“Do your parents do that to you?”
I nodded. “They mean well, but they just don’t understand that it goes deeper than wanting to be thin. But then, why would they? I barely understand it myself.”
When we finished assembling the platter, we took it to the living room and grazed on it for a while. Then Lorenzo gestured at some papers on the table and asked, “Is that the script?”
“Part of it. Technically, those are the sides for this week.”
“What’s that?”
“A production assistant assembles a packet for each actor of our upcoming scenes, so we can prepare without wading through the entire script.”
“Can I take a look?”
“Sure. The second packet is the love scene I’m shooting tomorrow.”
He picked it up and flipped through it, and then he asked, “Would you like to run your lines?”
“That’d be great, if you don’t think it’d be boring for you.”
“Actually, it sounds like fun.”
We both stood up, and he read Liam’s lines while I recited Alex’s. When we reached the part where the characters kissed, he said, “I know acting is hardly my area of expertise, but can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Go right ahead.”
“I saw you and Royce rehearsing your kiss, and you really shouldn’t do it that way. You should do it like this.”
He dropped the pages onto the coffee table, and then he pulled me to him and kissed me with so much fire and intensity that it made my head spin. He flashed me a mischievous grin when he broke the kiss, and I smiled at him and murmured, “Good advice.”
A few moments later, ‘Push It’ by Salt-N-Pepa came on, and we both exclaimed, “I love this song!”
“You’re kidding,” he said. “Why do you even know it?”
I couldn’t help but tease him a little. “I must have heard it on the oldies station.” He pretended to be mortally wounded and grabbed his heart, and I said, “Actually, I not only know this song, but I can do this.” I busted out my best hip-hop dance moves, and he surprised me by joining in.
What followed were four minutes of lip syncing, dancing, laughing, and a pretty decent imitation of the choreography from the music video. When the song ended, he pulled me onto the couch, and I landed on top of him. I rested my head on his chest as we caught our breath, and he said, “I’m surprised you could do that, since the song is older than you are.”
“This was one of my teacher’s favorite songs when I took a hip-hop dance class, and she played the music video over and over. For the record, I can also waltz, tango, fake my way through some basic ballet moves, and tap dance. They’re all part of the ‘special skills’ I list on my resume. The last one has never come up, but if Hollywood suddenly develops an interest in old-school musicals, I’m ready.”
“I’ve always been amazed by just how much you’ve put into your career.”
I grinned and said, “And when I finally landed a part, all I had to be was pale and depressed.”
“Did you enjoy the stuff you learned, or was it just about wanting to make yourself more employable?”
“Some of it was fun, like that hip-hop dance class. It helped that the instructor didn’t take herself too seriously. The same can’t be said for the ballet teacher.”
Lorenzo ran his hands down my back as he said, “I love discovering your many hidden talents.”
“Which means all those endless classes had a purpose after all.” He kissed my forehead, and I asked, “Do you need to check on your giant sauce cauldron?”
“Yeah, and I should get the rest of the meal going, too. Want to help me?”
I got up and held my hand out to him, and as I pulled him to his feet I said, “You know I’m not much of a cook, but I take instruction well. Just tell me what to do.”
I was put in charge of the salad, while he attended to the sauce and boiled some pasta. It was such a simple thing, just cooking together, but it made me feel good.
When the meal was ready, we sat side-by-side at the kitchen island, and I picked up my fork. “Wait,” he said. “You’re missing the best part.” He grated a flurry of imported parmesan cheese over my dish, then watched as I took a big bite of spaghetti and asked, “Do you like it?”
When I told him, “It’s perfect,” a big smile spread across his face.
The food really was delicious, and I ate my fair share. Then we cleaned up together and moved into the den, where we found a movie to watch. Lorenzo got comfortable on the gray sofa, and I sat on the shaggy white area rug and rested my head on his thigh. It felt so nice when he idly played with my hair. I closed my eyes and forgot all about the movie as his fingers traced my temple and wound into my curls.