Fill Me (3 page)

The front door opens. We don't have to wait until this weekend. We can get started early.

I turn off the shower and meet Luke in the living room.

His eyes go wide with delight. He smiles. "I like your outfit."

I arch my back and shrug like it's no big deal that I'm naked in the living room.

He takes a long look at me, practically licking his lips. "Did you eat at work or do you want in on my delivery order?"

"I'm in," I say.

He slides out of his jacket and hangs it off a chair. His eyes find mine. They're concerned. "Is everything okay?

"I'm naked and you ask if everything is okay?"

He nods. "I'd love to throw you on the bed and have my way with you, but you seem upset."

I shake my head. There's no reason to bring up the part. Not yet. "I'm tired. That's it." I bite my lip. That's close enough to the truth.

"Well, you'll be on vacation soon. But I have to admit, you won't get much rest." He slides his arms around me. "Are you sure nothing is wrong?"

I nod.

"Because I have to say, I like this look of yours. I like it a lot." He rubs my shoulders, but he's holding something back. "Didn't you take a shower this morning?"

"I wanted to relax."

"Ally, you know I don't want to push you, but..."

"You go crazy when I don't talk to you?"

He nods. He looks so sincere, like always. I know how much he cares. I know he really does want to know the stupid things on my mind. But it's still hard to believe sometimes.

"Can you promise you'll react as calmly and cooly as possible?" I ask.

"Last time I checked, you weren't a fan of promises from Luke Lawrence."

"That's true."

"But, I do promise. What is it?"

"It's not a big deal."

"You want to wait until we order dinner?"

I nod.

"And I imagine that you, unfortunately, want to get dressed?"

I shake my head. "No, but I probably should. Unless..."

"Not right now, Ally." He kisses my cheek. "But later, if you're still awake and you're still up for it."

I disappear into our room and spend what feels like forever changing into my pajamas. It is a big deal. It's a huge deal. And he's perfectly capable of crushing me with his reaction.

CHAPTER FOUR

Luke

Alyssa joins me at the dinner table after hiding out in her room forever. She presses her lips together, squeezes her hands together. She's a nervous wreck.

I wish she had an easier time talking to me, but I'm not going to push it.

"I ordered from the Indian place," I say.

"It's so overpriced."

"I don't care. You deserve the best."

I offer my hand and she takes it. Her skin is so warm, but she's shivering.

"Ally, what's wrong?"

"It's really not a big deal." She presses her lips together again. Her gaze moves to the floor.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes." She presses her fingers into the table. "And I'll tell you, but I don't want to be talked out of my decision."

"Okay." What could she be talking about?

Her eyes stay on the floor. "I was offered a role in a play in New York and I turned it down." She fiddles with her tank top as she pulls her knees into her chest. "That's it. No big deal."

"What play?"

"Some famous play."

"Some famous play, my ass. If anyone cares about some famous play it's you," I say. She really does read the most awful, English major shit.

She smirks, but it only lasts a second. Then she's back to that same serious expression. "It's not a big deal."

"Nothing is a big deal to you."

She clears her throat. "
A Streetcar Named Desire
."

My heart sinks. "You turned down a roll in
A Streetcar Named Desire
?"

"Yes, and it's not a big deal. An actress was fired and I'd be the replacement. But it's too sudden. I'd have to leave the minute I finished shooting here." There's no pause between her statement and her hiding behind a glass of water.

"Which part?" I ask.

She shrugs like it's not a big deal. She was offered a part in her favorite play, but it's no big deal.

"Come on, Ally. Who do you think you're kidding? We both know you could spend the entire night talking about the themes in any depressing work of American literature."

"It's not depressing."

"Oh yeah?"

"Okay, maybe it's a little depressing. But why is that such a bad thing?"

"You're proving my point," I say.

She uncrosses her legs. "I know. It's a great opportunity, and under different circumstances, I'd love to do it. I'd love to do it if it was in Los Angeles and I could come home to you every night."

"Ally..."

"No, don't Ally me. Right now, I'd rather spend my time with you."

"What was the part?"

She looks at the ground. "Blanche."

My stomach drops with a thud. Alyssa would kill to play Blanche.

"Ally..."

She folds her arms. "You promised."

"Okay. I won't talk you out of it."

She stares at me like she doesn't believe me. Every urge in my body is begging me to object, but I have to respect her wishes.

"I won't," I say.

She raises an eyebrow, the tension in her expression easing. "Okay. Then why don't we set up for dinner?" She stands and fetches plates from the cabinets. "Do you want a drink?"

"Water."

She pours herself a generous glass of tequila.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.

She nods. "Tired. I really can't wait to be done with filming so I can relax."

"So you're not turning down the role because of me?"

"Can we not do this?"

I move towards her. Slide my arms around her waist. She looks away, but she leans into me, her body relaxing as I hold her tighter.

"I won't try and change your mind," I say.

She sighs. "Good."

"But, I won't be upset if you take the role."

"Okay."

"And I don't want you to reject it because of me."

"I'm not." She turns back to me. Slides her hands behind my neck. "I'm rejecting it because I want a break. I'd rather hang out with you."

"But the Alyssa I know would kill for a chance to play Blanche DuBois."

"Usually." She leans into me, wrapping her arms around me. "But I don't have the same priorities I used to have. I'd be away for six months. That's too long to be without you."

"But, Ally..."

"You promised."

"I could come with you. For a while at least. I could visit every weekend."

She shakes her head. "This is what I want."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "Positive."

Our food arrives. Alyssa promptly changes the subject, but something is still off. Alyssa is so desperate to talk about anything else. She even asks about boring legal technicalities.

I try to shake it off. This conversation isn't going to change her mind. And I want to respect her decision. I do. But I can't help the nagging feeling in my gut that I'm holding her back. I'm my asshole father, forcing my mother into this tiny box, refusing her desire to be something besides a wife and mother.

I can't let Alyssa give up what she wants for me. And I know Alyssa. There's nothing she loves more than tragic literature. She reads Sylvia Plath like it's pulp fiction. And for God's sake, she's obsessed with plays. Despite her undying love for her Kindle, she has an extensive collection of paper plays and they're all highlighted and annotated to death.

There must be a way to make her realize how much this means to her.

I sit next to Alyssa. "I was just thinking."

"You look cute thinking."

"I've never given
A Streetcar Named Desire
a proper read. You must own a copy."

"Don't start," she says.

"But it sounds sexy with the desire and everything."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a tiny smile on her lips. Perfect. She's getting excited.

"There are a lot of sexual themes," she says.

"Do tell."

"Please. Like your PhD mother didn't explain Brando's performance to you."

"Yeah, but I don't remember."

"You don't fool me, Lawrence. I know what you're trying to do." But her lips are curled into a smile. She likes talking about this kind of thing.

I move towards her. "Miss Summers, I meant what I said. I'm not trying to convince you. I just want to learn a bit more about theater from my favorite teacher."

"You could start with an acting lesson so I'd buy that story."

She laughs, her eyes are bright. I have her exactly where I want her.

I sit next to Alyssa, my body facing hers. "You don't have to believe me. But you do have to humor me."

"I have to do nothing."

"But you want to."

She folds her arms. "Maybe."

"So what about this desire?"

"Go read SparkNotes."

"But there's no chance SparkNotes will end with you on top of me."

That gets her attention.

She shakes her head, but her voice is low and throaty. "You're shameless."

I press my lips into hers. She kisses back hard, hungry.

"See, you're teaching me so much already," I say.

"Jesus, you aren't going to stop. Are you?"

I shake my head.

"Fine," she says. "Well, it's been a little while since I've looked at
A Streetcar Named Desire
, but I'll explain it as well as I can. Blanche is obsessed with being the object of desire. She's always flirting with men and taking great delight in dressing provocatively. There's a scene where she comes on to a young man. But she's got this virgin-slash-whore thing going on. When she tries to seduce a proper suitor, she pretends like she's this chaste, honorable woman."

"That sounds like a fascinating character."

She rolls her eyes. "You're so obvious." Her eyes turn to mine. There's no pretense in her expression. "I can't leave you for six months. It's out of the question."

I nod. "I'll respect your decision."

"Uh-huh."

"But I do demand to hear more about this play. It sounds awfully sexy so far."

"It is," she says. "But in a tragic kind of way. Stella, Blanche's sister, is super hot for Stanley. That's Stella's husband. But he's abusive. He beats Stella."

"That sounds awful."

"And he rapes Blanche."

"That's even more awful." No wonder she likes this play. She only likes the most awful, tragic shit.

"It's basically what pushes her over the edge. She ends up in a mental institution," she says.

"So it ends on a positive note?"

"She's completely divorced from reality, lying to herself to get by."

Her eyes light up. She gets so excited talking about this stuff. She'd be in heaven being in this play. I know I promised I wouldn't try and change her mind... Maybe I'm not trying to change her mind. I'm only helping her realize how much she wants it.

"That sounds like a complex and interesting thing to play."

"Jesus Christ."

"Okay, I'll stop," I say. "But I really do support you if you decide to take it."

"I miss you too much already."

"We'll figure it out," I say. "We can figure anything out together."

She looks away. "Well, Corine did make me promise to sleep on it."

"Okay."

"Don't look so happy. I'll think you're trying to get rid of me," she says.

"Never."

"Uh-huh."

"Really, Ally," I say. "I'll be miserable without you. But I'll be more miserable knowing I prevented you from something you want so badly."

"I'll consider it." She presses her lips to mine, a soft flutter of a kiss. "It's later. Are you up for it?"

"Hmmm. I might be convinced."

She swings her leg over mine, grinding her crotch against mine. "I might be interested in convincing you." She kisses me, hard, and I slide my hand under her tank top. My fingertips make their way to her chest and she groans, her hands digging into my shoulders, her body arching into mine.

I'm convinced.

CHAPTER FIVE

Alyssa

"Alyssa!" The director of the week yells in my general direction. It's my line. What the fuck is my line again?

I offer an apologetic smile and he shakes his head.

So maybe I'm not perfectly focused. It's Thursday. It's late. I've already been working on this stupid show for forty hours this week. Maybe fifty. Aren't I allowed to zone out for five little minutes?

I shake my head. I know better. Five minutes is a gazillion dollars in production time.

He walks over to Laurie. Shit. Laurie only comes to set if there's a problem. Everyone else is doing fine. That means I'm the problem.

Laurie whispers something to the director.

"Take five, everyone," he shouts.

There are a few groans from crew members. It's already seven. And this is the last scene of the day. We'll be done as soon as I get my head in the game.

The crew scatters and Laurie motions for me. Ugh. I meet her at one of the fake walls. I'm in costume--the skimpiest pajamas the world has ever seen, no fucking shoes or socks--and the cold concrete floor saps the energy from my body. How can it be so cold so late in the spring?

"Alyssa Summers," Laurie says in her best stern
I'm your boss
voice. "What's happening?"

"I'm a little distracted, but I'll get through it."

"You've flubbed this line five times."

"I know. I'm just tired. I'm dying to be on hiatus."

"Me too," she says.

"But I have to bring it while we're still here. I know. I know. I will. Just let me get some coffee."

"What are you so distracted about?"

My chest is tight. "Nothing. Nothing important."

She stares at me. It's friendly, but it's a demand too. "Right."