Chapter 5: Off-Script Arguments
579 Words
Lena stormed off the set, her pulse still racing from that kiss.
It wasn't real. It was just acting. It didn't mean anything.
But damn it, why did it feel like it did?
She marched down the hallway, barely aware of the crew members she passed. All she could focus on was the way Noah's lips had felt against hers, the way his hands had settled so naturally on her waist. She should be able to shake it off, but her body still buzzed with something she didn't want to name.
She reached the dressing rooms, eager to close herself off from the world for just a minute—to breathe, to remind herself of the lines between fiction and reality. But before she could step inside, the sound of footsteps behind her made her tense.
Smooth. Confident. Unmistakable.
Of course.
"Running away already, rookie?"
Noah's voice had that teasing lilt to it, but underneath it, there was something smug. Like he knew exactly what was going on in her head.
Lena turned sharply, glaring at him. "Do you ever shut up?"
Noah placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a breakthrough."
She let out a sharp laugh, crossing her arms. "A breakthrough? Is that what you call messing up a take on purpose?"
Noah blinked, clearly not expecting her to call him out. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on," she snapped. "The first take? You hesitated on purpose. You wanted everyone to think I was the problem."
His smirk faltered, just for a second. Then it was back, just as infuriating as ever. "Wow. I had no idea I had so much power over your performance."
"You don't," she shot back, stepping closer. "I just don't appreciate being played with."
Noah tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that sent another unwelcome shiver down her spine. "So that's what this is about? You think I'm playing with you?"
Lena held her ground. "Aren't you?"
For a moment, something flickered across his face—something she couldn't quite read. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He leaned in, just slightly, enough that she could catch the faint scent of his cologne. Enough that her breath hitched before she could stop it.
"Maybe you're just mad it wasn't pretend for you," he murmured.
Lena's stomach flipped, but she refused to let him see how his words affected her. Instead, she let out a scoff. "Oh, please. Your ego is truly a thing of legend."
Noah chuckled, low and knowing. "And yet, you're still thinking about it."
Lena clenched her jaw. She was about to fire back when Katherine's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Lena, Noah! We need you both for press photos."
Lena exhaled sharply, forcing herself to regain composure. Perfect. Exactly what she needed—more forced proximity with Hollywood's most irritating man.
Noah grinned, as if reading her mind. "Looks like you're stuck with me, rookie."
Lena huffed, turning on her heel before he could see the way her cheeks burned. She needed to get herself together. She was a professional. She wasn't going to let Noah Wright get under her skin.
But as she walked toward the press room, she was all too aware of him beside her, of the heat still lingering between them, of the way her heart pounded just a little too hard.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
- Writer
