But I’m distracted, because the second I walk out onto the set in that costume, I’m thrown back to that day and that kiss and the way Amber’s mouth felt under mine. I’m reliving this morning with some of the best sex we’ve ever had. Not to mention the system.
I’ve got to stop thinking about it because I’m going to get a hard-on in front of the crew, but the memory of Amber’s face, relaxing into me as I took control, feels like it’s burned onto the inside of my eye lids.
Harley walks up. “Hey, Peter.”
“How was New York?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know, same old. Answering the same questions over and over until your brain starts to bleed.” I do know. Press junkets are boring, but necessary. “I got a new question a few times though, so I figured I’d give you a heads up because it’s probably heading your way too.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yep. I think five different interviewers asked me if we were together.”
I shake my head. “Do we even have any pictures together floating around?”
She laughs, “No, other than the production photos, I don’t think so.”
“All right, thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem,” she stretches, and that costume, which Amber was falling out of and Harley does too, is made even sexier by her stretch. It’s made sexier and it does nothing for me. “I brushed it off, left it to you for what you want to say. They’ll ask who you’re with now, since they know that we’re not together.”
“And I’ll say that I’m happily taken, nothing more.” I freeze, realizing that I probably shouldn’t have said that, but it’s the truth. I may not be able to shout to the rooftops that I’m finally able to be with the love of my life again, but I’m not going to deny that and have people try to paint me as a free-wheeling, single man who’s available and willing.
“Good,” she says. “You ready for this? I heard you already filmed your side.”
“Yeah. I think we’re going to film both sides again, though, just for consistency.”
“Sounds good.”
A few minutes later we’re rolling, and I do my best to disappear into the character. I’m trying to let go of that feeling of Peter and Amber in the scene and become Alex and Genova. It’s not as easy as I would like it to be. I try to catch Amber’s eye between takes, but it seems she’s always doing something. Gloria is holding out something for her to look at or she’s giving instructions to the DP and the rest of the crew.
It’s probably better this way, because by the end of filming I’m finally getting to the place where I can let myself go, and the final take is definitely the best one. Harley heads off, and I go to my trailer, because I can’t go straight to Amber the way I want to. But my phone is in my trailer and I’m going to text her.
I’m in the middle of doing that when there’s a knock on my door. Speak of the devil. “Hello,” I say with a smile.
“I’m here to talk about possible changes to your character, in case anyone asks.”
“Good to know.” She closes the door, and I press her up against it and kiss her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she breathes.
“It’s not like you, to take a risk like this that would make people ask questions.”
“I know.” She’s blushing and it’s cute and I want to kiss her again, but I let her finish. “I just wanted to see you because I didn’t like watching you with Harley.”
She’s looking up at me with hopeful eyes, and I do kiss her again. I run my tongue across her lips and she opens her mouth, and I take it. The way she immediately surrenders makes me hard and I pull her closer, press her harder against the wall so she’s feeling all of me. “It took me a long time to not think about you and me kissing in the scene,” I say. “And I tried to look at you, but you were lost in directing. I even thought about the fact that even though Harley was falling out of that shirt that it did absolutely nothing for me.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She smiles. “Okay.”
“It’s not going to be easy watching me pretend to have sex with her either.”
She makes a face. “I know, but I’ll make it work. This is my job, and you better make that scene as hot as you can. And then when you’re done, you come home and you take all the sexy energy out on me.”
“Just like I’m about to do right now?”
Amber giggles. “Exactly.”
“I’m sorry that it has to be like this,” she says. “I wish you could come over and just kiss me and have everybody know. I wish things weren’t the way that that they are.”
I laugh, pulling her down onto the couch with me. “I’m fine with it, as long as I get to keep having moments like this with you.”
She laughs too. “I think you might like fucking me in secret a little too much.”
“You’re the one who came here and also the one who suggested the bathroom at Fantasia. If I like it, you do too.” I peel her shirt back and run my tongue along the line of her collarbone. “Maybe you want to be caught and get it over with.”
“I do not!” she says, hitting my arm. “I just don’t like my life being harder than it needs to be. We both worked hard to get where we are, and this isn’t making it any easier. You know just as well that nothing has ever been easy for us. Nothing. I don’t think I’d even be here and we wouldn’t be together again if it weren’t for Mr. Davidson’s letter.”
I stop. The letter. I’d almost forgotten about those. “You know about the letter.”
Amber bites her lip. “Yeah. I remembered it the other day and I wanted to tell you that I knew but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up because I knew that it was supposed to be a secret.”
“How did you know?”
“I had to delay all my applications for a year because of the heart stuff. So when I went to interview, they told me about the package. I called Mr. Davidson and he told me that it was you. I never got to thank you for it. I did try to text you, but your number was different.”
That feels like being punched in the stomach. “I had to change it after my mother came back and robbed me. It was so that she wouldn’t find me again. Now I really wish that I hadn’t changed it.”
“Your mother?”
“I’ll tell you about it sometime,” I say. “Not now.”
“Okay. I just wanted to say thank you. Because you brought us back together by doing that.”
I can’t say anything, because it feels like too much. I kiss her instead until we’re both panting, hands roaming. “You never have to worry about transition,” I tell her, pulling her deeper into the trailer, “because I’ll tell you.”
“We’ve transitioned?”
“Yes.”
She sighs contentedly. “Okay. But after this morning, I need to tell you that I’m kind of sore.”
“Hmmm…” I make a show of slowly running my hands down her body. “Whatever am I going to do with you then?”
“I don’t know.”