Famous (Famous #1) (2 page)

Bloody hell!
I was wound tighter than a drum. My body was aching the entire day and there was no way I could hide it from her. I felt her breath hitch. She clutched at my face and the back of my head, pulling my mouth closer, her body arching up to mine as I fell between her open legs. She was pulling and I was pressing… God. I closed my eyes and tried to swallow the dryness in my mouth. It was brilliant.

“I’ve dreamed about touching you like this, for so long.” My character’s words echoed my own thoughts.

We’d reshot the scene over and over and I’d lost track of how many damn times or how many hours we’d been stuck in this small space, filming the first time our characters made out; just the two of us, and eight other people. I let out my breath in disgust. Not the way I’d fantasized about finally being in bed with her. I knew it was wrong to even want that for real, but every cell in my body screamed with it. It was so strong it physically hurt.

We’d spent so much time together and gotten too close to remain objective or unmoved. It didn’t matter that I’d been able to stay personally stoic on ten other films with ten other actresses, but Brook wasn’t like them. She wasn’t plastic; she was real. I felt incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to know her and learn about her life. We were so alike, with many of the same interests and she was so fucking smart. She wrapped around my mind like no one ever had and she was funny, confident and strong. She knew what she wanted, where she was headed, and she trusted herself completely. She didn’t care about making it big, and that in itself was brilliant. She was in it for the experience, and really cared about the quality of the film. Not the bloody fame.

I loved the way she stood up to the director when she didn’t agree with something. Brooklyn and I had very specific thoughts about the characters and we argued with Martin for days about how they should be portrayed. Finally, Brook had it out with him, telling him she wouldn’t do the film if we couldn’t play it the way we were feeling it. I smiled to myself as I thought about it.

“Look, this is about the pain, Martin. Don’t you get it? I’ve read the script ten times! I’ve read the novel! I feel this situation and I know Cade does, too!” She had thrown down her journal on the table. We’d tried to calmly discuss it with the director all through dinner and were getting nowhere fast. “Ryan and Julia have too many obstacles, too much distance and time to overcome to make it easy. Every move, every kiss… it has to hurt. It has to be pulled out of them both!”

“It’s my film. You work for me, so you will play it as I direct. The budget is too small for all of these reshoots.” Martin refused to concede and I watched Brook’s face tighten. I leaned forward on the table. Brook was unknown and even though we were halfway in, he could cut her and recast the role. I doubted he would, but I couldn’t take that chance.

“Martin, we just… we’ve worked on this for months, before we ever came to set and we both have the same ideas on how it should be played. I agree that a film can’t depict everything the book does, and that makes it even more important to get it right. The pain is as tangible as the love. Don’t you get that? There are a lot of things that we can do, and to do it justice, we should. Wouldn’t you agree?” I’d tried to reason with him.

Martin Deering was an up and coming director, who had been nominated for an Oscar already. I respected him and his vision, but as Brook insisted, and maybe because it was her and I, we had to play it the way it felt and it fucking devastated us both.

“I’m through discussing this. I think you guys are great people and wonderful actors, but I need you to act the way I tell you to act,” he said, anger tightening his mouth and jaw.

Brook huffed and leaned heavily back in her chair, staring at Martin for a long moment. “No. I can’t speak for Cade, but I will not play it that way. I’ll drop the film if it comes down to that. I feel it’s an injustice to the fans to sell out like that. I know I’m new, but I won’t do films for the experience of acting. It’s about telling the story, and I know the author wouldn’t want it like this. I want to tell the fucking story and I won’t make it into a joke, and I won’t let you make either one of us into a joke. They bleed. We have to bleed.” She was calm as she stood up and picked up her script, phone and journal. She turned to me. “Cade, call me later when you get finished here.” And, with that, she walked out, leaving me sitting there with a stunned Martin.

It was so fucking hot, watching her take charge like that. I felt a grin break out on my face and my chest filled with pride. I tried to hide it from Martin because I didn’t want to seem disrespectful, but the girl just hammered him. I watched Brook’s retreating form until Martin’s voice broke into my thoughts.

“Cade, talk to her,” Martin finally said. “It’s obvious she listens to you.”

I shook my head with a smirk. I wouldn’t try to convince Brook of something I didn’t believe in myself. “We discuss things and we don’t always agree, but um, we both feel the same way about this. Martin, we don’t dictate to each other, it’s about respect. You know, Brook is very mature for her age and it’s really bloody incredible to see her stand up for what she wants.” I laughed. “I mean, look at her! I agree that this is right for the film, and for all of us.” I could see the anger and frustration in his eyes as a red flush began to creep up under his skin.

“You know, Caden, if she walks it puts this whole thing on hold. You’ve got another film to think about, are you sure you want to threaten me?”

I offered a small smile and met his gaze steadily. “What? I’m not threatening you. I’m just saying that I know how this is supposed to go down and I won’t work with anyone other than Brook. It wouldn’t feel right. So, if she goes, I do, too,” I said quietly. “So, the schedule on my other film won’t suffer. Why don’t you just let us go with it for a scene or two and see how we do?”

I could see how pissed he was and I felt sorry for him, in a way. After all, this was his film and he was responsible for the end result. “Production costs money, Cade.”

“Yes, I know. If we have to redo the scenes, I’ll reimburse you from my salary.”

“Are you sure this is about the film? I warned you about staying away from her and you’ve done a piss-poor job of it.”

I stood up and pushed my chair into the table. “We all want the movie to be the best it can be. Just give us a shot to show you in one scene. As far as Brook is concerned, she’s an amazing person, a very good actress, and we’ve become close friends. Beyond that, it’s really none of your business.”

Martin had no choice but to listen and the next day we proved our point.

I knew at the audition and then throughout the three months before pre-production began, that Brook and I were going to be tight. We’d been in contact on a regular basis, delving into the characters for weeks before we’d gone to Canada to begin filming. We were good friends before we ever hit the set, and now, infatuation had turned to some sort of burning love. At least, it had for me. I felt palpable tension with Brook whenever we were together and couldn’t deny myself the small hope that she could be feeling the same thing. But, at this point, it was a dream that was slowly slipping between my fingers as our time together dwindled. I was starting to feel a constant veil of desperation hanging over me at the pending loss of her presence in my life.

Now, after we’d played it and replayed it, take after take, I sat on the edge of the bed trying to get control of my errant body and labored breathing. I was shaking as I turned away from Brook and tried to get a grip on myself. She sat on her knees on the bed, waiting while Martin spoke to the production manager about the lighting and camera angles. Both of us were sitting in stunned silence. The last take of the scene had gotten so bloody hot. Ryan had finally touched Julia intimately in the story, and that meant I had touched Brook. I could feel her heat on my fingers, seeping through her clothes, feel how slippery the flesh beneath the fabric of her sweats had been. I’d had a raging hard-on all day and I was unsure how much more I could withstand. I felt so ridiculous and embarrassed, afraid of Brook’s reaction. She felt it, too. I felt the tangible proof.

“Cade…” She scooted toward me. “Last night—and just now—I’m sorry,” Brook said softly, but knowingly.

“Please don’t, Brook. You didn’t do anything to apologize for.” I shook my head and kept my eyes averted, staring at the fake window in front of me. I couldn’t look at her. She had so much skin showing, more than she ever did when we were alone in one of our rooms practicing and it was more than I could take, regardless of the others around us.

“I just—” she struggled for words and sat down fully on the bed, crossing her legs in front of her. “I don’t like this strain between us. You’re… well, you’re one of my best friends. Maybe the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Best friends fighting the love, like the characters we were playing
. Well, I’m bloody in love with you,
my mind screamed
.

I threw my head back and looked at the ceiling. It was about twenty or thirty feet above us: just bare steel, and girders of the warehouse where they built the interior set of the Boston apartment. “Brook, I’m just trying to get through this scene and remember what the hell the truth is. I’m sorry if I seem distant. It’s the only way I can deal with it and how I’m keeping the thin grip on the little control that I have left. As you can tell from this last take, I’m not as strong as I need to be.”

She brought both hands to her glorious hair and threaded her fingers through it on each side of her head. “Do you think it’s any different for me? I’m just—”

The director had a great sense of timing and called to us from the edge of the set, a smirk firmly in place on his pudgy face, and inwardly I groaned. “Can you guys clear out for a minute? Get a drink or something while they redress the set for the next take.”

I spoke before I could help myself. “How many damn takes do you need? How many ways can we do this for Christ’s sake? We
have
it,” I spat at him. Brooklyn swallowed and her face fell as she sat there, clutching the sheet around her. Instantly, I was filled with regret at my words. “I thought you were so worried about the budget,” I said, more softly now, imploring him to stop the torture.

Martin stared up at me and crossed his arms across his chest. Brook was looking down at her lap as she started to move to the edge of the bed. I stood up and walked around the end of it and past Martin.

“I just want to shoot it with a tighter camera one time and then if it’s all good, we’ll be done with this scene. I also want to film some stuff that may get used for the other love scenes,” Martin said impatiently as I turned to leave the set.

“Like what?” Brook asked hesitantly, trepidation clear on her beautiful features.

“Well, I just want a tighter shot of the kissing.” He looked between the two of us for a second. I knew that would mean even less clothing between us.

“Christ,” I said as I stormed off the set.

“Ten minutes, Cade,” Martin called sternly after me.

Brooklyn’s hurried footsteps followed me as I walked away and despite myself, I knew she’d find a way to lighten the mood and ease this bullshit I was feeling. I took a deep breath and walked outside of the warehouse, turning the corner and went around to the west side. The sun was starting to set and it was getting cold.

It was late March and we still had weeks of filming to go. As much as Martin frustrated me, as much as being around Brook when I couldn’t act on my real feelings for her, hurt me, I knew that the day we were done filming would kill me. There were two more books, but who knew if they’d get made. These things depended on box office receipts alone. I lit a cigarette and leaned against the side of the building and blew out with force. A habit I knew Brook abhorred, but I needed something to calm me down.

“Cade,” I heard Brooklyn’s voice before she appeared around the corner. She’d put on a robe over her skimpy costume and shoved her feet into her sneakers. Still I was worried she wouldn’t be warm enough. After she found me, she didn’t say anything. She just leaned up against the building beside me, and reached for my hand, her cold fingers closing over mine.

“Are you warm enough?” I asked softly. When she nodded, I looked away from her face. I didn’t want to see confusion or pain there and I knew I would. I should have felt elated, but instead felt empty and lost.

We stood there in silence, and soon my thumb was rubbing the top of her hand that was entwined with mine. The quiet comfort of her touch gave me center and focus. When it was just the two of us, I was fine. It was easy to push back the strain and pretend she didn’t have a boyfriend or that this wasn’t all going to end soon. I felt so connected with her and that connection was all that mattered to me.

“I suppose Martin will have our asses if we aren’t back soon,” I lamented after I finished my cigarette. I bent to press the butt into the ground to make sure it was out then popped a candy mint into my mouth. “Can he be any more annoying?” I offered her one.

Brooklyn shook her head.

“He budgeted a whole day for this scene, so he is damn sure going to use it up, even though he was whining about it before. God forbid he lets us off of the hook early,” she agreed with a soft smile, her hand tightening around mine. I knew she was silently asking if things were okay between us, and I finally let myself look at her face and returned the pressure to reassure her. She was beautiful with her darkened hair flowing and those green contact lenses, but I longed for her bright blue eyes. Those gorgeous eyes claimed my very soul during all of those hours of running the scenes. When I’d met her, she was blonde, but she was beautiful, either way.