Something Like Want

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Something Like Want Page 4

by Kris T. Bethke


  Everyone at the table took a drink and then laughed.

  Lena was up next. “Never have I ever gone streaking.”

  Lena, Spencer, Cody, and to my surprise, Jared, took a drink. I blinked at him and he gave me an impassive stare back. He seemed far too staid and stoic to do something as ridiculous as taking off his clothes and running around naked. I wasn’t the only one staring either, and when he caught sight of everyone’s looks, he huffed out a breath.

  “I’m a Marine. When you’re deployed and not fighting for your life, sometimes shit gets boring. I was a baby Pfc.”

  The way he said it, both matter-of-fact and with a bit of warning, meant we shouldn’t question him further about it. We all let the subject drop and moved on.

  “M-my t-turn?” Brandon asked, then pursed his lips in thought. “Um. N-never have I ever g-gotten turned on while sh-shooting a scene.”

  Only Jared didn’t drink, but since he was the only one who wasn’t involved in the film industry in some way, it wasn’t a surprise. He took it in stride, though, and had his question at the ready. “Never have I ever taken an order in bed.”

  Brandon turned bright red as he drank. I dropped my gaze as I lifted my bottle to my mouth. Jared, Cody, and Melora kept theirs on the table. I resolutely did not look at Spencer—I didn’t want to know anything about his sex life. Not anymore.

  But he was next, and his voice was low and sensual as he said, “Never have I ever made love outside.”

  I jerked my gaze to his, and he held it as he took a drink from his bottle. In my periphery, I noticed just about everyone else taking a drink too. But I refused to lift my bottle.

  Spencer frowned. “Come on, Alex. You can’t tell me you’ve never done it outside. I know you must have.”

  He did know. In excruciating detail, since he’d been the one doing it with me. But I wouldn’t think about that, and I didn’t allow him to intimidate me with his stare. “I’ve had sex outside, sure. But you said ‘make love,’ and I’ve never done that.”

  I saw the hurt flash across his face before he managed to master it and his expression turned neutral.

  Good. The fucker. Who does he think he is, pulling that out now? What an asshole.

  Cody cleared his throat. “Never have I ever gone skinny-dipping.”

  I didn’t drink, and I didn’t move my gaze from Spencer’s as I waited for everyone who should do so to take their drink. When the bottles clunked back onto the table, I spoke without giving it much thought. But I knew the instant the words were out of my mouth that I’d fucked things up.

  “Never have I ever screwed someone to screw them over.”

  It was so quiet I could have heard a pin drop. I shouldn’t have said it. It was going too far. But that jackass had tried to provoke me first, and once again good sense had failed me where Spencer was concerned.

  It had been that way from the beginning. He was an ass of the highest order, and I couldn’t stop myself from poking at the wound.

  “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely, casting my gaze around until I met everyone’s eyes. Except Spencer’s. I wasn’t apologizing to him. “I’m tired, and I let my mouth run away with me. It was shitty. Thanks for inviting me to play, but maybe I should go now before I say even worse shit.”

  “Alex…”

  At Spencer’s voice, soft and low and coaxing, I closed my eyes and pushed away from the table. Before I opened my eyes, I turned away and put all my sincerity into one more “I’m sorry,” before walking out of the room.

  Damn that fucker for provoking me yet again.

  I needed to keep the distance between us. It was the only way to keep the peace.

  * * * *

  Ever since Lucas Logan had shown up a few days before and took up the mantle of assistant director, Vincent had started taking him aside and discussing problematic scenes. It wasn’t Vincent’s usual style, but there was no doubt the two men worked well together. I’d had the good fortune to shoot a scene on the beach earlier in the day with Lucas directing, and he channeled Vincent well. This would be a stunning film when all was said and done.

  The script was phenomenal, the dialogue witty and clever, and the subject matter dealt with in a beautiful and poignant way without being too over the top. That, coupled with Vincent’s direction, made this project something special.

  There was no doubt it would win awards. And I was certain it would be a hit at Cannes and the Toronto International Film Festival. But even more than that was the way it felt for all of us working to get it made. To be a part of something we all believed in so passionately was an amazing experience.

  The only thing that marred it was him.

  Things were better since we’d come to an understanding, despite that disastrous night in the kitchen and the stupid game. By better I meant that I actively avoided him so I wouldn’t be tempted to snipe at him, and since I wasn’t pointing out his many shortcomings, he didn’t have to respond.

  Undeniably, the atmosphere felt more peaceful. At least for everyone else. For me, keeping that hate on the inside was taking its toll. As nice as it was when Brandon spoke to me without a stutter, when the whole cast could just hang out together in the living room, when no one was giving us the side-eye and expecting one of us to explode, it was hard for me to live with that feeling inside me and not let it out.

  I’d started taking long walks in my downtime. There wasn’t a whole lot of it. Vincent had the shooting schedule tightly packed, and with the addition of Lucas, it meant that two scenes could be shot at the same time. But there were times when I was not on the schedule to film, and I took advantage of that opportunity every chance I got.

  The weather wasn’t very warm, and the wind off the ocean could be particularly biting, but I couldn’t seem to stay away from the beach. I walked miles, pacing back and forth in either direction, sometimes stopping to stare out at the water, other times admiring the amazing twists of driftwood that had washed up on shore. Per Vincent’s direction, I left it on the beach. That didn’t stop me from appreciating its beauty.

  It wasn’t long before those walks were the only thing allowing me to keep my hatred for Spencer in check.

  Vincent passed out a new shooting schedule under the premise that things needed to be rearranged now that we’d filmed roughly half the movie. But it didn’t take me long to figure out that my scenes with Spencer were spaced farther apart and I usually had a break afterward. Today I had the entire afternoon off while most of the rest of the cast shot a scene in the kitchen. Sam had taken off in the scene before to “think,” so I didn’t have to be there.

  Vincent had scheduled a rare evening off as well. Usually we shot until nine or ten o’clock at night. But today Vincent had things scheduled to end at about seven. And since it was Vincent in charge, I knew it would get done.

  I’d heard talk about getting dinner out as a group and then heading over to the Blue Fox Drive-in Theater for a newer release. I’d avoided everyone’s attempts to invite me along because I didn’t want to decline. Probably antisocial or rude of me, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of being in a social setting with Spencer. Even with the buffer of so many others, I knew I’d say or do something that would ruin it—I’d proven that already. It was taking all my willpower to keep my feelings in check, and I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I might not be able to control them.

  After the lunch break, I headed out the door. I could have stuck around to help, perhaps, but it was better for everyone that I didn’t. Anyway, I was glad for the reprieve. We’d been going nonstop since before seven that morning, and I needed the break. Once I’d managed to eat, I headed outside and down to the beach.

  It was a gorgeous day. The sun was bright and warm, with only the occasional cloud floating by to cast a temporary shadow. I’d changed out of my “wardrobe” before I escaped the house, glad I’d pulled on a light long-sleeved shirt. It was about seventy degrees, but the breeze off the ocean made it feel chillier. I’d
also taken the time to apply sunscreen to my face and neck as I anticipated hanging around outside for a while.

  On the edge of the grass, where it gave way to sand, I left my flip-flops and set off at a leisurely pace. Jared was forever warning us not to wander too far away, and even though I found it hard to believe there would be any sort of threat in this picturesque town, I did as he said. About half a mile up the beach was a natural bench formed from a fallen tree trunk, and a large stone shaded by a huge oak. This had become a favorite place, and I enjoyed just sitting and soaking up the atmosphere.

  So I couldn’t help my annoyance when I reached it and found someone already occupying it. I did my best to keep my face blank and was about to turn around, when the person sitting on my tree called my name.

  It took me a second to recognize the voice because I hadn’t been hearing it for very long. With relief, I smiled as I walked closer. Lucas squinted up at me, one eye partially closed against the sun. “Should you be out here? Don’t redheads burn easily?” I couldn’t help the scowl. I heard that all the time, and it had gotten old about two decades ago. But then I caught the teasing glint in his eye. He was only messing with me. I let it go, and after he slid over a few inches to make room, I joined him on the tree trunk. It was at least five degrees cooler in the deep shade there.

  We sat in awkward silence for a long moment, both of us staring out at the ocean. I was trying to figure out what to say to break it. I didn’t know Lucas very well, and there was a whole extra layer of awkward because he was sort of the boss of me, but not really.

  Fortunately, after another minute, Lucas spoke. “How’re you holding up?”

  I blinked, surprised. His tone was soft and courteous, and I could tell he actually cared about the answer. But all I could do was sputter out “What?”

  Lucas kept his gaze fixed on the water. “You know, when I heard about you and Spence, I thought there was no way it was real. Had to be all hype, right? A construct of the media, a way to get publicity…something. And then I met you and—” He squinted up at the sky for a moment and then turned his gaze back to me. “—you truly dislike him.”

  “To put it mildly.” It was out of my mouth before I could check it. I groaned and debated trying to take it back or give it some sort of spin, so that it sounded better than it actually was.

  “He must have done something pretty serious.” Lucas said it like a statement, not as though he was fishing for information. But weirdly enough, I felt like I should tell him something.

  I didn’t know him well enough to know how he’d react to the truth. Considering how close he was with Dan, who was in a relationship with Vincent, I figured he wouldn’t have too big a problem with the homosexual aspect. But I hadn’t said it out loud to anyone except my sister, and to do so now made me wary. Since in the end he wasn’t really asking, all I said was “Yeah.”

  A beat of silence and then he blew out a breath. “That sucks.”

  His matter-of-fact delivery surprised a small laugh out of me. I shook my head in amusement. “Yeah, it does.”

  “Keep doing the best you can.” Lucas gave me a smile and stood. He brushed off his jeans, then clapped me on the shoulder good-naturedly, turned, and headed off back down the beach toward the house.

  I watched him go, admiring his ass in those worn jeans, and then turned my gaze back to the water. I leaned back against the rock and breathed out a long sigh, letting some of the tension go.

  I shouldn’t feel validated, and it shouldn’t matter. But it did. Having Lucas agree that it sucked made it feel like I had someone on my side. Sure, Rachel had immediately jumped to my defense and threatened bodily harm to Spencer. But she was my sister and was supposed to take my side.

  Spencer had everyone fooled that he was the victim, and it was me he’d hurt.

  Feeling the anger beginning to rise, I purposefully stamped it down and breathed deeply and slowly. This was my special spot, the place where the rest of the world didn’t intrude. Thoughts of Spencer weren’t allowed. I didn’t want him here. I wanted only to enjoy the beauty nature had laid out before me.

  It took some doing, but finally I was able to empty my mind and focus on the right now.

  * * * *

  Eventually the sun started to set, which meant it had to be after seven. I didn’t know where I’d lost four hours to, but I felt relaxed and peaceful as I stood. The sun finished its descent until just the halo remained, and then I turned back for the house. The temperature was cooling rapidly, and by the time I made it the half mile back up the beach, I was chilled. I remembered to grab my flip-flops from the edge of the sand, but I didn’t bother to put them on as I crossed the yard. The grass was cold but the ground still warm, and it felt good on my feet.

  I climbed the steps up to the deck and then slipped inside through the sliding glass door. Vincent didn’t lock it until he went to bed in the late hours, and it was how most of us entered and exited the house.

  The house had been buzzing with conversation and errant sounds since I’d arrived, but now it was almost eerily quiet. Not even the dog was around, and I paused as soon as I stepped into the living room. It took me a moment to remember that everyone had been making plans to go out. I swept my gaze over the room, and it landed right on Spencer lounging on one of the couches and staring right back at me.

  Silence stretched between us for a long moment before Spencer spoke.

  “Everyone has gone out to dinner, then to the drive-in. No one else is here.”

  “Okay,” I said flatly.

  Hungry, I turned to the right and headed for the kitchen. I figured I’d find something to eat, then hole up in my room for the rest of the night. When I avoided the cast-and-crew outing, it was because I didn’t want to be put in a situation where I’d have to converse with Spencer. No way was I allowing it to happen when we were the only two people in the house.

  I felt more than heard Spencer get up and walk toward me. His bare feet made scarcely any sound on the hardwood floor. I studiously ignored him and peered in the fridge. I even went so far as to bend down so I could really see inside. Spencer stood close by, his breathing a little heavy, and I could all but feel his gaze boring into me. Maybe he’d stayed behind so he could talk to me without anyone else around. But that didn’t make sense.

  Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood from my crouch and shut the fridge door a little harder than necessary, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared him down. “What the fuck?”

  Spencer sucked in a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring, but his gaze never wavered. “Why did you punch me?”

  “Which time?” I snapped, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “Alex—” He tried for cajoling, but my instant glare stopped him. He blew out a breath. “Just…seriously. What happened?”

  I had to fight to unclench my jaw in order to speak, and even then my words were full of utter disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  When Spencer continued to stare, when he let me see that hint of confusion in his deep brown eyes, I broke. I threw up my hands and ground out the truth. “It’s like I said the other night. You screwed me, and then you screwed me over.”

  “What are you talking about?” His voice was soft, and full of hurt and confusion. For a tenth of a second, I almost wanted to feel bad for him. But it was all an act because there was no way he didn’t do what he’d done deliberately.

  I stalked closer until I was right up in his space, no more than a foot separating us. I wanted to make sure I had his complete attention because I wasn’t doing this again. The fucker wanted to know what happened? Then I was going to fucking tell him.

  “For hours that night, I talked about Shadow Jumper. How great the script was, how excited I would be to work with the director. I told you how badly I wanted that role. And you never once said you were up for it too. You never even said you were considering it! I don’t care that you got the part. What the fuck ever
. That’s the business.” I sucked in a fast breath. “But I care that I poured my soul out to you that night, you fuck! And you acted like you didn’t know anything about the movie!”

  Spencer blanched, but he held my gaze. “I didn’t think—”

  “That much is fucking obvious!” I shouted. “It was a shitty fucking thing to do to me. You had plenty of opportunity to say something. That night. In the week after. But you couldn’t be bothered to say a fucking word! Fuck you for treating me like I was nothing after you made me think—”

  Before I could say something really detrimental, I snapped my mouth shut and stomped away from him. He was still fucking with my head, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. I wasn’t hungry anymore, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be anywhere near him, so I jogged toward the stairs, intent on getting as far away from him as possible. Maybe I would grab my keys and go for a drive. The island was fifty miles long. Surely I could find somewhere to hide.

  Spencer’s hand clamped down on my wrist and tugged me to an abrupt stop.

  “You don’t get to walk away from me,” he growled.

  “Fuck you!” I spat back. Who the hell did he think he was?

  “You’re not even going to give me a chance to defend myself?”

  I scoffed and tried to tug my arm free. “There’s nothing to defend, you piece of shit! You’re an asshole.”

  “You’ve got a pretty foul mouth when you’re pissed off.” His voice was low, but he was breathing heavily. He used his grip on me to pull me closer. “And if you’d stop acting like a child for one damn minute and listen to me, you’d learn the truth.”

  “Your version of the truth, maybe, which we both know is nowhere in the same realm as reality. Assholes like you don’t know what the truth is.” I tugged again and took a step back, made my voice low and menacing. “I don’t want to do this with you. Let me go.”

  “No,” he said. And with a sharp yank, he had me flush against him. He was a couple of inches taller than my six feet and had about twenty pounds of muscle on me as well. I couldn’t break his hold, and when he reached his free hand to cup my cheek, I went still. He was breathing hard and his gaze was locked on mine.

 

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