it – that would have been the cherry on top of the worst night she'd had in a while.
When they got to the stairs, he scooped her up so that he was holding her bridal style. She'd told him not to come up, but she hardly had to worry about him making a move on her now. She probably smelled gross and looked worse.
"Put me down now," she mumbled, once they reached her door.
He put her down, but kept his arm wrapped around her when it became obvious to both of them that she couldn't stand by herself. He took her purse off her with his spare hand and fished about for her keys. Instead of finding her keys, however, he found the strip of condoms she'd thrown in there earlier.
"Geez, Mac. Six? Really?"
"It's been a while," she told him. "I thought I might need them."
It was so damn messed up, Ryan thought. He was holding up a woman who was completely trashed and he still wanted her – he felt the swing of lust like a good, hard kick to the gut. He had it bad. He had it so, so bad. He quickly put the condoms back in her purse and went back in for the keys. As soon as he got them inside her apartment, he threw her purse onto the couch and started walking her towards the bedroom.
"Uh-uh," she said to him. "I want to brush my teeth."
"You can't even stand."
"I'm not going to bed without brushing my teeth."
He helped her walk in to the bathroom where he sat her on the edge of the bathtub while he put toothpaste on her toothbrush for her.
"Water. Can you get some water please?"
Ryan went into the kitchen to look for a water glass. Once he found a cup he filled it before walking back into the bathroom with it. She looked so down, so vulnerable and sad as she sat there, balanced on the edge of the bathtub, that he felt something wrap around his heart and squeeze it. He put his arm around her and helped her walk out, guiding her into her bedroom where he sat her on the bed.
A wave of tiredness crashed through him. It had been a long day and he felt far too tempted to get into the bed with her. But as much as he wanted to sleep right now, he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long. She lay down on the bed and he picked up her feet and laid them across his lap so he could take off her shoes.
"I'm sorry," she said to him as he fiddled with the buckle on her shoe. "About the vomiting, and the drunkenness. About asking you to drive me home when you're on a date."
"Don't worry about it. What are friends for?"
"Are we friends?"
Her eyes were closed, shutting him out of her head. He’d give a lot to know what was she was thinking at the moment. He'd suggested they should keep their distance, and at the time he'd believed it was for the best. Now, however, he couldn't help thinking that staying away from her had been a big mistake. The desire he felt towards her had only grown with the distance he'd kept between them, and after hearing what Jazz had said tonight, he suspected Mac missed him just as much as he missed her.
Even if he'd decided he had to continue to fight what it was he felt for her, he didn't want to keep his distance anymore. He didn't know how he could be around her and not act on the attraction between them, but he had to try. Besides, if she was going to do things like get drunk and go out looking for sex, she'd need someone to watch her back, someone to look out for her. She needed him around.
"Of course we're friends, Mac," he told her firmly.
"Friends that don't see each other?"
"That's going to change," he promised her.
She didn't say anything. Had she gone to sleep? He went back to trying to get her shoes off.
"I'm lonely," she said to him.
"You'll find a distraction," he said to her.
"I hated it…seeing you with Cindy."
Ryan felt his chest squeeze tight once more. Jazz had been right. Mac was sad; sad and lonely, and he'd managed to make her feel ten times worse by bringing someone with him tonight. Guilt clutched at him.
"I know I'm not supposed to care," she said to him.
He wanted to comfort her, hold her. But that would lead to more – the type of more that would satisfy both of them short term, but nothing that would lead to any good long term. She was vulnerable and probably not entirely with it at the moment. She likely wouldn't even remember this conversation in the morning.
"Shh. Try and get some sleep," he told her.
"I shouldn't want to be with you," she said to him. "I shouldn't feel the way that I feel about you."
Did his stomach just do a somersault? Ryan couldn't remember the last time someone had made him feel as nervous as Mac did. He was just debating the ethics of asking her exactly how she felt about him when he heard her start to snore softly. Ridiculously disappointed, he finally worked one shoe loose, then the other, before he slid out from underneath her feet and covered her with the sheet and blanket on the bed.
"Night, Mac," he said to her, unable to resist the impulse to sweep the hair off her forehead.
His gaze lingered for a moment on her mouth before he reluctantly turned and walked away.
* * *
Saturday was a complete write-off for Mac. It was a good thing she wasn't needed in the studio because she didn't think she could have made it out of bed if her life depended on it. She'd been relieved to wake up and see that she was still dressed. She was going to assume that Ryan had helped her into her apartment and put her into bed because she didn't remember much past leaving the restaurant.
Late in the afternoon Jazz called to check up on her.
"I'm sorry I didn't make it to the club," Mac told her.
"I never expected you to. You were so drunk you couldn't walk properly."
"I know."
"I've never seen you drink like that."
"And now I know why I usually don't do that," Mac said, rubbing her temples as she spoke. "So, how was the rest of the night? You guys went without me right?"
"Yeah…we actually ended up at Dolls House because Vanessa wanted somewhere closer than The Spice Club, and we assumed you weren't going to make it. Anyway, the music was too loud and it was so packed we couldn't dance. You would have hated it. We didn't stay for long."
Mac suspected Jazz was playing down the evening, but Mac loved her for it. The last thing she wanted to hear was that they'd all had an absolute blast without her.
"Did Ryan make it there okay?" Mac asked.
"Yeah, though he and Cindy left a few minutes after he got here."
Mac nodded. The idea of Ryan and Cindy going home together made her feel like throwing up all over again.
"Speaking of Ryan," Jazz said to her. "I was talking to him earlier today and he suggested we do a barbeque tomorrow. You up for it?"
"Oh…um…"
"He thought we could go to your place and then on to Fawkner Park, though it's supposed to be hot so we'll need to do it early on in the day."
"Ryan suggested you should come here for a barbeque?" she asked, feeling poleaxed.
"If that's alright with you. He said he's been missing hanging out. Can you believe it?"
No, no she couldn't believe it. Ryan had been avoiding her for the past few months and out of the blue he'd decided he missed their get-togethers and wanted to hang out.
"Mac?"
"I'm here."
"So, tomorrow?"
"Yeah, tomorrow is fine."
She had to talk to Ryan and find out exactly what was going on.
"Great," Jazz said to her.
Mac finished making the arrangements for tomorrow, said goodbye, and then hung up. She hadn't even put the phone down when it rang again. Ryan.
"Hey," he said to her, when she picked up.
"Hey," she said to him, feeling a slight wave of nostalgia.
She couldn't remember the last time he'd actually called her. It felt far too good to hear his voice down the phone line.
"You're up," he said to her.
"Yeah."
"How are you feeling?" he asked her.
"Um, better than I was this morning."
"Good."
"Thanks for taking me home last night," she said to him.
"You already thanked me for that," he said to her. "Do you remember?"
"Ah…no."
"Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Not very well."
"You don't remember what I said to you in the car last night?"
There was something in the tone of his voice that triggered a rush of memories from last night. She remembered their walk from the restaurant. She remembered his arousal and her own heated response to his proximity. She remembered how they'd sat in his car talking. Slowly, snatches of their conversation began to emerge through the fog in her brain.
"I remember," she breathed out. "You said you didn't want to fight this anymore."
"Yeah," he said to her. "I did say that. And you told me I had to keep fighting it. So, I'm going to keep fighting it, Mac."
It was ridiculous that his words made her feel disappointed. She should feel relieved. She could never resist him if he decided to give in and pursue this thing between them. Her feelings for him were already overwhelming.
"But I don't want to keep my distance anymore," he added. "I want us to go back to hanging out again. We're friends and I don't want to stay away from you anymore. I miss you Mac."
His voice was soft and gentle and his words wrapped around her like a warm and comforting blanket. He missed her. Just like she missed him.
"I miss you too," she said to him.
"I know," he said to her. "And I don’t think staying away from each other is helping."
She nodded. Avoiding each other hadn't changed how she felt about him. "I agree."
"So, have you spoken to Jazz yet?"
"She said that you wanted to do this barbeque thing tomorrow – that you wanted us all to hang out."
"Yeah. Though I do have an ulterior motive. I need to see you. I need to talk to you about something."
"What?"
"Our upcoming kiss."
She swallowed, heart racing while butterfly wings flapped madly in her belly.
"What about it?" she asked him.
"I'm anticipating a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
There was a long pause and Mac found herself holding her breath. "Every time I touch you…I react. I'm worried about what's going to happen when we're in front of the cameras."
"You want to give it a test-run?"
"You guessed it."
"Tomorrow? With everyone here?"
"I'll come over before everyone else arrives. What time is Jazz going to be there?"
"Ten-thirty."
"I'll be there at ten then."
"I…I don't think that's a good idea."
"Maybe you're right, but having no idea how we're going to react to each other on set is dangerous. We have to make sure we're in control of this. We have to make sure we can stop when they say cut. And knowing that we'll have company in half an hour will hopefully stop things from going…too far."
"You set up this whole thing so you could kiss me?" she asked him.
"Actually, I thought spending Sunday with everyone would be fun. But yes, there's an opportunity here and I think we should use it."
"An opportunity?"
"You know I can't wait to kiss you, right?"
She could hear the smile in his voice and her pulse skittered and jumped, before tapping out a frantic beat. She stood up and walked towards the open window in her lounge room, hoping to cool down a little.
"I have high expectations," she told him, smiling too.
"Aw, Mac, you're making me nervous now."
She laughed. "I'm making you nervous? Australia's Romeo nervous to kiss a girl? I don't think so."
"You're not just any girl, Mac."
"I'm not?"
"You're not," he declared.
She could hear no smile in his voice now. All she could hear was toe-curling sincerity. For a moment the pleasure of his words made her feel as if she were floating on a cloud. Then she remembered something.
"And will Cindy be coming tomorrow?"
"It's over with Cindy," he told her.
The relief she felt was like a weight being lifted off her. It was over between them. It shouldn't matter. But it did.
"Was she okay?" she asked him.
"No, she was pretty crushed."
"I'm sorry," she said to him, because she wasn't sure what else to say.
And she was genuinely sorry. As jealous as Mac had been of the other woman, Cindy had been nice and hadn’t deserved to be hurt.
"Yeah, I was too. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Ryan."
* * *
Mac was grateful that she had a long list of things to do to get ready for the barbeque. When Ryan had told her he was coming over to kiss her she'd felt more than a little nervous, but with every hour that had passed her nervousness had grown exponentially. She'd day-dreamed about kissing Ryan Moore since she was fifteen. Without the distraction of cleaning, she might have hyperventilated and passed out.
Once she'd finished cleaning, she showered and dressed in a blue and white sundress. She brushed her teeth twice, gargled some mouthwash and by the time she'd finished applying her make-up it was five to ten – which gave her five minutes before he was due to arrive. She used the time to pace back and forth, unable to stay still.
It's just a kiss! You need to stop freaking out.
At ten o'clock on the dot she heard his knock. She opened the door, immediately catching a scent of clean, fresh male. Her eyes travelled up over his perfect chest, to his broad shoulders, to his hazel eyes – eyes she was sure were twinkling at her, before dropping down to his mouth. That was when her stomach dipped all the way down to her toes.
"It's just a kiss."
He smirked at her. "Well, it's all we have time for."
She flushed, realizing she'd spoken out loud. All these nerves had obviously cut off the oxygen supply to her brain. She couldn't be sure she was breathing at all right now.
"Can I come in?" he asked her.
She moved aside quickly to let him through and he walked straight into her kitchen. It was then that she realized he was holding a shopping bag.
"Snags, beer and bread," he said to her, taking out the sausages and beer and putting them in the fridge.
If she didn't know better she'd say he was moving in slow motion. Everything was happening far, far too slowly.
"When are you going to kiss me?" she blurted out.
"We still have time if you want to wait a bit," he said to her.
She shook her head. "I want to get it over and done with."
"Now that makes me feel good," he said to her.
"I mean, I'm nervous."
"So, relax," he said to her. "It'll just be like two friends kissing."
"If you really believed that you wouldn't be here right now."
"Okay, so it might be a little more than that. Do you want to do it now then?"
She nodded. "Where should we…"
Ryan looked around him. The kitchen was small. There was limited bench space. Perfect. No bed and no couch around them, nowhere he could comfortably do more than kiss her.
"Here," he told her.
"Here?"
"Yep. Here."
Of course this was more than two friends kissing, Ryan thought. He was nervous as hell, sweating already. In fact he couldn't ever remember being this nervous about kissing a woman before. Because Mac was different. She was special. He knew that, even if he didn't understand why. He'd barely been able to sleep last night. He was more excited than a boy about to unwrap his Christmas presents.
He should have arrived a little later. Thirty minutes was still long enough for things to spiral out of control. But she was desperate to do it and get it out of the way, and he was desperate to get his hands on her. He heard the quiet warning sounding out from somewhere within him that said he wanted this too damn much, but he ignored it. He had to know if he could do this. He had to know if he could stop.
Mac stood completely still as Ryan took the two steps that put him smack bang in front of her. She could feel the blood rushing through her veins; she could hear her heart pounding viciously in her rib cage. Head spin. She reached out and put her hands on his chest, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, before she looked up at his face. His eyes held a mix of heat, affection and tenderness, and she was relieved she didn't have to share this moment with their viewers. It was hers. Just hers.
His thumb came up to glide over her cheekbone. "I've wanted to do this for a really, really long time," he whispered, before closing the distance between them.
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*Ducks for cover.* I know this cliffhanger is a little evil and I'm sure you guys are going to hunt me down if I don't upload the next part of this soon, so I'm going to get back to writing. Please vote and comment. Have a fabulous weekend, and thanks for reading!