The Stand-In(71)

“Did I or did I not say the words Are you ready?” He straightens up.

“You did,” I admit.

“You said you were. You said yes.”

“I thought I was!”

He looks at me, suddenly more serious. “If you truly don’t want to kiss me, I won’t force you. This is up to you.”

C’mon, Gracie. I rub my arms to ground myself while staring at his lips.

“I kiss Fangli like this almost every day onstage,” he offers. “Try thinking of it like kissing a mannequin.”

“That’s not helpful but thanks for trying.” A mannequin. That might work. I motion him forward.

The moment his face comes close to mine, I see the issue. Mannequins are not people with warm lips and eyes that flicker across your face to see how you’re reacting. I burst out with nervous giggles. “Sorry.”

Sam has the long-suffering expression of a man who simply wants to get to work. “I see the mannequin idea was a bust. Glad you find this funny. We have an hour.”

“Right.” I try to wipe the smile off my face but when he gets close again, I have to squish my lips together to try to physically stop the cackling.

This time, Sam doesn’t give me time to recover. He takes my face in his hands and covers my mouth with his.

There is no action he could have taken to make me stop laughing faster. One hand traces down to my neck, and then around the back of my head in that move that looks so sexy when I see it on the screen but in real life always felt like being trapped. Not with Sam. With Sam, it feels as good as I always thought it would, possessive but gentle. He’s claiming me.

How can you not respond when a man kisses you like that? I stop thinking that this is a character named Jimmy fake kissing a character named Lin for a fake scene for the marketing team because Sam is kissing me. Instead, I step in closer, my hands running up his arms. His muscles tense under my touch.

How long does it last? I don’t even know because I’ve never been so lost. Finally, he pulls back but then leans his forehead against mine for a brief moment, eyes closed as if he’s thinking of the kiss that only just passed.

I’m wrecked. My knees are weak. I have never been kissed like that before, and I know that my eyes are huge and they are broadcasting all the feelings I have but wish I didn’t.

“Ah, is that… Does that work?” Even my voice is hoarse.

Sam gives his head a little shake. “I think so. I forgot to record it.”

“What?” It comes out as a squeak.

“To check the angles.” He rubs his chin. “You need to keep your head tilted for the camera. It’s a bit different than on the stage.” He sounds unaffected, because we are acting.

Have I ever deflated so quickly? While I was lost in the moment, he was thinking about how it would look on-screen. Because this is a job to him, idiot. How many times do I forget this? Too many.

“Are you ready?” Sam is now standing near the mirror. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to watch us so you can decide how you want to look.”

This time when I laugh, I can barely stand up. “This is the most unsexy thing ever.”

He points at the mirror. “It’s supposed to be unsexy. You have lights on you. People are watching. Thank God it’s not a sex scene.”

I think my eyes might fall out of my head. “I couldn’t.”

“Luckily, passionate kissing is as far as we get in this one.” His frown forms a crease between his brows. “Too much exercising involved if I have to take my shirt off.”

I join him at the mirror and decide to take this as coolly as he is. He’s not Sam, minty-mouthed intriguing man. He’s my colleague and kissing him happens to be part of the job. How does Fangli do this every day?

This time when he kisses me, I keep my eyes open and cranked toward the mirror. My body language is stiff but his is…my goodness. Sam’s entire body is leaning over me and every inch of him screams unquenchable thirst. He wants me and no one but me. I can’t help it. I close my eyes and let myself feel the kiss, knowing I’m never going to have this sensation again. I’m almost drowning in this intoxicating sea of feeling destined for someone mixed with the impression of being caught up in a tidal wave I can’t control.

I end the kiss this time but he pulls me back. My arm is caught between us, and I snake it around his neck to bury my fingers in his hair. This time, I lead the kiss and he lets me.

Neither of us are smiling when we break apart.

“I think you have it,” he says. “Practice that script and be ready to go in forty-five minutes.”

He’s gone before I can answer and I sink into a chair, not knowing how to feel.

Then I bite on my fist and grin so hard my smile touches my ears.

Holy shit, I kissed Sam Yao.





Twenty-Eight


“I need a drink.”

We’re back in my suite and I’m curled over the table mumbling into my outstretched arms. Sam is on the couch behind me. “That wasn’t bad.”

“I survived. Do you think anyone knew?” I lift my head with great effort to look at him. “That it was me and not Fangli?”

Sam’s eyes are closed and he’s sitting with his arms spread along the back of the couch, his head tilted to reveal his throat. I try not to remember that several hours ago my lips were tracing a line down that very spot. It’s been a weird day.