I wasn’t ready to move past it.
If there was one thing I was good at in this world, it was holding a grudge.
Just ask your parents.
“Sorry,” I said automatically, stepped out of his hold, and tried to get by him to complete my task. But he’d heard Scott’s request, too, and so he beat me to the large white shade that would help reflect light.
I ended up standing awkwardly by the door, watching my two scene partners finish preparing the room. Nina was already downstairs in the editing room, Scott told us. She’d been editing and uploading the previous week’s videos, then scheduling their releases.
He had his monitor in his ear and passed ours along to us. After a sound check, we discussed the story beats and stepped through the blocking for the scene, making sure the lighting was right with Nina.
“Your wedding ring,” I said abruptly.
Scott glanced down at his hand, then back to me. “We thought it would be hotter if I left it on.” His tone turned playful. “You’re seducing a married man, after all.”
Whatever expression was on my face, it wiped away his amusement in an instant.
“I’ll remove it,” he said quickly. “I want you to be comfortable, Madison.”
I shook my head, but it was more at myself. “No, sorry. It’s fine. I just meant that your ring looks different.”
I’d noticed the silver band on his ring finger, which had seemed out of place. Didn’t he normally wear a black one?
“Oh, yeah.” He relaxed his shoulders. “Nina thought I should wear my traditional band for the scene.” With that settled, he glanced at Colin and then back to me. “Everyone ready?”
We were.
My pulse drummed in my neck as I waited in the hall. I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and tried to get into character, shutting the rest of the world out.
But it was impossible with Colin standing nearby. Every inch of my body was aware of the cocky frat boy who lurked beside me. Fuck, he smelled good. He looked good too, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a fitted maroon t-shirt that tapered perfectly to his form.
In another life, I would have been all over him.
And in this life, you’ve already been all over him twice.
In the room next door, we heard the quiet squeak of the chair as Scott seated himself behind the desk. Any second now, he’d give a thumbs up to his wife, and Nina would start the cameras, and I’d have to—
“Can I kiss you?” Colin’s low, urgent voice disrupted me, and my eyes flew open.
I turned to look at him with disbelief. He could not be serious. “Now?”
The word had tumbled out of my mouth before I realized it was a stupid question. Of course he didn’t mean right now.
But his expression was cryptic. “During the scene.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Letting him kiss me seemed like a really, really bad idea. It was so much easier when I hated him, but I didn’t know how I felt about him anymore, and I worried that if he put his mouth on mine, it could be the key to unlock the answer.
It was safer this way because ignorance was bliss. I did not want to like Colin in any capacity.
“We’re rolling,” came Nina’s voice in my ear. “Madison, whenever you’re ready.”
I lifted my hand to knock on the door.
“I need an answer, Mads.” It was hard to hear how much desperation his hushed voice contained, but the amount was definitely more than zero.
I leveled a hard gaze at him, both intrigued and irritated at this nickname he’d given me. “No,” I said. “You can’t kiss me.”
His shoulders stiffened. My answer pissed him off, and—shit—that was fucking fascinating. Was this a power thing? Maybe he didn’t care about kissing at all, not until he discovered it wasn’t allowed.
It didn’t feel like that, though. I got the sense it was something else, but I was clueless as to what it could be. Why the hell did he want to kiss me so badly?
I didn’t have time to think about it right now. Instead, I raised my hand and rapped my fist gently on the door in front of us that was ajar. “Professor?”
“Come in,” Scott announced.
I swallowed a breath and marched through the door, shutting it behind me on an irritated Colin, who had to wait in the hallway.
As expected, Scott was seated behind the desk, holding a pen in one hand, and pretending to review the stack of papers in front of him. He pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose as his eyes focused on me. “What can I help you with?”
“I was hoping we could talk about,” I sashayed up to the front of the desk, “my grade.”
He glanced down at his watch. “It will need to be quick. I have an appointment with another student soon.” The pen was set down on the papers. He leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the armrests, and laced his fingers together. “What did you want to discuss?”