Steal

by Rachel Van Dyken

He hesitated for a minute, dropped his hand by his side, and chewed on his bottom lip. “I know.”

  “I can’t get close to her again.”

  “I’m not asking you to sleep with her, Will. I’m asking you to have a little human decency and give her confidence. How you do that, is up to you.” He walked off.

  Leaving me staring after him.

  I gulped.

  Kicked the sand until it flew into one of the PA’s faces and then stomped after her.

  It didn’t take long.

  She’d gone over the bluff and was sitting with her chin on her knees, her arms hugging her legs. She looked broken.

  Sad.

  So damn sad.

  I took a deep breath, prayed for patience, something I was lacking when it came to her, and approached.

  “I don’t forget lines.” She released her knees and leaned back on her hands, tilting her face toward the sun. “I never have.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say something about how drugs affect brain cells.

  “It’s your first job back, Ang. What made you think it would be easy?”

  “You!” A smile parted her lips enough for me to catch a flash of white teeth. “I believe your exact words were, nobody will take you but Jaymeson, but at least it’s an easy part.”

  I cringed. Yeah, I’d said that. Out loud.

  “It’s not the part that you’re struggling with.” I knelt down next to her. “You’re literally playing yourself.”

  Her attention snapped to me. “What makes you think that I’m such an easy person to play?”

  I had nothing.

  “What makes you think that I wasn’t acting then?”

  “How am I to know you aren’t acting now?” I countered.

  “I’m not that girl.” She looked away. “I don’t think I was ever that girl. I don’t recognize her anymore, and stepping into a role that reminds me of all the shit I did to people who didn’t deserve — well.” She shrugged.

  “I think we’re way past a re-write.” I said jokingly.

  She smiled again. “If only… right?”

  Our eyes locked.

  And once again I found myself drowning in the depths of her eyes. I held my breath, then jumped in face first and calmly said. “You are one of the most talented actresses I know. I just need you to know it. Because it’s not enough that it’s on paper, it’s not enough that your agent knows it, you have to show the world. And if you can’t do that — if you aren’t ready, then I need to know.”

  Her shoulders straightened. “You really think so?”

  Shit. The way she was looking at me.

  All frail vulnerability wrapped up in one shiny package that said “open.”

  “I do.” It wasn’t a lie. God, I wished I had the ability to lie to her face, to tell her I didn’t feel the current between us, as strong and swift as the ocean, as loud as the crashing waves against the sand.

  It would always exist.

  And I would always deny its existence.

  I had no choice.

  I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD what prison would be like.

  By way of my agent.

  After his pep talk where I imagined kissing him about a million times before he gave me a pat on my shoulder and helped me to my feet, he walked me back to set and watched each scene.

  When I was done and Lincoln asked if I wanted to go out with the rest of the cast for drinks, Will stepped in. “She can’t.”

  Did I call him a babysitter earlier?

  The man was like a parent.

  A prison guard.

  A hot one.

  One that oozed sexuality with a swagger that refused to go away every time he walked in any direction. Hell, the guy was going to be eighty years old and still turning heads when he walked into restaurants.

  “I should have gone,” I said once Lincoln walked off with Dani and Jay. “It’s good for the cast to bond.”

  “He’s your brother. You’ve had your time.” Will shrugged.

  I clenched my teeth and followed him to the parking lot, but instead of going to his shiny car, he walked right past it.

  Shit, he was going to make me walk back to the beach house again, wasn’t he?

  “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “Keep up.”

  “You’re twice my size!” I yelled in a struggle to keep up with him in the flip-flops I’d packed into my bag that morning. “Hey, wait up!”

  If anything the bastard picked up his pace until he reached the sidewalk then stopped.

  My flip-flop got stuck on the sidewalk sending me into his arms. I braced myself on both of his biceps. My fingers tingled with the need to squeeze and swoon into his embrace.

  Instead, I shoved away and crossed my arms. “So? What now?”

  He licked his lips, drawing my attention to his mouth. I licked mine in response. Like an idiot.

  “You did good today, Ang.” He held out his hand.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Is this a trick?”

  “No.” He smirked. “This is a hand. You take it in yours, see?” He demonstrated by lacing our fingers together. A shiver erupted down my right arm, goose bumps popped up.

  People didn’t touch me.

  But Will did.

  I forgot what warmth had felt like.

  Until he held my hand.

  “Dinner.” He squeezed my hand and let it fall against my side before he nodded to the busy main street of Seaside where families ran back and forth between ice cream and taffy shops like sugar addicts. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “For?”

  He grinned. “For actually not sucking today.”

  I smacked him in the shoulder. It was a kneejerk reaction. He laughed harder and rubbed the spot.

  “I see you still know how to hit pretty hard.”

  “And you’re still a sarcastic ass,” I said sweetly.

  “Always will be.” He winked.

  My diaphragm refused to work.

  I nearly stopped breathing.

  Why did he have to remind me how easy it had been between us? Because in a life full of harsh realities — he’d always made me realize one thing about love.

  In the beginning, it should be easy.

  Involuntary.

  Like sucking the sweet salty air through my teeth and exhaling in the same breath.

  Love was as simple as the air surrounding us.

  And between us, it had been more than natural; it had been effortless. Love shouldn’t start out hard, the struggles happen once you’re together long enough to realize that the other person isn’t perfect, and the anger comes when you blame them for not living up to expectations.

  I knew it well.

  Because it had been easy.

  Until it was so hard that I bailed.

  I didn’t recognize the dark restaurant we walked into. Will gripped my hand and led me into one of the back corners, where a table was set up for us.

  Water. Not wine.

  Just another reminder that I was to be on my best behavior.

  And like I needed another kick to the gut, Will handed the wine list back to the server and asked to have the wine glasses removed.

  “You can have wine even though I can’t,” I mumbled, looking down at my menu. “I don’t care.”

  “I care,” was all he said.

  More silence blanketed us.

  Tears tried to force their way onto my cheeks.

  The last time we’d had dinner was the night before we broke up.

  The night before he told me he was going to marry me.

  The night I betrayed us.

  I’d ordered chicken.

  He’d had steak and told me that he wanted three kids, and even though we were young, I laughed and said I wanted that for us too.

  He had no idea that I was high the entire meal.

  Or that all I could focus on was getting my next hit.

  Or that I was willing to do anything to get it.

  Anything.

&nbs
p; We were the epitome of the awkward dinner date, it was probably just as painful watching us as it was to be there.

  “You didn’t have to do this.” I closed my menu and set it on the table. “We could have just eaten at the house.”

  “We could have.” He didn’t look up. “But the house doesn’t have paparazzi that need to see how good you can be for the cameras. The house doesn’t give us free press.”

  My stomach sank.

  I suddenly felt like I was going to puke. “So we’re not really celebrating?”

  “We’re still celebrating.” Will set the menu down and reached for my hands, I jerked them both away, hating that they were trembling as much as my lower lip. Do not cry. Hold them in. Don’t let anyone see weakness.

  I suddenly took in the scene. The dark restaurant. A few photographers seated by the window watching us.

  An older couple sat at the table nearest, one of them had a cell phone out.

  And a few tweens walked in and pointed.

  Suddenly sick, I took a sip of water.

  “Do you know what you want?” Will asked gently as the waiter approached.

  “I want to leave,” I said in a low voice. “Please.”

  Will frowned. “Ang, this is part of the job.”

  “The job,” I repeated. “See that’s the thing, Will. I don’t want to be your freaking job. I don’t want you to smile at me about going to dinner, I don’t want you to talk about celebrating when all you’re really talking about is free publicity. I just spent eight hours doing my damnedest to be a good actress, and you’re asking me to do it again through dinner.” I stood. “Don’t.” I leaned over until we were nearly face-to-face. “Because I don’t think you’re going to like the results.”

  Will stood, placing his hands on the table until we were nearly nose-to-nose. “Are you threatening me?”

  “I will not hesitate to throw a plate at your face if you make me do this again. I’m exhausted. I want a shower. A hot meal where I can get cheese on my face and not see it in tomorrow’s news. And if I’m being completely honest I would probably shove a steak knife into that cold bitter heart of yours for a sip of white wine.”

  Will tilted my chin toward him with nothing but his thumb and forefinger, his eyes darted between my mouth and my eyes.

  My tongue slid out and wet my bottom lip.

  And before I knew what was happening he was kissing me.

  Parting my lips with his tongue, piercing my heart with every press of his lips against mine, and swallowing every moan that erupted from my shameless body.

  He tore away from me too soon.

  I touched my mouth with my hand.

  Just in time for his startled gaze to return to stone. “Now we can go home.”

  I was too shocked to slap him.

  Too hurt to move.

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm and led me through the restaurant and I was numb all over again.

  I might have used drugs just as badly as they used me.

  I was a lot of things.

  But I’d never used people the way Will had just used me.

  And suddenly I felt like that dirty drug addict all over again.

  But worse.

  Because this time it wasn’t drugs staring at me in the face, judging me, making me feel dirty.

  It was the man I used to love.

  I STORMED OUT of the restaurant, blindly walked down the boardwalk, and ignored Will’s yells.

  Cameras flashing.

  Whispering.

  Pointing.

  I tripped on my flip flop again.

  And ran like hell.

  I ran until my legs burned.

  Until the threat of people taking pictures of me faded as my legs created distance between me and them.

  The minute my feet hit the sand, I grabbed my sandals and ran harder.

  The salty ocean air hit me in the face, mixing with the mist from the waves. Two years ago, my only goal had been to reinvent myself and ruin friends in the process. I was willing to do anything to be on top again.

  Two years ago, I wouldn’t have just kissed Will I would have seduced him for the cameras.

  I would have taken body shots and laughed while he licked tequila and salt off my stomach.

  Now the idea of doing any of that for anyone other than myself, made me sick.

  My toes squished into the white sand.

  I was finally able to breathe. Finally able to think.

  I fell to my knees.

  The tears came.

  Because it was impossible to hold them back anymore. What the hell was I doing? Maybe I didn’t belong in the industry anymore. I wasn’t tough enough for it. Because the minute I wrapped that hard shell around myself, all of the other bad things came with it.

  The lies. The drugs. The late nights. The jealousy. The competitiveness. The ruthlessness.

  I didn’t know how to separate the two because they’d been so closely intertwined for such a long time.

  My tears dropped onto the sand, only to be washed away by the tide as it slowly crept past my body, soaking into my clothes, pressing the drenched fabric against my shivering skin.

  “If you’re thinking about drowning yourself, might I suggest a pool? A hell of a lot warmer,” came Demetri’s familiar voice.

  My head jerked up.

  His blond hair looked sticky against his sweaty forehead. He was wearing tennis shoes and shorts, and had sweat running down the middle of his ridiculously tanned and built chest.

  “You run now?” I blurted.

  He grinned. “Yeah well, apparently when you get older you can’t eat shit every day and not see it turn into more shit on your body, plus it helps with the anxiety.”

  “You hate exercise.”

  “I hate birds too, but actually threw a fry to one this morning. I think of it as my first steps toward peace.”

  I laughed through my tears. “Well, you’ve officially shocked me. I never thought I’d see the day where Demetri Daniels would run on purpose or actually get close enough to a bird to feed it.”

  He knelt on the ground next to me. “It was a really small bird, pretty sure it had a broken wing, I would have kicked its ass in a fight.”

  A smile tugged my lips, “You’re making yourself sound worse, you get that right?”

  He shrugged and sat down in the wet sand next to me. “So, you thinking about going out there?”

  “I’d survive maybe two minutes. I’m more of a drowner than a floater, and the water’s frigid.”

  “Not to mention the jellyfish.” He nodded seriously and then cracked a smile. “Hey wait—”

  I rolled my eyes and gave him a shove.

  “That’s it!” He snapped his fingers. “Isn’t this the exact spot where you got stung by a jellyfish and Jay offered to piss on you?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked. “I think he was looking forward to whipping his impressive appendage out more than peeing on me.”

  Demetri laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

  The tide continued to creep toward us. “You don’t have to sit with me.”

  “I know, but I figured it was time for our moment.”

  “Our moment?”

  “Oh, wow, did I totally misread this?” The goofy grin came back. He’d chilled out a lot since getting married. Time used to be this thing with Demetri; he was always doing something, always busy, always buzzing from group to group, place to place, until he met her. It’s like she was the calm to the storm of everything inside of him.

  The lighthouse to his crashing ship.

  Must be nice.

  “It’s been a hard day, that’s all.”

  “Most days are hard when you don’t have drugs, let’s be honest.” He elbowed me, smile gone. “But if I could make a guess, I’d say you staring sadly out at the horizon has more to do with a certain person than drugs.”

  I nodded, more tears slipped free, and then Demetri’s arm was wrapped around me as I sobbed against his chest. “I
ruined him.”

  “No.” Demetri squeezed me so hard it was difficult to suck in a breath. “He let you.”

  “But it was my fault. I chose drugs over him, I chose me over him, I chose my career over him, I chose fame over him, I chose his—” I choked on the word. “—I chose his best friend over him.”

  There.

  Released into the universe.

  Across the waves.

  All the tension left me.

  “Does he know why?”

  “Would it matter?” I snapped, “Pain is pain, Demetri, no matter the reason behind it, it still hurts like a bitch.”

  “So,” Demetri whispered as the waves crashed against my knees. “Let it hurt.” He released me and said a bit louder. “Let it burn.”

  “But—”

  “No.” He pressed a hand over my mouth. “Sometimes you have to let it consume you — the bad choices, the mistakes, let yourself walk through them so you can realize the most important thing about yourself.”

  “What’s that?”

  He stood. “That you won. That you aren’t defeated, that no matter how bad it hurts, you can still feel. Sometimes the best days for someone who’s spent their life numb — is to hurt, because we are never more alive than when we feel pain, kick the living hell out of it, and come out on the other side.”

  I blinked up at him and shook the confusion from my head. “Who are you?”

  He dusted the sand off of his clothes and stretched. “He doesn’t hate you, Ang.” He put the ear buds back in and locked eyes with me. “He hates himself for not being enough — for not seeing it. He hates himself for the reminder that in the end, he couldn’t save you. It’s not you he sees when he’s angry — it’s his own damn self.”

  He ran off.

  Leaving me in the sand.

  With all of my thoughts reeling.

  Because Demetri Daniels, a guy who I’d never taken seriously once in my life, had just pulled on a shrink hat and given me more insight than someone his age should have.

  Clothes drenched, I stood and walked slowly back to the boardwalk.

  It didn’t surprise me that Will’s car was long gone. Just like it wouldn’t have surprised me if he was there stalking, making sure I wasn’t doing anything I shouldn’t be.

  My thoughts were jumbled as I made the short trek up the sidewalk and toward the beach houses that lined the cliff.

  And when I finally made it to the house I was sharing with Will, I turned the knob and was met with his body before I could even utter a hello.