Page 34 of Love Scenes

“Thanks for doing that with him,” Tyler says to me mid-Guy-forehead-kiss.

“It’s no problem.” I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t at least a little satisfying, to see her cool demeanor peeled back for me.

“See ya soon,” she says with a weird wave.

“To another great day!” Guy adds. They continue on toward set, leaving Joseph and me alone once more.

“Why didn’t you tell them about Haven?” I ask.

Joseph leans his elbows on the step behind him. His muscles pull against his shirt, the barest hint of his lower torso exposed. “I was liking this conversation. Wasn’t ready for it to end yet.”

It warms me. Against my better judgment. Against everything I’ve told myself for weeks.

Years, really.

But I can’t commit to forgiving Joseph all the way, because that feels like a betrayal to the younger me, the one who promised herself never to let a guy like him charm his way out of consequences.

She didn’t know what I do now. That she really was meeting him at a bad time. That doesn’t cancel out what he did, though. And it makes me worry that at the slightest sign of trouble, he’s going to become that person again. It doesn’t help that in the back of my mind, there is the memory of how Kearns warped my vulnerabilities into villainy and made me out to be a fool.

I hate to be a fool.

“Why didn’tyoutell them?” Joseph challenges, right as Tyler reappears. Her pace is quick and scattered, her head whipping in every direction. Joseph takes a resigned breath before getting up and opening his trailer door. “I’ll try calling Haven.”

I hear the ringing on the other end. And the click to voicemail.

Over and over.

“I don’t suppose we can shoot B-roll of my ass for the next twelve hours?” Joseph jokes.

Somehow Tyler, Guy,Joseph, and I end up in a production van on the way to Haven’s apartment. Our driver battles weekday freeway traffic to the best of his ability, which is to say that we spend a lot of time sitting, waiting. Not even Guy Cicero is speaking.

“This feels like that scene at the end ofNotting Hill, when they’re trying to get to Julia Roberts’s press conference,” I offer up, hoping to lighten the mood.

Joseph nods in appreciation. “Great flick.”

These are the last words spoken in this giant black van, aside from our driver letting us know we’ve arrived. We unpack one by one, no game plan discussed beyond Guy whisking us away saying we have to “go get our girl.”

There’s no open parking where Haven lives, so the driver drops us in front of her high-end beachside apartment complex. It smells like salt water, the ocean right across from where we are. Palm trees and impossible blue skies, gentle waves rushing in, this whole setting would look fitting on a postcard. Too bad not one of us cares to preserve this particular moment.

If Haven’s not answering calls, do we really think she’ll answerher door?I wonder to myself but don’t dare ask aloud. Pointing this out may bring everyone to tears.

Joseph saunters up to the lobby attendant. Folds his arms and leans his elbows on the counter, giving the kind of eye contact designed to make knees buckle. “Hello there.” He looks down for a second to read the attendant’s name tag. “Darren. Hello, Darren. Could we be let up to Haven Church’s place, please?”

The obvious, appropriate answer is no, but the young man clearly recognizes Joseph. He swipes his card to give us access to the elevator and directs us to room 1153.

“I hate that that worked,” I tell him as we click upward floor by floor.

Joseph runs a hand through his hair. “Better than standing in the lobby though, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You queer-baited the attendant to get us here.”

“Who says it was bait?”

My phone vibrates within seconds. It’s a text from Tyler.I knew I’d never root this hard for a man that was completely straight.

Aren’t you always saying no one in this town is completely straight anyways, I answer.

Because they aren’t, she responds.