Totally and Completely Fine(20)

I didn’t take the bait—instead deliberately not looking toward the set. Ollie had made his point.

“And yet, you made him get rid of it for the movie,” I said.

“Of course.” Ollie winked at me. “I had to give Gabe a fighting chance against him.”

I laughed.

“He’s a good man,” Ollie said.

“Gabe? Yeah, he’s all right.”

“I was talking about Ben.”

I looked at him. He was meddling.

It was a bad idea.

The last thing I needed was someone else’s approval about the whole Ben thing. Which was nothing. Because I was leaving tomorrow.

“I’m sure he’s lovely,” I said. “Despite his reputation.”

Ollie laughed. “Gabe told you? Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I know all about how popular and charming and dangerous Ben is,” I said. “And good for him.”

“Good for all of us,” Ollie said. “He’s going to be a massive star.”

“I have no doubt.”

I thought about James Bond. Massive was probably an understatement.

“I’m quite certain this movie will get him a lot of attention,” Ollie said. “His life is going to be different after this.”

“Probably very chaotic and busy,” I said.

“Things do change very quickly.”

He was being annoyingly vague and pointed at the same time.

“If you’re trying to say something, just say it.”

“I promised myself that I wouldn’t meddle in the love lives of others.”

I snorted at that. “Since when?”

“Last night,” he said. “But I’ve decided to make an exception.”

Ollie looked at Gabe and Lena.

“I’ll be showing them footage for about an hour and then, of course, dinner,” he said. “You are more than welcome to come. Or…” His gaze shifted to Ben. “Or I could tell them that you felt like heading back to the rental.”

I didn’t understand.

“Do I want to go back to the rental?”

Ollie shrugged. “You could. Or you could find something else to do for a few hours. If you felt like being brave.”

It took me a moment, but then realization sunk in, and I turned to find Ollie wearing an impish grin.

“Oliver Matthias,” I said. “Are you trying to dare me into a one-night stand?”

His expression didn’t change as he examined his nails.

“I’m merely making a suggestion,” he said.

“Sure,” I said.

He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek before getting up.

“I would just hate for you to miss an opportunity to have a good time,” he said. “Or, if that reputation of his is true, several good times in succession.”

My entire body went hot. Ben did look like he could provide exactly that. Probably just through extended eye contact, and maybe a few words murmured in that famed accent of his.

The way he’d kissed me…

“You can see the movie when it hits theaters,” Ollie said.

I hadn’t thought I’d get another chance, and here was one being handed to me on a silver platter. This time, when I looked over at Ben, he glanced back, and our eyes caught. The spark caught too.

I couldn’t look away. And it didn’t seem like Ben could either. He grinned at me.

“He’ll be done in about twenty,” Ollie said. “His trailer is the one at the end of the second row.”

“Great,” I said.

“Have fun,” Ollie said, and I could hear him laughing as he walked away.

Chapter 13

Then

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Gabe said.

He was standing in the doorway of my bedroom—outside the threshold, because he wasn’t stupid—rocking back and forth on his ratty old sneakers.

He was always outgrowing his shoes these days.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

I knew what he was talking about.

Gabe made that tooth-sucking sound that I should have found extremely annoying, but it was something our dad had done. It gave me that hurt-nostalgic feeling, like for this tiny, brief moment Dad was there and real and familiar and wonderful.

But he wasn’t. He was dead. Had been for years now. All the people who told me that I would get over it, or that things happened for a reason, or that time would heal this deep, endless gaping hole inside of me were total fucking liars.

“Go away,” I said.

“Not until you promise to leave Spencer alone.”

I laughed at him. “Fuck off,” I said, and spun my desk chair away from him.

If we were younger, Gabe would have stomped his foot. He would have stuck out his bottom lip, his entire face contorting into an obscenely exaggerated expression of sadness, and then he might have even started crying.

But we were teenagers now and didn’t cry. Didn’t pout. Didn’t stomp our feet.

“He’s my friend,” Gabe said.

“He’s my friend too,” I said, pretending to look at my book.

“Everyone thinks you’re going to hurt him,” Gabe said.