One More Time(20)

“Don’t you dare bring my parents into this,” Jenna hisses. “This is about you. I see the way you look at other women. And I’ve heard rumors about what you say when I’m not around.”

This time I step toward her and grab her arm after she finishes that line. My grip is tight. It startles Jenna. She pulls back quickly.

“You’re going to blow up our relationship because of looks and rumors?” I say. I’ve said it with anger every time before, but on this take I soften my voice. I’m not asking sarcastically. I’m asking honestly.

And I’m not asking for Bobby. I’m asking for myself.

“No. You are,” Jenna spits back, with feeling that’s all too real.

It’s painful for me to hear, but I can tell that it’s equally painful for her to say.

I reach my arm back out and pull her toward me, this time softly. Then I bring her in even closer until our lips are touching and I kiss her deeply. This kiss is not like the one we had during the first scene we shot together. There’s more aggression and intensity this time. My body reacts instantly. I know for a fact that if we were alone in a room right now, all our clothes would be on the floor in five seconds.

There’s silence on the set when I finally release Jenna. I’m too disoriented to see at first. My head is in a fog.

Then I hear a low clap.

“Incredible kiss, you two!” Polly calls out. “But, you guys know that’s not in the script, right?”





Jenna





It doesn’t really matter how many times I tell myself to calm down, the adrenaline keeps surging through me. I don’t know how many times I circled the small set before I finally left. Vancouver is a beautiful city, but I don’t see any of it. All I see is him.

I ignore the texts from my PA, grab a tea to go from a little shop I’ll never be able to find again. I keep walking. Keep trying to think about anything else.

Keep thinking about nothing but him.

Tanner as Bobby. Me as Grace. My feelings in her words, her words in my mouth. It was just acting, just a tough scene I tell myself. Just transference. It meant nothing.

So then why am I still walking?

My body tells me the answer before my brain allows me to think the truth: that kiss wasn’t acting.

It was more powerful than the first-scene kiss we shot. It was full of anger and passion. And maybe a little relief? We finally yelled and screamed some of the things we’ve both been holding onto for years. Scripted or not, it felt good. Maybe we should have talked earlier, when he’d first contacted Carrie after I signed on. It would have been awfully nice to have gotten that rage off my chest without an audience.

On the other hand, the scene was absolute perfection.

In more than one way, I think, as I absently brush a finger over my lips.

I can still feel Tanner’s kiss on them. It was like we were back in that pool where we first met, introducing ourselves and kissing for the first time all over again. He felt the same. He tasted the same. And instead of pushing him away, instead of being Grace, I’d kissed him back. He felt it, too, I’m sure of it.

And that makes everything so much worse.

How was I so turned on after he grabbed me and pressed his lips against mine? Why does he still have that power over me all these years later?

I’m confused and angry with myself. This was not supposed to happen. At least when we shot the on-screen kiss in the restaurant, I’d known it was coming. I thought I had more time, but I’d still been ready for it. This time, I was caught completely off guard.

It wasn’t scripted, and it wasn’t expected. Here I thought he was just being an asshole, but apparently he was feeling something else entirely. Although I’m not sure what. Was he truly moved by my obvious heartache, or did he simply feel that the scene was missing something? Does he have feelings for me or was that just a choice as an actor?

And if the kiss was for me, not for my character, what does that mean?

Did the fight turn him on, or is he also feeling this weird mix-up of past and present? I need answers, but I am not about to go get them from the source. The thought of even being near Tanner right now is making my body buzz all over, in more ways than one.

In the meantime, a big glass of wine and a long chat with Walter will get me through until tomorrow. We’ll come up with a plan. If nothing else, I’ll feel better for talking it out instead of looping it in my head the same way I’ve been looping around these streets. A quick glance at the map on my phone reveals that I’ve wandered back toward the set, so I decide to stop by my trailer and grab tomorrow’s script before heading back to the hotel.

I peer around cautiously before crossing the parking lot to my trailer. I am not in the mood to see anyone from production, but hopefully they’re long gone by now. In particular, I can’t stomach the idea of Angela lying in wait for me like a vulture, ready to snatch the news of our unscripted kiss like a delicious tidbit.

Once I see that the coast is clear, I bolt across the asphalt and throw upon the door.

Then I scream bloody murder.

“Shit! Sorry! Hi...” Tanner says, frantically trying to calm me down. “Just shush a second, will you?”

I take a long inhale in, not entirely certain I’m done screaming.

“Thank you,” he says, and his sincerity halts me from making any further noise for the time being. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I was just afraid you wouldn’t talk to me any other way.”