Something Like Want Page 8

  Chapter 11

  I was sort of in love with Whidbey Island, and Oak Harbor in particular. Once I got over Deception Pass Bridge, that was. On the last day of November, even with the trees bare and the freezing temps—my car told me it was barely fifty degrees, freezing to a Southern California boy—it was gorgeous. I’d been looking forward to returning for weeks, and now that I was back, I simply stood in Vincent’s front yard and breathed in.

  Some of the tension I’d been carrying melted away. It had everything to do with the magic of the place, and nothing whatsoever with Spencer being scheduled to join me before the day was out.

  I heard a bark a moment before I was nearly bowled over by a mass of golden red fur. I immediately squatted to the dog so I could give Valentine the love he deserved. It had been a couple of months, but he was apparently very happy to see me. I didn’t have an animal of my own because I was gone too often, but I loved them. So I was more than happy to give the dog what he wanted.

  “You going to stay outside like a freak, or are you coming in?”

  I grinned at Vincent’s playful tone. At his owner’s voice, Valentine bounded back to the front porch. I stood and grabbed my bag before I followed. Vincent looked good, better than I’d ever seen him. Relaxed and happy, he was actually smiling. He gave me a man-hug, complete with the thump on the back, before lightly shoving me toward the stairs with the instruction to drop my bag in the room where I’d stayed before.

  “I only have you for two days, so we need to get straight to work. I have all your stuff set up in the sound booth for ADR, so we’ll start there. And then, once Spencer and the camera and the sound guys get here, we’ll do a few reshoots.” Vincent paused and looked up at me where I’d stopped on the stairs. “I might need you back in a few months if some things change while I’m cutting the film together. But right now, I think I have everything.”

  I gave him a smile. “That’s totally doable. Let me stow my bag and take a piss. I’ll be right there.”

  Vincent nodded once. “I’m in the office. You know where it is.”

  When I joined him a mere ten minutes later, it was to find a completely different office than the one from a few months prior. The bulk of the room was the same one we’d shot the sex scene in, but an archway had been cut into the outside wall and an addition built on. Since I didn’t find Vincent in the room itself, I peered through the archway. He was sitting at a wide built-in desk that was covered in computers, a soundboard, and various other technical pieces of equipment I couldn’t readily name. I let out an impressed whistle as I walked into the new space.

  Vincent gave me another broad smile. “Figured if I was going to do this right, I might as well have the proper editing space.”

  I gazed around, still taking it all in. The small sound booth in the corner caught my eye. “Impressive.”

  “You know by now I don’t half-ass anything. Besides.” He gave a shrug and stood. “I enjoyed the shit out of this. I think I’ll do more indie films.”

  “Hell yeah.” I grinned. “I totally agree with that.”

  He gave me a look and said in a droll tone, “I was waiting for your approval.”

  I chuckled.

  He shoved me none too gently in the direction of the booth. “Get in there. I’ve got the monitor queued up and your dialogue pages on the stand. Stop wasting time.”

  I saluted, enjoying the banter, knowing I hadn’t really pissed him off. He grumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t make out beyond “entitled actor” and resumed his seat in front of the sound equipment.

  Recording the corrected lines didn’t take as long as I expected, even with the fifteen-minute interruption when Vincent got up to answer the door and left me in the booth.

  When Vincent returned, he wore a half-smile. “Spencer and Cody are here. As soon as we’re done in here, we’ll start shooting.”

  A little over two hours from the time we began, we were wrapping up. Despite the booth being climate-controlled, I was parched and a little sweaty and ready for a break. Vincent seemed pleased with what we’d recorded, though, and I was more than happy for it to be finished. ADR was not my favorite part of the gig; I always found it hard to match my voice and the words to the emotions of the previously shot scene. I also hated watching myself, especially when it repeated over and over. When Vincent said we’d got it, I burst out of the booth and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Spencer and Cody were sprawled in the living room when I walked through, and I only stopped for a brief minute to say hi before continuing upstairs. I needed to shower and change into my “costume” ready for the reshoots. Vincent had told me which scene he wanted to do again, and I needed time to get into the right headspace because it was the conversation I had with John, the dead friend we’d all come to mourn, and it would be an emotional one.

  Vincent had hinted he was changing the location for bigger impact, and he’d sent along a slightly rewritten scene that gave a bigger emotional punch.

  Clean, dressed, and my hair styled as it had been during filming, I stepped into the hallway, only to be greeted by the other three men. Cody was already wearing his Steadicam; almost the entire movie had been shot with one because Vincent liked the aesthetic. Spencer was carrying the boom mic.

  “Tyler hit a traffic snarl before he even made it to the bridge. He called to say he’s going to be late. We can’t wait for him, so Spence agreed to step in until he gets here. You ready?” Vincent said this all very brusquely, and I knew that even if I wasn’t, I’d have to be. So it was good that I was. I nodded and then followed them down the hall and into Vincent’s bedroom.

  The curtains had been pulled back and showed off a stunning view of the yard, beach, and ocean. It took all I had not to goggle. The scenery was breathtaking, and so different from the gorgeousness of the California coast. I almost couldn’t believe it was the same ocean I admired when traveling the PCH. I was so awestruck that for a moment I didn’t realize Vincent was giving me direction.

  “…At the window staring out. We’ll film some footage to cut in, of Spence on the beach playing with Valentine. So you’re watching Spence and talking to Dan who will be about here.” Vincent stepped up to the left of me and took up a position. He glanced up and lifted his hand as if cupping an imaginary cheek. “His head’s about here. Do you need a reference marker?”

  I shook my head, committing the spot to memory—just slightly above and to the right of the sconce on the wall. I could train my gaze there if I needed to.

  “I’ll read his lines today. I’m taking a chance using the actual outside as a backdrop, but I’m hoping that with some creative filters, I can match the lighting on you both. He’s coming in this weekend, so it shouldn’t be too much different.” He held up the clapper. “Ready?”

  “One sec,” I said before I even thought about it. I took a deep breath, centered myself, and pretended Spencer wasn’t behind me, holding a mic just out of frame. For a second, I thought I could smell him—that particular scent of fabric softener and shave gel—but another deep breath and it was just Vincent’s bedroom. I nodded.

  Vincent called for the camera, then stepped into frame with the clapper and snapped it down. “Mark.” Then he stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, which I could just see out of the corner of my eye. “Action.”

  I put on a brooding, contemplative face, leaned heavily on the windowsill, and stared outside.

  “You’ve been staring after him for a long time.” Vincent delivered the line without much emotion.

  I resisted the urge to smirk. “It’s only been a few minutes.”

  “Not just today. Years. What’s holding you back?” I now knew why Vincent stayed on the other side of the camera. An actor, he was not.

  I sighed heavily and my breath fogged the window for a moment before disappearing. “You know why, John. I want him. I love him. But I can’t be the kind of man he wants…needs. It’s better if I stay away.”

  “Better
for whom.”

  “Him. Me. Both of us. I don’t know!” I shoved a hand through my hair, then glanced up at the spot where Dan’s face would be. “What do you want from me?”

  “Only thing I’ve ever wanted from you, buddy. Honesty. I want you to be true to yourself and live the most authentic life you can. I might be gone, but that’s never going to change.”

  When Dan said it, that line would be filled with heartfelt sentiment. Vincent didn’t even try. But the words had hit so close to home that even his monotonous delivery didn’t stop me from sucking in a shuddering breath and leaning my forehead against the pane, feeling my next words down deep.

  “I don’t even know what that is anymore, who I am. I love him and I can’t have him. And you’re gone. Dead and buried and in the ground.” I glanced up again and didn’t even try to stop the tears from gathering in my eyes. “You two, you’re it. My support. And now I’ve got nothing.”

  “Not nothing. You’ve still got the whole world at your feet. You just have to be brave enough to reach out and take it. Haven’t I always said that?”

  A spot of inflection actually made that sound like a question, and my small watery smile was half at Vincent actually managing some emotion. “Yeah, John. You sure have.”

  “I was taken too soon. Are you going to let what’s left of your life pass you by.”

  I wiped a hand over my eyes, looked up at the blank spot that would be Dan, then back down and out the window, where Spencer was supposed to be playing with the dog. “I don’t know. I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t.”

  I nodded, keeping my gaze fixed out the window.

  Vincent sound normal when he said, “Cody. Go.”

  I remained motionless and heard the faint footsteps as Cody backed up, widening the shot until he could take in the entire scene and show I was talking to no one at all. That was one of the cruxes of the movie: we all had conversations with our dead friend, but it was never clear whether we actually saw and heard him or if he was just a figment and we were imagining his responses because we knew him so well.

  “Cut,” Vincent said a moment later.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I stood up straighter and relaxed my muscles. I shook out my hands and rolled my neck, releasing the tension. I didn’t move, though, because no way was Vincent done with me yet. I couldn’t get a scene in one take. That wasn’t a skill I’d mastered yet, so when Vincent directed Cody to reset, I half expected it.

  “Let’s do it again, see what else we can pull out of you. I want some options to play with in the cutting room. Ready?”

  I took a breath and nodded.

  * * * *

  Just before sunset on the second day, I managed to make it out onto the back deck. It was too cold to go wandering on the beach—the temperature would drop below fifty once the sun set. So I made do with a thick cable-knit sweater, hunched in the corner out of the worst of the wind, and kept my gaze fixed on the horizon.

  I’d be leaving in the morning, driving back to the Bellingham airport. From there I’d fly directly to Vancouver, which would take me longer than if I’d driven, but it was worth it since I didn’t have my car.

  This time it was sort of bittersweet to be saying goodbye. It had been a great, productive two days, and the small number of us had gotten along easily. I’d enjoyed myself and it was time well spent.

  “You and Spence are certainly getting a long better.” Vincent’s deep voice startled me from my musings and contemplation of the ocean. Turning, I offered him a smile, which he returned. “You’ve even been nice to each other in public. What the fuck has gotten into you?”

  His teasing tone made me chuckle. “Your fault for making us call a truce in the first place.”

  “I’ll take credit for that.” Vincent’s smug smirk was not a surprise. Then his expression sobered. “So I’m planning something special for the first screening of Talking with Ghosts if I can get it cut together in time.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” His response was curt as he deliberately ignored my inviting tone. He looked me right in the eye. “And hey. Don’t be a stranger if you feel like a visit, okay? You’re welcome any time.” Not one to show emotion, Vincent walked away as soon as the words were out of his mouth. But he paused to shout over his shoulder, “With proper warning, that is.”

  I laughed again, shaking my head. “Thanks, Vincent. That sounds great.” I loved Oak Harbor. I had half a mind to talk to my lawyer about finding some property here.

  But that would have to wait. I’d be in Vancouver for close to two months, with two weeks off for Christmas and New Year’s. I planned to spend some of that time on the East Coast, going with Rachel to visit our mother. If all went according to plan, I’d be back in LA in early February.

  After that, I was seriously contemplating taking a little time off. Go away somewhere, maybe, and just decompress. The last few months were starting to wear on me. Though I’d begged Lou to find me another job—and he’d come through, just as he always did—I was regretting it. The film was a big-budget action flick, lots of explosions, car chases, and saving the day, and I knew it would do well. But I needed some time to myself after too many emotional changes in the past few months.

  Lost in thoughts of my future, I didn’t register the sound of the sliding door opening until I felt his heat behind me. I shivered—I didn’t know how cold I’d gotten until he wrapped me up in his arms. I blamed my chill when I leaned against him, giving him my weight.

  “Hey, baby,” Spencer said, lips right against my ear.

  He nudged my jaw with his nose, and when I tilted my head slightly, he placed a kiss behind my ear.

  “Not your baby.” The protest was not much more than a mutter, even though I meant it, because I wasn’t his no matter what he said. Despite all our history, I missed being in his arms. I didn’t hate him anymore, though I hadn’t quite forgiven him. But as usual where he was concerned, want rode me hard.

  “Yeah, you are.” His voice was matter-of-fact, and he kissed me again on the side of my neck, sucking just a little. “I want you to be.”

  “Why?” I asked honestly, gently pulling myself out of his embrace. The cold hit me hard, and I shuddered as the wind picked up. “You hardly know me. Outside of our raging at each other, that is.”

  “What I do know, I like.” He gave me a serious look but softened it with a smile. “When you don’t have a serious hate-on for me, anyway. I could definitely do without that. You want to get to know each other better? Let’s do it.”

  He held out his hand, palm up, and my fingers itched to take it, but I hesitated. It was still hard to trust him. I’d done that the first time we met, and he’d hurt me deeply. But as I stood there staring at his outstretched hand, my brain played a litany of memories. The time in my bedroom…and outside in my backyard, of course…but also other little moments. When he’d brought me my forgotten coffee, fixed just the way I liked it; the hurt on his face when I’d wounded him with words; the times he let me pull away and didn’t push. Little things adding up, making me think I had misjudged him. I knew he wanted my body, and God, did I want him. But could I trust him with the rest of me? Could I take that chance?

  I placed my hand in his without giving it another thought. I would give him a small chance, a window of opportunity, one last try. If he failed, I would cut him out.

  But the smile he gave me, full of such relief and affection, made me think that things would possibly turn out okay. If I met him halfway.

  Rather than go through the sliding doors and back into the living room, Spencer opened the door to the sun porch and led me inside. He let go of me to make sure the little heater in the corner was on, and almost as soon as he hit the button, I started to warm up. Just being out of the biting wind helped. Then he sat on the wicker chaise lounge, pulling the afghan out from underneath him. He opened his arms, inviting me down. I hesitated again, but with a deep breath, I joined him, snuggl
ing up and absorbing his warmth as he wrapped us in the blanket.

  He sifted his fingers through my hair and dropped a kiss on my forehead. After a long, quiet moment, he asked, “Do I need to apologize again?”

  I thought about it, then shook my head, glad that for the moment I didn’t have to look at him. It was easier to do this without gazing into his perfect, face.

  “No. And I feel like I should apologize too.”

  “Alex, you don’t—”

  “Yes, I do. You hurt me, and it was shitty. But I believe you didn’t do it on purpose.” He snorted out a small laugh and I smiled. “Okay, I believe it now. Anyway, there’s no doubt I reacted to it badly. I…perpetuated it. Let my rage rule my common sense. Punch aside—which I still think you deserved—I didn’t have to be an ass in public.” I tilted my head back and met his gaze. “For my part in it, I’m sorry.”

  He nodded and then bent forward to give me a light, slow kiss. “Thank you. And you went a long way by saying what you did in that interview. You made the gesture, the first step, and that was amazing.”

  I was a little uncomfortable with the way he was staring at me, so I dropped my head back to his chest. I was just a little bit shorter than he was, and the way we were lying meant I could pillow my head on his pec. I wasn’t prone to blushing anymore, but I felt my face heat a bit, anyway. “Yeah. Well…”

  Spencer chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, well,” he mocked and then squeezed me tightly. “Tell me about your next project.”

  Grateful he was letting the conversation drop, I was quick to jump into an explanation. It was an ensemble piece, which was something I really loved working on. Yes, of course I wanted to be the leading man. Getting top billing was amazing. But carrying a film was hard work, and the publicity was overwhelming at times. When you were the star, if the film did amazingly, you were praised. But if it performed less than stellarly, it didn’t matter what extenuating circumstances there might be, you got blamed. I’d been there before, and it sucked. That was the biggest reason I liked ensemble pieces, and why I was happy to sign on to them whenever they came across my radar. I also liked the camaraderie, and though it didn’t always happen, it was amazing when it did.