One More Time(7)

I don’t know how long I stand here, staring after her, before a PA holding a taco comes by and asks if I’m okay.

“Fuck!” I yell. Immediately, I feel bad for startling him; his food is on the ground and he’s unable to make eye contact. I want to say, No dude, I am not okay. I just met a total stranger that I used to know as well as my own heart. I want to say, I haven’t been okay in ten years. I just want a chance to say I’m sorry, but the person that I need to apologize to won’t stop and listen.

I run a hand through my hair and try to gather my shit.

“Look, bloke, I’m sorry,” I say to the poor PA who’s still standing there, his mouth open wide as he stares at me. “I’m hangry. I took it out on you. I’d love a taco.” I don’t fucking want a taco. But he seems happy to be able to help, and at least he’s not staring at me anymore.

I take a deep breath in and then let it out slowly.

It takes a lot to shock me, but Jenna just accomplished the task. I can’t remember ever seeing her so certain and strong. And it honestly didn’t even sound like she rehearsed that little speech. She just waltzed right up to me and let it all go. Apparently a person can fundamentally change. I don’t know whether Jenna Stahl went to a therapist or a witch doctor, but someone turned her into a completely different person.

Maybe it’s a sign that everything I did back then—or didn’t do, rather—was the right thing after all.

Unfortunately for me, the only thing changed is her personality. Because the rest of her is even more drop-dead gorgeous than she was the day I met her at that pool. And I’m ready to follow her into the deep end all over again.

Or maybe I already did, because I feel like I’m drowning now that she’s soaked all my plans.

“Here, man,” the PA says, reappearing with a taco and a bottled water. “Break a leg for the rest of day one!”

Day one. How many days does that leave me to find the girl I knew in the woman I see now?

There are a dozen people in front of her in line, and at least the same amount behind, plus a sea of people casually eating lunch and chatting all around. But all my eyes will focus on is Jenna.

All this time worrying about how she’ll fit in here, and instead I’m the one who’s the dickhead.

But then again, where Jenna is concerned, maybe I always was.





Jenna





I grab my lunch to go and run back to my trailer, slam the door behind me, and actually breathe for the first time since my moment with Tanner. My mind is racing. My body is shaking. I want to jump up and down and scream. I want to re-live every second of it over and over again. But I also wish I’d never done it at all.

Honestly, I have no idea how I feel.

I’m a mess.

On one hand, I have never felt so powerful – so badass. On the other, confrontation has always left me quivering and anxious, my stomach in knots and my thoughts tangled up-- and that’s when it doesn’t involve Tanner James.

Thank God Walter made me practice my speech a thousand times, practice it until I knew it backwards, practice it until I didn’t have to think about the words that poured out of my mouth as naturally as though I’d only just that moment thought them.

Because being that close to him again, smelling his cologne?

It made me remember all the good things about him, too.

I just cannot believe I actually pulled it off.

I shoot Walter a thumbs-up selfie text, complete with a praise hands emoji, so he knows I didn’t choke. Even though when I saw Tanner’s sculpted face, that artfully tousled hair, I almost did. Almost fled to my trailer to cry. Almost leapt into his arms and started stripping.

Ten years, and I still want to kill him and fuck him all at once.

I grab a Pellegrino that I so wish was something stronger from the trailer fridge and sit down on the couch to try and relax. Get my head clear before I go do my job. After all, that’s why I’m here, I remind myself. Not because of him. Because of work. I only have fifteen minutes before they’re scheduled to call me for my very first scene of my very first day of my very first leading film role.

I could scream with excitement over that, but I know that I’m already dangerously close to losing my cool. I’d always thought by the time I broke into acting, I’d be confident and cool, but every corner I turn makes me feel like a giddy teenager. A terrified, giddy teenager.

My emotions are all over the place. I grab my script, and try to focus on my lines.

Of course, I have no luck. My mind is trapped in a loop, reliving the scene between us over and over. Did Tanner notice that it was totally rehearsed? Could he see the pounding of my heart through my chest? Did he notice how I swayed when he spoke—his Australian accent making me weak in the knees like it always did? Was that weird look on his face shock or anger…or delight?

And why can’t I remember what happened in that moment when I’m having zero trouble remembering what he looked like from top to bottom as I approached him on the lot?

I knew it was a mistake to let my eyes explore him as I walked up to say my piece, but they were drawn to him like a magnet. His tight t-shirt revealed some pretty serious pecs underneath, much bigger than I remember.

Tanner always worked out like a fiend before starting on a new film project. I remember loving those times when we were together. He would wake up before the crack of dawn, run to the gym for a session and then come home to me sweaty and full of energy. Did he still spend his mornings that same way? And if so, who did he come home to now?