Just Physical (38 page)

All around her, colleagues were talking to each other, excited as if they were a bunch of kids visiting the circus.

Lauren seemed to sense her nervousness. She didn't try to make conversation while they waited.

Crash and the stunt coordinator disappeared into the stunt trailer for one last run-through. When Crash returned to the set, she wore a thin, white full-body suit that looked like long johns.

The material was fire-resistant, Jill knew.

Ben and two other men surrounded Crash. The stunt coordinator talked to her, gesturing, while the two men slathered her in a clear gel, which made the full-body suit semi-transparent and slicked it to Crash's body, revealing her athletic shape.

“Wow.” One of the PAs watching from behind Jill let out a whistle.

Yeah, Crash looked sexy, but Jill was too worried to muster any amorous thoughts.

When the white undergarments were completely covered in the gel, the burn team helped Crash into a layer of black clothing and covered her with gobs of the gel again. Her hands, covered by silicone gloves, were coated in the fire-resistant gel too.

Then she struggled into her costume, an oversized dress, and Ben sprayed something onto its back. One member of the crew bent, dipped both hands into a bucket, and rubbed more of the gooey stuff over Crash's face and hair until it dripped off her nose.

Jill remembered what Crash had told her about the fire gel—it would only protect her for a few minutes, so everything would move fast now. She wanted to walk away, avoid seeing Crash being set on fire, but she stayed where she was, wanting to be there for Crash. Her heart thumped against her ribcage in a frantic rhythm.

“You okay?” Lauren asked next to her.

She felt Lauren's hand on her shoulder and nodded, her gaze still on Crash.

“Camera ready?” Ben called. “Sound ready?”

Two of the crew shouted confirmations.

“Roll sound.”

“Speed,” came the reply.

“Roll camera,” Ben called.

“Rolling.”

With every command, Jill's tension rose. She wanted to shout, “Stop,” but of course she didn't. She stood rooted to the spot, every muscle in her body rigid.

Then, just seconds before she was lit on fire, Crash looked up and directly at her.

Instantly, Jill's fear disappeared, replaced with the need to be there for Crash. Everything around her seemed to disappear until just she and Crash existed.
You can do this,
she mouthed to Crash and gave her an encouraging nod, hoping Crash could see her despite the gooey stuff all over her face.

Crash shivered and tried to stand still while the burn team covered her face, hair, and hands with one last layer of the freezing cold gel. The Nomex undergarments had been soaked in the gel and then put in a cooler at forty-two degrees. The only place on her body that felt warm was the burn mark on her neck, which seemed to be on fire again.

Forget about that. It'll be different this time.

But the memories of her last full-body burn flooded her. The light flutter of anxiety that came with most stunts threatened to grow into full-fledged panic. She focused on her breathing—in, out, in, out—knowing she would get hurt or even killed if she didn't get control of her fear.

Even a look at the three safety guys, who waited, fire extinguishers at the ready, didn't help calm her, so she instead gazed at the cast and crew gathered to watch the stunt. Her mind didn't register faces, except for one.

Jill.
The sight of her gave Crash confidence. Jill's last words to her echoed through her mind like a mantra.
You can do this.

Sound and camera started to roll. Ben stepped forward and caught her gaze. “Ready?”

One last glance over at Jill, then Crash nodded. If Jill believed in her, she could handle anything. She took up position inside of the fake building and forced herself to breathe as calmly as she could. In, out, in, out.
You can do this.

“Here we go.” Ben moved around her. “Hold your breath in three, two, one—now!”

She stopped breathing, knowing that she'd singe her airways if she inhaled.

A hissing sound behind her indicated that Ben had torched the back of her dress. He rushed out of the cameras' frame.

Heat crept up her back. Not being able to see the flames licking up her dress made Crash even more nervous, but she trusted her team to keep her safe.

Seconds ticked by, each feeling like an hour. She could no longer see Jill, but she knew Jill was there, watching, trusting her not to fuck this up.

Finally, Ben raised his hand to signal that the fire had risen high enough to look spectacular on film.

Now fully engulfed in flames, she ran through the facade's doorway. Her last bit of air escaped her lungs as she let out a blood-curdling scream. The stunt script called for it, but she didn't need to act much. It was a struggle to flail her arms just the right way to show off the burning areas of her body to the cameras, but not to move in ways that would make the flames climb too high too fast.

A spot on the back of her neck felt uncomfortably hot—never a good sign. It could mean that she was about to get badly burned, but she wasn't sure if it was real or just her imagination playing tricks on her. The urge to flop down on her belly, the sign for the safety guys to put her out, was almost overwhelming.
Wait, wait. Not yet.

She needed to give the camera operators enough material first.
You can do this!

Several seconds went by as if in slow motion. The burning sensation along her neck increased.

Her mentor's voice echoed through Crash's memory.
If anything hurts during a fire stunt, you're screwed. You need to be put out before that happens.

Only Jill's voice in her mind kept her from dropping to the ground. Finally, the freeing hand signal and shout came. “Put her out now!”

Crash collapsed to the ground.

Jill gasped as Crash went down face-first, her entire back, including her neck and head, still engulfed in flames and her arms spread wide.

One of the safety operators threw a wet towel over Crash's head, probably to protect her from inhaling the chemicals, while three men with fire extinguishers sprayed her from head to toe.

Steam rose, and the white foam covered everything, making it hard for Jill to see. Was Crash moving? Was she okay? Jill couldn't tell.

She's okay. She has to be okay.
But she needed to see for herself. Using her elbows without mercy, she shoved past several onlookers and rushed over to where stuntmen, the guys with the fire extinguishers, and the medics still surrounded Crash.

Finally, the ring of people around Crash moved back, allowing Jill a glimpse of her.

Crash was getting up, a wet blanket hanging around her shoulders so she wouldn't re-ignite. The once cream-colored dress hung around her in black tatters. The clear gel made her hair stick to her head. Gobs of the gooey stuff still clung to her face and throat. Foam from the fire extinguishers dripped off her. God, she was a mess—and the most beautiful sight Jill had ever seen.

Other people shouted congratulations, but Crash ignored them all. Her gaze zeroed in on Jill immediately, and a grin spread over her face.

Instead of stopping a few feet away, Jill approached Crash with her arms opened for a hug.

“Uh, I'm a mess and—”

Not caring, Jill threw her arms around her. With Crash's body pressed against hers, alive and healthy, she could breathe freely for the first time all morning. “You did great,” she whispered into Crash's ear. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you,” Crash whispered.

The heat radiating from Crash and her tattered clothes made Jill worry about her MS symptoms flaring up, but she held on anyway. “Wow,” she mumbled. “You're still pretty hot.”

Crash burrowed closer.

Jill peered at her. “What? No jokes about your hotness?” That wasn't a good sign.

“Later,” Crash mumbled against her shoulder. “For now, I just want to enjoy the moment.” Jill felt her shake her head. “Wow. I did it. I really did it. How did it look?”

“Scary,” Jill said.

“That's good,” Crash said, sounding more collected now. With a glance at the people around, she lowered her voice and added, “I was close to hyperventilating for a second, but it really helped to have you here.”

When they finally let go of each other, Jill flicked a gob of gel from her shoulder.

Crash's gaze swept over her. She gestured at the gel and the foam that now clung to Jill's front. “Now you're a mess too.”

Jill forced a wry smile.
Truer words were never spoken.
She was more conflicted about Crash and the future than ever. After what they had shared, how could she just walk away in a week? But then again, how could she stay, knowing it would condemn this courageous woman to a life with MS?

She stepped back. “I think I'd better go and give the makeup artist some time to make me look halfway presentable.”

“You're beautiful already, foam and all,” Crash said. From everyone else, it would have sounded like a line, but she knew Crash meant it. After stripping off one of her silicone gloves, Crash lifted her hand and wiped a bit of foam off Jill's chin in a gesture so tender that it made Jill's heart ache. “Thanks again for being there for me.”

Always,
Jill wanted to say but knew she shouldn't make that promise. “You're welcome,” she answered instead, gave Crash a quick hug, and hurried off to the wardrobe trailer. If only the wardrobe assistant could fix her messed-up emotions as easily as her clothing.

CHAPTER 21

Usually, Jill loved wrap parties.
They were the culmination of months of hard work and one last occasion for the crew and the cast to come together to celebrate the end of filming, especially if they had managed to bring in the movie on time and on budget, as they had this time.

She was proud that she had made it through three months of filming without delaying production even once, but as she headed into the club where the wrap party for
Shaken to the Core
was being held, she didn't feel like celebrating at all.

Back in June, she and Crash had agreed that the end of shooting would also mean the end of their fling. Was that agreement still valid, even though what was happening between them had clearly surpassed being a fling weeks ago?

Maybe that agreement was more important than ever, now that she had fallen in love with Crash. Why keep torturing herself with what she couldn't have, at least not forever?

But there was that new voice in the back of her mind whispering,
Are you sure you can't have it?

No, she wasn't. She wasn't sure of much these days. The only thing she knew was that she couldn't fathom never seeing Crash again, never touching her again, never hearing that contagious laugh again.

Music pounded through the nightclub's speakers, making the floor beneath her and the brushed aluminum bar vibrate as Jill made her way through the crowd inside. The executive producers had rented the entire club for this one night, but there were still a lot of people around Jill didn't know, probably guests of the cast, studio employees, or supporters of the movie.

She scanned the crowd for familiar faces—one familiar face in particular.

Strobe lights flashed in the rhythm of the music's beat, and a fog machine filled the club with a dense vapor, making it hard to see much more than entwined shapes writhing on the dance floor.

Was Crash part of the crowd on the dance floor? The thought of Crash dancing with someone else, the other woman rubbing her body along Crash's, made her clench her teeth.

Someone waved at her from the edge of the dance floor, but it was just Nikki, who was dancing with one of the camera operators.

Jill waved back and greeted several other colleagues but didn't join them. Finally, she spotted Lauren, Grace, and Shawn sitting at one of the tables against one wall and flopped down onto the only free chair. She leaned over and hugged Grace warmly. “Hey!” she shouted to be heard over the loud music. “I didn't know you'd be here. I thought you were still in New York, being paraded from talk show to talk show.”

“I was,” Grace shouted back. “I headed here straight from the airport. I wouldn't miss the wrap party of Lauren's first movie for the world.”

“
First
movie?” Lauren repeated. “Who says there are going to be more? There's no guarantee anyone will take an interest in my new script.”

“Oh, they will. It's too good not to attract interest.”

Her friends gazed at each other in mutual adoration. “So,” Grace said when she finally managed to drag her gaze away from Lauren, “how did the filming go for you? Lauren says you did great, even with all of the physical scenes the script called for.”

Jill snorted. “They hardly let me do any of the physical scenes. Dr. Lucy Sharpe is at least half Crash.”

As if conjured up by the mention of her name, Crash stepped up to the table. “Hi.”

Jill's mouth was suddenly too dry to return the greeting.

Crash wore that sleeveless white blouse that always made Jill torn between wanting to look at it forever and wanting to take it off immediately. Tight black slacks emphasized her trim hips, and a thin leather jacket was casually slung over one strong shoulder.

Crash pulled a chair next to Jill, sat, and leaned over to kiss her hello.

The gesture made Jill's heart beat faster, not only because the touch of Crash's lips felt oh-so-good, but also because it felt so much like being part of a couple. It was scary and exciting all at the same time.

Shawn sighed and playfully nudged Jill's shoulder. “I'm starting to feel like a fifth wheel with all you newlyweds at this table.”

Cheeks heating, Jill ignored the comment. Shawn had no idea what she was talking about.

“So,” Grace asked after a while, “what will happen now that filming ended?”

For a moment, Jill thought she was asking about her and Crash, but then Grace added, “Do you have other work lined up already? With all the traveling I've been doing, I'm totally out of the loop and have no idea what's next for all of you.”

Shawn gave an excited hop, almost spilling the drink she held in the process. “My agent just sent over the contract for my next movie. I'm not allowed yet to reveal who else is in it, but oh my God… It's a dream come true.”

“Congratulations,” Jill said along with everyone else. She was glad for her colleague, really. If only producers were as eager to send contracts to her agent too. None of her cast mates seemed to have problems getting roles. Grace would be in Ireland starting next Tuesday to shoot her new movie. Jill felt like the only out-of-work actress on the planet.

“What about you?” Grace asked, nodding at Crash.

“Ben got me an audition on
Engine 27
. No guarantees that they'll take me, but I'll meet with their stunt coordinator on Monday.”

The legs of Jill's chair scraped across the floor as she turned to stare at Crash. “Wow. That's fantastic! Why didn't you tell me?”

Crash rubbed her neck. “It's a TV show about a bunch of firefighters, so up until last week, I wasn't sure I'd want to do it.”

Jill squeezed Crash's knee under the table. “And now you are? It'll probably mean a lot of fire stunts, won't it?”

“A fair share, probably.”

Jill wanted to ask if that was okay with her, but that would reveal Crash's fears to the entire table.

“It's still not my favorite kind of stunt, but I think I'm slowly getting over it,” Crash said as if sensing the unspoken question.

“…you, Jill?”

Grace's voice interrupted the eye contact between them. Jill turned to look at her friend. “Uh, excuse me?”

“I asked what's next for you,” Grace said. “Are you going back to TV work?”

Jill suppressed a sigh. “I wish. I don't have any offers so far, so it seems I'll be back to doing cattle calls and throwing myself to the mercy of casting directors next week.”

“Well,” Grace said, “if you can bear to work with me again, I could try to get you a role in my next movie.”

It was how Hollywood worked, but Jill hated mooching roles off her friends.
Hey, you wanted to let other people in a little more, remember? Besides, pride won't pay your bills.
So she forced a smile and nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

Grace blinked. “Wow. That was easy. I thought I'd have to go nine rounds with you before finally getting you to accept.”

With heat tinging her cheeks, Jill just shrugged.

Beneath the table, Crash reached over and squeezed her knee.

Grace started tapping her fingers on the table to the beat of a pop love song that the DJ had just put on. She looked over at Lauren, her famous ocean-blue eyes pleading. “Dance with me?”

Lauren didn't have to be asked twice.

Shawn got up too to search for a dance partner, leaving Jill and Crash alone at the table.

Jill watched her friends for a moment.

Lauren's tall frame fit against Grace's curves perfectly, and they held each other so close as if they never wanted to let go. Jill was fairly sure that they didn't even notice that there were other people surrounding them on the dance floor. With the paparazzi constantly following Grace around, the two probably didn't get the chance to dance with each other very often.

God, she missed dancing too. When the pain behind her sternum became too much, Jill had to look away.

Crash held out her hand, palm up. “How about it? Want to dance too?”

“I hung up my dancing shoes for good when I nearly did a face-plant at the wrap party of
Ava's Heart
,” Jill said. She hated the thought of other people watching her dance, possibly on the lookout for any uncoordinated movements on her part.

Crash kept her hand extended. “Come on. I promise I won't let you fall.”

Too late. I've already fallen.
Jill sighed. She didn't know what the future would bring for her and Crash. Maybe this would be their only chance to dance together. After one last moment of hesitation, she put her hand in Crash's. Those slightly callused fingers immediately wrapped around hers, safe and warm.

“Ready?” Crash asked, looking into her eyes.

Were they still talking about the dance? Jill took a deep breath and nodded. “Lead the way.”

Crash pressed her cheek to Jill's and settled her arms around her more securely, holding her close and protecting her from other dancers jostling her, disturbing her sometimes precarious balance.

If only she could always hold and protect her like this. But Jill wouldn't let her. Well, she wouldn't give up. Crash was determined that this would be the night when she'd change Jill's mind once and for all. She had to try, at the very least. Tonight was the official end of their arrangement, and she wasn't sure if Jill would insist on sticking to it—maybe even walking away from the friendship part of their friends-with-benefits affair, so Crash had nothing to lose.

When the song ended, they looked at each other and then, as if by mutual agreement, waved their good-byes to their colleagues and made their way through the crowd to the door.

A light breeze hit Crash as soon as they stepped outside. She sucked in a lungful of air and tilted her head up, trying to make out stars in the night sky, but there were none.

Instead, two security guards and a couple of paparazzi hung around. They snapped a photo or two, but then quickly lost interest when they realized they weren't big stars. The guards retreated too as if sensing that they wanted some privacy.

They stood in companionable silence, watching partygoers pass by on the busy street.

Now or never.
Crash clenched her hands to fists in the pockets of her slacks. “Do you—?”

“So,” Jill said, cutting off Crash's question.

It was almost as if she didn't want to let her finish, afraid of what she would ask—or maybe afraid of not having the strength to say no.

But this time, Crash wouldn't let Jill be the one who made all the decisions. “Come home with me,” she said, not phrasing it as a question.

They looked at each other. Jill's green eyes, nearly black in the near darkness outside, searched Crash's face.

Crash's shoulders stiffened as her tension rose. What would she do if Jill said no? Just let her walk away, or—?

Jill nodded, nearly making Crash pitch forward in relief.

She kept peeking over at Jill as they made their way to her SUV, but Jill gave no indication of whether this would be one final good-bye or the beginning of something new for her.

The one time they had made love in Crash's studio apartment before, they had tumbled onto the sofa bed and practically ripped the clothes off each other, eager to get to bare skin, but this time, things were different.

For once, Crash's apartment was tidy—no socks or weights on the floor. Even the yoga mat had been rolled up, as if Crash had expected to bring her back here and had wanted everything to be perfect.

Crash led her by the into the apartment, closed the door, and threw her keys onto the table without looking away from Jill.

The intensity of her gaze made Jill's chest tighten with a mix of desire, joy, and fear.

Crash directed her to sit on the edge of the sofa bed and stepped into the space between her legs. Without saying anything, she wrapped her arms around Jill and pulled her close, cradling Jill's head gently against her belly. It wasn't a sexual gesture but one of comfort and love.