Forever in Hollywood

by Jovana Rodolakis

  I wanted to start panting, maybe whistle, shout a couple of wows, or maybe a growl. They would all express my thoughts quite clearly at this moment. I really couldn’t bring myself to do that though. “Someone has been hitting the gym,” I exclaimed. Wow, words came out of my mouth, and they made sense and now I was complimenting him?

  “Actually I haven’t gotten to the gym much since we started filming this. Drinking, gambling, and lust have been a forefront of my priorities. This city is going to ruin me.” He laughed making the muscles in his chest expand and contract bouncing his tight pectorals up and down. I could have died at that moment and been happy. I knew I shouldn’t look, but I could not help it. To divert my attention I teased him with a little horror.

  “Speaking of lust,” Other than the fact I am lusting for your abs at this very moment. “How do you know you don’t have hoards of children running around this city?”

  “Don’t worry love, I always have protection.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and retrieved a small foil square.

  “Ugh, put that away! I’m already going to have nightmares of how you look after…since you decided to show me tonight. I don’t need the extra visual to add to my vivid imagination.”

  “Have you ever considered it might not be a nightmare? Shall I show you my O face to help with your dreams?” His eyes twinkled with amusement before his features contorted like he was in pain, forehead folded in concentration pulling his eyebrows down.

  “God, no! You really hate me, don’t you?” I covered my eyes with my hands to keep the image from flooding my mind.

  He burst out laughing. “I just love to watch you squirm. It’s funny.”

  He left to retrieve the clean shirt from his car, and I took the free minute to finish my e-mail and hit send. When he came back, he wore a black polo shirt that hid those marvelous abs. At least his chest was still hinted at through the fabric.

  We settled for watching a cheesy eighties movie and snacking on some hotel popcorn. He sprawled out on the side of the bed I usually sleep on with the bag of popcorn between us. He looked the picture of comfort. I, on the other hand, sat as far as possible on the edge of the bed without falling off.

  I kept thinking about how he looked when he stood in the doorway, sans shirt. The images that flooded my head should’ve been criminal. I did not trust myself to relax, if I sat in to close a proximity to him, he might have noticed something was off. How insulting would it be to get up and sit on the other bed?

  After the movie, which I daydreamed all the way through, Andrew stood to leave. I got up stretching my arms and legs. They were sore from the tension in my body sitting in an uncomfortable position. Politely, I walked him out the door before retiring to bed. Tomorrow would be rough without sleep. Filming was scheduled to start at six a.m. therefore I would have to be there by four-thirty. The downside of getting out early the day before, production only had to give you a twelve-hour break in between shifts, and they took that literally.

  Chapter Ten

  Toward the end of shooting the next day, Andrew approached to ask if I’d like to go to a bar with him and some friends.

  “I’m sorry, Andrew, I already made plans with Billy tomorrow night. We are going out to O’Hare’s. Would you like to come?”

  “No, that’s quite all right. Would you come out with us the next night then? We’re going to watch a little local music at this bar.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “I’ll be at your door at eight-thirty Sunday. Be ready,” he warned, but there was a playful lopsided grin on his face.

  As promised, Andrew was at my door promptly at eight-thirty. I was a little nervous; this would be my first time hanging out with his friends. Also, not knowing the caliber of the bar, I wasn’t sure what to wear and tried on at least six different outfits. A plain low cut black halter-top and tight fitting dark blue jeans won the battle. To take it from casual night out, and give it a slight sex appeal, I threw on my favorite pair of strappy leather ruby red heels.

  I opened the hotel door. “Ready to go?” Andrew asked. He always looked ready for a photo shoot, and tonight was no exception. Stylish, yet effortless he wore a blue button down left hanging open over a faded Ramones shirt and blue jeans. I glanced back at the pile of discarded clothes on my bed and rolled my eyes.

  “Yup, I’m so glad you’re driving. I need a night to unwind. After a week of battle scenes, I’m getting rather bruised and sore.”

  “Ha! That’s why some of us have stunt doubles.” Andrew’s voice echoed down the hall.

  “No way, I love doing my own stunts. Besides, it’s not like I have anything difficult to do. I just fall a lot.”

  “And that’s different than everyday life how?” He nudged my shoulder playfully and I stumbled. “Point proven.”

  “That’s not fair, I’m in heels.” I laughed in spite of myself. “So, what’s the plan for tonight, and who’s going to be there?” Curiosity had the best of me and I couldn’t resist asking.

  “Well, you know Anne and John. My manager and his wife are also coming. I’m not sure who else might show up. I believe there’s an eighties cover band playing so who knows what’s gonna happen?” He flipped his hand, casually dismissing the topic.

  “Oh.” For the life of me, I could not place a face to John’s name. Eventually I narrowed it down to either the big Norwegian or the Italian. Damn my shoddy memory.

  As he drove to the bar, I became aware of the awful music playing softly in the car. After several minutes of the singer’s voice alternating rapidly between a regular and high-pitched voice, I spoke up. “What are you listening to? Is that yodeling?”

  “Some folk music. What, you don’t like it?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “It’s horrible. You listen to folk music? How bizarre.”

  He gave an exaggerated sigh and turned the knob to a different station. The Police were on the radio. I couldn’t help myself, I already had a couple of sips of alcohol at the hotel to relax my nerves, so I started to sing along.

  “See I knew you could sing.” He winked at me.

  “Damn, if you mention it then I can’t do it any more. I get embarrassed.”

  “Hmm.” We rode in companionable silence the rest of the way to the bar. I was thrilled we no longer had to hide our friendship to make sure no one spread rumors, since I was a married woman. By Andrew talking to me on set and including me in plans to go out with everyone else, no one questioned it.

  We pulled up to the epitome of a hole-in-the-wall bar. There were no neon signs, no covered entrance, glass doors, or anything. A bouncer stood outside of a tiny black wooden door squished between two large, modern shops with glass fronts.

  After my ID was checked, we headed up a narrow flight of carpeted stairs. A pungent smell lingered in the stairwell—a mix of moisture from sloppy drinking and grime pummeled into fifty-plus-year-old carpet night after night, then sealed off each morning never getting the chance to fully dry out. The top of the stairs opened to a dimly lit long room. The crowd was gathering, but the place was still relatively easy to move around in. There was a low stage against the west wall and a long narrow bar opposite it on the east.

  There, in the far corner were Andrew’s friends and a few familiar faces from the set. Ah, so mystery man John was the Italian. Andrew led me to them and introduced me before ordering himself a beer.

  Andrew turned to me. “What’s your poison, love?”

  I looked around at the others; everyone except Thane, the other guy who played a British officer, had a glass full of their favorite poisons. Thane and Andrew had amber bottles of beer. I decided to go with something a little stronger than beer. Join the crowd, right?

  “I’ll have a rum and Coke.”

  Our group occupied the last three stools at the bar. The rest of us stood around talking and joking. I was surprised by how down to earth and funny the group was.

  The band arrived and started to warm up. The crowd grew larger, and our group got
louder. The first round of shots was ordered. I wasn’t sure who ordered it or what the clear liquid was, but I toasted with the rest of them and downed my drink.

  John seemed to take an interest in me. He kept up a steady stream of conversation, his arm hanging over my shoulder. Although, he seemed to be flirting with everyone else that passed by. Oddly, that felt comforting, I wasn’t being singled out in a good, or a bad way.

  Andrew was involved in a conversation with his manage, but looked back my way often, and his lips stretched over his teeth into a wide grin. He seemed amused by his friend’s flirtatious advances. I was having a fantastic time even trying my hand at flirting again just for the fun of it. It must have been the alcohol that made it fun. I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t concerned about the mechanics of it.

  Every time my drink was empty someone handed me a fresh one. I felt bad for not purchasing an ounce of alcohol so far, so I decided to buy a round of shots. When I handed the Liquid Cocaine shots out to the group, I got a couple of questioning glances. After they tasted the strong tonic, I got several high fives and pats on the back.

  Apparently, the shot was a success.

  When the band started to play the crowd migrated toward the stage. John asked if I wanted to go, too. and I eagerly accepted. A few others from the group joined us. The crowd danced around to the music so I gyrated my hips along with the beat.

  John picked up on the dancing atmosphere and grabbed my hand to twirl me around. I danced with him and another man who came up behind me and weaseled himself in our group. Anne and I were having a blast dancing with the men around us and with each other.

  Eventually the drinks ran dry, and we had to go back to the bar for a refill. I positioned myself next to Andrew. He leaned with his back against the bar watching the rest of us. Him, Thane, and his manager didn’t seem interested in leaving their bar posts.

  “Come dance with us. Don’t stand there like a stick in the mud,” I said.

  He looked at me with a questioning glance before turning to grab his drink. It was clear he had no intention on moving. Anne, seeing my efforts to involve the stragglers, was at my side begging for them to join us.

  His manager jumped up from his post eager to join the dancing group, but Andrew shook his head.

  “Probably not a good idea.” He took a swig from the bottle.

  I scowled at him. “It’s always a good idea.” We didn’t give him the option to say no. I grabbed one hand, and Anne grabbed his other to lead him away from the bar.

  The music was loud. The base drummed a dull thud that not only rippled the surface of liquid in our glasses, but also vibrated my eardrums. Maybe forcing him onto the dance floor wasn’t the best idea. Andrew’s face was crumpled, and he looked like he was about to take a swing at me.

  “Come on now, it’s not that bad. I can’t dance either, but I still have fun flailing around,” I shouted at him and wiggled my hips to the beat. “I can teach you some fantastic 80’s dance moves, like this...” I mimed pulling cans off a shelf and placing them in front of me. “The shopping cart!” I shouted as I continued my dance move. Thane joined in with a very convincing Robot, but Andrew didn’t budge.

  After several long agonizing minutes, he grabbed me by the waist. I was completely taken off guard and squeaked with surprise. With his free hand, he pulled me closer. When I looked up, he was gazing into my eyes with an uncomfortable intensity I wasn’t used to seeing from him. Is it anger, or something else?

  I attempted to dance with him, but his grasp on my hip pulled me much too hard against his body. If I moved now, the simple act would most certainly take on a very intimate feeling.

  He placed his beer on a speaker behind him and artfully slid his other hand around my hip. There was a strange electric current in the air that made my hair stand on end. I no longer heard the music drumming a defining beat. My new friends seemed to disappear into the background. All I could see was Andrew staring at me with hooded eyes. The intensity of his gaze was too much, and I lowered my eyes only to find myself staring at his soft, full lips.

  My heart pounded louder than the base thud from the speakers. He pressed himself closer and slid his hand up the middle of my back under my shirt. The feel of his fingertips against my bare skin made me shiver. He trailed his fingers back down tracing each knot of my spine as he went. Gently, he moved his hand up the outside of my shirt and knotted his fingers in the back of my hair. My breath caught and oxygen ceased to fill my lungs.

  Although my body was tense, something stirred deep in my core. A sensation I hadn’t felt in—truth be told—two years. Desire.

  This was most certainly not an act of friendship, or anger.

  Before I knew what happened, he leaned his head down to meet my eyes, the piercing green of his hypnotized me. His lips parted and covered mine. They were warm and soft. I felt lightheaded, from the alcohol or the rapid pace of my breathing, I couldn’t tell. His lips moved urgently against mine. My body sank into the curve of his, no longer aware of how closely I was pressed against him.

  The taste of hops and scent of beer on his breath engulfed me; it was bitter but sweet at the same time. I could barely breathe. Then I realized this was exactly what I wanted. How could something so incredibly wrong feel so incredibly right?

  With our first kiss, I knew we effectively crossed the line that separated friends from lovers. There would be no going back now. Simple as this one act was, it would forever change our relationship.

  It took me several seconds, maybe minutes, I couldn’t tell, to remember we weren’t the only two people in the room. There were cast and friends standing a few feet away. What were they thinking? Was the rumor mill already in motion?

  I reluctantly unwound my arms from around his neck, dragging my fingers over his broad shoulders to his firm chest. His smooth pectorals felt nicer under my hands than I ever imagined, so hard and strong. How would they feel against my bare chest touching my sensitive nipples? Stop it. Stop thinking that way. Determined to put an end to this, I pushed against his chest to squirm out of his grasp.

  If things stopped now, maybe I could salvage this train wreck of an evening. This whole act was under the influence, unable to exercise self-control. He’d come to his senses soon enough and in due time we would laugh about the incident.

  His brows knit together as he searched my eyes for reasoning behind my rebuff. I looked away and gestured with a nod toward the rest of our group. “That’s going to be really hard to explain to them.” It was as good of an excuse as any. “Besides, you’re drunk. I don’t think you realize what’s going on.” Hell, even I didn’t know what was going on.

  He moistened his lips with his tongue. I held my breath as he leaned forward to speak into my ear. “We don’t have to worry about them starting rumors on set.”

  He placed his lips back on my skin, this time moving them from the nape of my neck to my earlobe in a slow and steady pace. Cold chills ran up my spine making me shiver at the gentle feel of his silky lips on my body. I tilted my head back stretching my neck longer, giving him more of a canvas to move over. He trailed his fingers across my collarbone with the softest touch. I froze. I felt myself losing control. I wanted him more than anything—here and now. As he pulled me against his body, I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

  I tried to concentrate, needing to think clearly. This couldn’t happen. There would be repercussions if we continued along this path. Our working relationship and my reputation on set would be marred by this single action. My biggest fear was this hasty, alcohol-induced action would irrevocably harm our tenuous friendship. And this wasn’t something I wanted to risk losing.

  With both hands this time, I pushed him off again. “Wait, we can’t do this. I can’t go there.” I gasped for air, shaking my head to try and will the urges back under control.

  “Why?”

  “I-I have to think…I need to sit down.” He untangled his fingers from the back of my hair and walked me around to
the bar. One large hand cupped my elbow as he guided me from the dance floor. When I looked up, his gaze was fixated on me. I slumped on an open bar stool and he stood over me.

  “Do you want another drink?”

  I shook my head. That would be counterproductive at this very moment. I had to keep a clear head to ascertain what was going on. If I could only sleep and let the alcoholic haze dissipate, maybe I’d have a clearer picture of the situation.

  The rest of the group was still on the dance floor laughing and moving with the crowd. They must have seen, there was no way not to see two people practically dry humping not two feet away from you.

  I was ashamed. Ashamed I’d not stopped him when he leaned down. Ashamed I wanted nothing more than for him to continue. I chewed on my bottom lip.

  Andrew brushed the tiny hairs from my ear. “I’m not sorry about what just happened.” My breathing sped up again. I could almost feel his lips on my ear and God help me; I wanted them on my skin again.

  At my continued silence, Andrew shifted. His eyes darted around the room. His friends gathered around us. I clutched the sides of the barstool with my fingers, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed with them around. I was terrified someone might mention what happened.

  John stumbled his way toward me and draped an arm around my shoulder. “I like her, Andy.” He used my shoulder to help steady himself, putting far too much weight on me. When he turned to talk to the bartender, he lost his balance and yanked me off the barstool as he moved. Andrew was now glaring at his friend’s clumsiness and close proximity to me.

  “Can we talk then?” Andrew offered his hand.

  Talk. Talking was good. We had to admit our mistakes here and blame it entirely on the alcohol. Maybe then we might have a chance to save our poisoned, writhing friendship.

  I took his hand and ducked from under John’s wobbly arm. Andrew led me out the back door past the small cluster of smokers. I wrinkled my nose, knowing the smell of thick smoke would cling to my hair and clothes.