Page 57 of Seeking Stars
Without any further conversations, they made their way back to the cabin. Liam again helped her climb up the trail opening near the cabin, but this time he didn't keep her hand in his.
***
That night, Ana did something she knew she would regret. In the security of her room, she rewatched the raw footage of their almost kiss in the pool. She allowed herself five minutes of torment: she slowed down the film to inspect each single frame, letting the wave of awe and yearning wash over her. Damn, she could feel the tension through the screen. Her nerves turned into sparklers. The ghost of his touch lit her skin up.
Okay. Done. The five minutes were up and she had to return to reality.
She closed the video player and opened her email. She'd avoided it since her last phone call with Diana, but reading the document she sent would be the bucket of cold water she needed.
Only there were two email follow ups in the chain, one of them from Magda. Asking for confirmation on Ana's plans regarding the documentary, and whether she agreed to include some of the questions greenlit by Liam's team. Ana suspected she'd receive an email from Coulton himself next.
She slammed closed her laptop, putting it away for the night. She spent the next few hours thinking of the film, the material she had recorded, and her guiding questions. She balanced her vision against the pressure from Diana and Coulton's office. It was time for difficult decisions.
***
The next day, Liam offered to make a simple lunch for Ana and him. He’d had a session with his therapist that morning, and he was still deep in thought from it. Maybe he and Ana needed a distraction. He cut up tomatoes for a sandwich, wondering where to go next.
He finished preparing the food and took the plates out to the deck, two cold water bottles held between elbows and torso. She sat on the stairs connecting the deck with sand, and he put the food next to her. She put her ebook reader aside upon hearing him approach.
"Here you go," he said.
She took her things from him. "Thanks, Liam."
It was hot under the sun. She wore jean shorts and her bikini top; he was in his swimming shorts. They were both half-leaning on the railings, angled toward each other as they ate in silence. They'd eaten most of the food by the time they talked again.
"I was thinking," he said. "Do you think we should go somewhere else?"
"If you'd like." She pushed her plate to the side. "We don't have much time left. My flight back is booked for Friday morning."
He took a sip of his drink, the gulp a little more forceful than he would have liked. "Five days."
She nodded, still not glancing at him. She played with her plastic water bottle, tearing the label apart. "What can we do in, say, three or four days? Or if you want some time by yourself, I could go home now. I should have enough material so we have flexibility. It's up to you."
An alarm blared in his mind. He put his plate and bottle away. "I'll have to think about it."
"Sure. Just let me know."
He didn't want her to go away. Not now, not in five days. But she'd go back, and he'd be left reeling. Crap.
He swallowed through the discomfort in his throat. "It's going to be strange, going back to normal. Is it always like that for you?"
"Yeah," she replied. She put her bottle aside and leaned back to rest on her stretched arms, hands flat on the rough surface of the deck. "I get a little hangover from it."
He smiled at the image, and let it relax him. He lifted his arms and stretched, before dropping them so that his hands held the back of his head, supporting it against the railing.
"I've never had a hangover from filming before. Something tells me it'll be different this time."
He glanced at her when she didn't respond right away.
"Yeah? What makes you say that?" She finally asked.
Her eyes were all over him, gazing at one of his arms, appearing to pay close attention to the point where his biceps met his shoulder. If he were to guess, he would say that she really liked what she saw. She looked like she wanted to eat him whole, and then put him in her pocket for safekeeping.
A flood of adrenaline twirled in his belly. She wanted him, right? She wouldn't be looking at him this way if she didn't. It was good, really good that she did… and it was so little, compared to what he really wanted.
He frowned. "Please don't look at me like that. It makes this harder for me."
She tore her eyes away, face whipping forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I know it must be hard to…"
