Behind the Scenes

by Dahlia Adler

  “Maybe I don’t get angry enough on my own behalf,” I said lightly, nipping on his fingertip.

  Liam’s lips curled up in a one-sided smile. “Maybe. Why don’t you tell me right now what you actually think when you see me and Vanessa together.”

  “I think I hate you both and hope the set explodes.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Maybe dial back the anger just a little bit.”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I hate it.”

  “I know,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “I promise, I’ll make it go away. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”

  “Liam, there’s no way to—”

  “Shh.” He put a finger over my lips. “I said I’ll figure it out, and I will. You know I hate this stupid shit just as much as you do.”

  “Yeah,” I said grimly, “but I also know firsthand how important it is to shut up when that ‘stupid shit’ is paying the bills.”

  He exhaled sharply and raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck. I hate this. I just want to be with you like a normal person. Why is that so much to ask?”

  I was about to respond, but I realized I didn’t want to get into this now. We were alone in my bedroom. No cameras, no costars, no Nate, and now, no secrets. Why the hell were we spending the time we had together talking about how miserable we were when we couldn’t be together?

  “Hey, Liam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking.” I pressed my lips to his and reached up to undo his top button, and then the next one, and then the next, revealing the soft white undershirt he wore underneath. “God, you smell good.”

  He smiled against my lips. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Well, that, and one other thing.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “That this would be a lot better with the Rolling Stones on?”

  He slid his hands up the back of my pajama shirt and pulled me close for another kiss. “Exactly.”

  * * * * *

  An hour later, we lay comfortably on my bed, Sticky Fingers playing softly in the background. Liam lightly traced a line on my skin between my belly button and the spot just below the little lavender bow that marked the center of my bra, which was currently bared by the pajama shirt he’d slowly opened while we kissed.

  “It’s amazing the way being with you calms me down,” he murmured.

  Funny—being with him had the opposite effect on me. Despite the laziness of his trailing finger, it felt like he was blazing a path of fire everywhere he touched, and had he attempted to go any higher or lower, I was sure I would’ve let him do whatever he damn well pleased. It was so different from the feeling I’d had on the beach with Nate, the “whatevs, I’ve known you forever” comfort.

  “Aren’t I supposed to get your heart racing or something?” I asked lightly, wondering if implicit in Liam’s words was the fact that he found me boring.

  He laughed, low and sexy, and took my hand, slipping it under his T-shirt so that it pressed right over his heart, which was indeed thumping at a healthy pace. “Trust me,” he said, kissing me where neck met collarbone. “You have the exact right effect on my heart.”

  Emboldened by the hand he’d already placed on his skin, I used the other to lift up his undershirt, which he agreeably pulled over his head, revealing his magazine-cover-ready abs. There were so many lines to trace, I didn’t even know where to begin. “What’s this like?” I asked, pressing a finger lightly to his sternum.

  “A little ticklish, but worth it.”

  I smiled. “No, I mean…looking like…that. What’s it like?”

  “Getting forcibly chest-waxed is a bitch that I don’t like to talk about.” He leaned in for another kiss, but I pulled away.

  “Come on, Liam. I’m asking you a question. Be honest with me.”

  He sighed, falling back on the bed. “You really love asking the awkward stuff, don’t you?”

  “I like understanding what goes on inside your head,” I corrected him. “So sue me. It’s almost like I have a crush on you or something.”

  At that, he smiled. “Well, since you have such excellent taste, I suppose you deserve a response.” He gave me another quick kiss, and then the smile slowly faded. “As long as you won’t think I’m being an ungrateful asshole again.”

  I raised my eyebrows as if to say, “I promise nothing,” but curved the corners of my lips so he’d know I was kidding.

  “It’s weird. I mean, obviously it’s nice not to be ugly, but it feels ridiculous to have things handed to you because you look good, especially since I have absolutely nothing to do with my appearance. I look like a less bloated version of my dad, minus the eyes which are one hundred percent my mom’s.”

  “You get points for being less bloated,” I pointed out. “You do run every morning.”

  “Yeah, but that’s more to burn off steam than anything else. The rest is just genetics. Who wants to be liked for the random outcome of the genetic lottery?”

  “We’re all random outcomes of the genetic lottery,” I pointed out. “My facility with languages totally comes from my dad, and we both know how much you love my French.”

  Liam made a face. “Al, I’m sure your dad is great, but please do not ever mention him and French in the same sentence.”

  I laughed. “It wouldn’t be gross if you didn’t have the brain of an eight-year-old boy.”

  “But I do,” he pointed out with a grin. “And yes, I am very grateful to your parents for creating you exactly as you are. I’ll be sure to send them a thank-you card with a lovely bottle of Dom.”

  “They will be elated to know that you can procure alcohol with ease, let me tell you.”

  He smiled and leaned in to kiss me, long and slow this time. When he finally pulled away, he said, “The worst part is never knowing why people like you, if it’s just because of how you look. There’s a reason I didn’t do much dating before you.”

  “I have the same problem with never knowing if guys are going for me just to get closer to Van,” I admitted. “My first real kiss in the seventh grade was with a complete creep who suggested immediately after that we invite her over and play Spin the Bottle.”

  “Gross. I hope that guy remains a virgin forever.”

  “I heard he already lost it to Gail Thurber in the parking lot at Disneyland, but I choose to believe that’s a lie for a whole plethora of reasons.” I traced the lines of his abs with my index finger, marveling at how smooth the skin was there. “So how’d you know I was a safe bet?”

  “I didn’t know,” he admitted, shivering slightly as I grazed what must’ve been a ticklish spot, “but the fact that you’ve been best friends with my costar basically since diapers seemed like a decent sign you weren’t after my D-list fame and fortune.”

  “Oh, come on,” I teased. “You’re a solid C-minus.”

  “Maybe once Daylight Falls gets picked up,” he conceded with a smile. “Anyway, usually the first sign that someone just wants to hook up with a celebrity is that they’re, ya know, actually nice to said celebrity, as opposed to getting into an argument with them every chance they get.” He tapped the tip of my nose, and I scowled, which made him laugh.

  “Maybe it was all part of my master plan.”

  “Was it?” he asked, his fingers returning back to the bow, this time to trace the curves above it.

  “No,” I replied softly, tingles spreading through my entire body at his touch. “I was pretty prepared to find you an irritating and stupid Ken doll.”

  “Sorry if I disappointed.” He bent over my neck, leaving a light trail of kisses down my throat and along my collarbone as his lips slowly met up with his fingers. “I guess that’s the other side of it—you never know who dislikes you for the way you look either.”

  My breath was coming in shorter waves now, and my eyelids fluttered as he slid one bra strap down with his teeth. “I judged; I admit it.” Forc
ing myself to regain some semblance of control, I took his face in my hands and looked him in the same blue-green eyes that had soothed me from my bedroom’s tiny television screen back before we’d ever met. “I’m sorry for that. It was hard to imagine that someone so pretty—”

  “Devilishly handsome?”

  “Sure, that. Anyway, that you could also be so… sweet. And smart, and funny, and supportive.” I sat up slightly to touch my lips to his. “I felt so stupid when I realized I was into you. I was so sure it was a waste of my time. That’s why I blew up at you in your trailer.”

  “Ah, that makes sense. I just figured you had your period.”

  I whacked him on the arm. “Jackass.”

  He smiled slowly before leaning in to kiss the hollow of my throat. “What about now? Am I a waste of your time?”

  “Never,” I whispered, sliding back to the mattress as he slowly slipped my other bra strap off my shoulder and pressed his lips to the newly revealed skin.

  “Damn straight,” he murmured in agreement, and then there were no more words at all.

  14

  IT WAS A RELIEF THAT MY PARENTS were at the hospital that night, because they would’ve killed me if they (or Lucy) had seen Liam sneak out somewhere around 5:00 a.m., just in time to evade the paparazzi who usually showed up an hour or two later, although their numbers had thinned. I’d allowed myself to banish Nate’s words from my mind the entire time I’d been with Liam, but planning his morning escape around the arrival of the paparazzi had brought all the confusing feelings back.

  Nevertheless, I managed to get a few hours of sleep, and when I woke, Lucy was back and my mom had returned from the hospital, which allowed me to go visit. I was grateful for the distraction from my thoughts, though I suppose it’s a bad sign when thinking about your dad’s cancer is somehow more soothing than thinking about your own romantic life. I took that as a sign that I was maintaining the level of optimism he had requested from us and slathered on some sunscreen before heading out.

  According to my mom, he’d been sleeping when she left, but when I arrived at his room, he was wide awake. “How’s it goin’, kid?” he asked as I strolled in and sat down on the sleeper chair next to his bed. “Lots of excitement, I hear.”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, not sure why I suddenly can’t seem to keep myself out of trouble. You heard about last night?”

  “Only that you went on some sort of double date. I know your mother gave me more details, but I swear, these drugs give me amnesia every damn day. I’m like Guy Pierce in goddamn Memento over here.”

  I laughed. “Trust me, it’s not even worth remembering. Just another publicity stunt.” I looked around appreciatively and commented how glad I was to see him back in a private room.

  “You and me both, AlGal. I don’t know what angel made it happen, but I’m just relieved it did. It’s uncomfortable enough without having strangers around.” He hiccupped. “Plus, it used to drive him crazy when I hiccupped. Like I can control that on these meds.” He hiccupped again, and I started to search for a cup of water when he told me not to bother. “Nothing makes it go away except for drugs,” he told me, “and even those work maybe half the time. Drives me crazy. I just got a dose this morning so they won’t give it to me again until later. Keep me distracted in the meantime.”

  I nodded. “Detailed drama it is, then.”

  He smiled.

  “So, obviously you know the whole thing with Van and Liam’s costar outing me and Liam to the paparazzi, right?”

  “I can’t believe those words are—hic—coming out of your mouth right now.”

  “Tell me about it. So, Van tried to fix things by telling the paparazzi that it was all a lie, she and I were still best friends, and she and Liam really were together. That way, they’d back off me.” I paused for my dad’s hiccups as I explained the background information. “I, in all my Ivy League-accepted wisdom, decided the best way to prove it was to have them announce that they were going on a double date with me and my actual boyfriend, who’s really this friend of mine from school—Nate—who also happens to have a huge crush on Vanessa.”

  “Everybody wins. Hic.”

  “Exactly. Except that we all go out for dinner, and watching them is pretty much killing me, and Nate totally calls me out on it. Only to make things even worse, he ends up telling me that he likes me.”

  My dad laughed weakly. “Jesus. I mean, don’t get—hic—me wrong, you know I’ve always thought you were wonderful and wondered why you didn’t have more boyfriends, but when it rains, it pours, huh?”

  “I’m guessing that either being taken made me magically more attractive to Nate or he just wants to like me because it’s better than wanting Vanessa, who was so not into him.”

  “And how do you feel?”

  I swirled the plastic spoon around in his Jell-O. “Being with Nate would be easier, logistically. There’s no question about that.” I snorted. “God, listen to me. Being with a cute guy from school would be easier than dating the TV-star-slash-model I’m already seeing.”

  My dad laughed. “Sounds like plenty of girls’ dream scenario.”

  I sighed. “Not mine. I never wanted any of this. I wasn’t even looking for a boyfriend. The only reason Nate kept talking to me after I was done tutoring him is because of Van. The only reason I know Liam is because of Van. Sometimes I wonder if the two of us staying friends was just a ridiculous idea to start with. I just don’t belong in her world.”

  “Come on, now, Al—hic—Gal. You and Vanessa probably couldn’t have stopped being friends even if you’d wanted to. You’ll probably still be friends when you’re old and gray and she’s been the matriarch on a soap opera for forty-seven years.”

  I laughed at the image. “Maybe. But what about the boys?”

  “Doesn’t really sound like there’s a question there.

  I’m sure Nate is a nice—hic—boy, but do you like him the way you like Liam?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Well then. You and Vanessa have stayed friends against the odds; maybe you and Liam can work out despite them too.”

  I reached out and squeezed his smooth-as-ababy’s-bottom foot. “You’re a wise old man, Papa Duncan. You know that?”

  He smiled. “I’ve got the new gray hairs to prove it.”

  * * * * *

  Neither of us had gotten much sleep the night before, so it was no surprise that we both dozed off shortly after, he in his bed and me in the trusty sleeper chair. What was pretty shocking, though, was waking up to the sound of familiar voices talking quietly in the doorway and my eyelids fluttering open to see Liam and Vanessa standing there and watching me sleep.

  I rubbed my eyes. “What are you guys doing here?” I whispered as I eased myself out of the chair and padded over to the door, careful not to wake my dad.

  “Volunteering,” explained Van as Liam gave my hand a hello squeeze and stepped into the privacy of the room to give me a peck on the cheek. “Quel coincidence, eh?”

  “Is it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh, hush,” Van responded, exchanging a glance with Liam that I couldn’t read. Apparently, they were on secret-glance level now. “People of all ages and ailments are instantly cheered by my beautiful face. It’d be wrong not to share that with the world.”

  “I could’ve done without that one old lady asking me to lift up my shirt,” said Liam, “but otherwise, it’s been a nice day.” He nodded in the direction of my dad’s bed. “How’s he doing?”

  “Depends on the hour,” I replied. “His energy level’s pretty low and he can’t bring himself to eat anything, but he’s sleeping now, which is a good sign. He’s been getting hiccups that drive him nuts and usually make it impossible for him to get more than ten minutes of rest at a time.” “Hey, who’s that?” my dad’s voice suddenly asked hazily.

  I smiled sheepishly at Van and Liam. “Spoke too soon.” I turned around and walked back to the bed. “Hey, Dad. Vanessa cam
e to visit.” I glanced back to see if Liam was taking the opportunity I was giving him to slip out—my dad was clearly still too sleepy and drugged up to recognize him from the couple of times he might’ve seen him onscreen—but he stood still right inside the doorway, waiting for an introduction. “And she brought Liam.”

  “Hey, Sweetie,” Dad greeted Vanessa, mustering up as much energy as possible. “So—hic—nice of you to stop by.” Then he turned to Liam. “And you brought…Liam?” Dad asked fuzzily, and then a flash of recognition crossed his face. “The boy.”

  Liam laughed good-naturedly. “That’s me,” he said, taking a step forward. He started to reach out his hand, then thought better of it and waved instead. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Dad laughed weakly, ending on a hiccup. “Sir.

  The kid from those cell phone commercials is calling me ‘sir’ while I’m holed up in a hospital bed wearing pajamas. I love it.”

  Liam blushed, the first time I’d ever seen him do so. It was incredibly cute. “God, please don’t judge me by those. They’re incredibly stupid, I know, but I got such a kick-ass—um, really great—cell phone from them, and I needed the cash for an awesome backpacking trip.”

  “Where’d you go?” Dad asked, and I groaned. Liam had totally just hit on one of my dad’s favorite topics. He could talk for hours about this one time he backpacked through Central America. I know; I’d heard him do it. Many, many times.

  “The Australian Outback.” Liam started to edge closer, then stopped himself again.

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “Just put some of that antibacterial stuff on your hands and don’t step on any tubes.”

  “Right.” He still had a funny look on his face, and I wondered if seeing my dad in the hospital brought back any memories of his mother. He was only eight when she died, even younger than Lucy was now, but Liam was so guarded there was no telling what kinds of dark thoughts he harbored. He squeezed some of the gel onto his hands, rubbed them together, and walked farther into the room so he could converse more easily with my dad, who was only too eager to ask more questions about his trip and share his own stories.