Chapter 37 Justin
Justin
For the next few days while Lexi is benched, I give her the space she needs.
She’s replaced by two guys who cover her days off, so it doesn’t feel completely foreign, but by day three, I’m itchy, missing her and need confirmation of life.
On the patio, I pick up my phone. I set it down.
Pick it up. Set it down. Christ. I tug on my chin and take a breath.
What’s wrong with me? Me and Lexi text all the time, especially on her days off. This should be easy. Near meaningless.
I tap my thumbs against the screen.
Justin: Since you have time off, and you’re not technically working, want to come over watch a movie? Jack is the worst movie watching partner. He doesn’t get any of the jokes.
A few days of no talking and this is the brilliant message I send. But what else am I supposed to do? Tell her that I miss her? That I hate being in the house without her? That I think about her at a truly unhealthy level?
She said whatever is going on, it needs to stop.
And I heard her. I really did. But, what if I gave this up?
I would. For a life with Lexi, I would walk away from the movies.
We could move to Minnesota, buy a farm, get some chickens, have a quiet life.
My priorities have shifted, and things I once thought were important are now inconsequential.
I’m booked out on projects for the next eighteen months, scripts are sent to me weekly, and I rarely even have to read for a director anymore unless it’s one of the big ones.
For the last few years, all of this brought me comfort.
But now, I want more. I need more. It just took until recently to realize that I won’t find what I need on a film set.
I stare at my phone. No bubbles appear, no messages pop up, nothing.
I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I’m not flirting.
I’m absolutely respecting her statement that whatever’s happening between us needs to be buried.
But she can’t mean our friendship, right?
Watching movies is a friend thing. Not a date.
For an hour, I wait. I walk away, come back, hold my breath, brush my teeth, sit at the edge of the bed, confirm the message was delivered and nothing.
Finally, my phone buzzes.
Lexi: Not a good idea.
The rejection stings more than it should.
A bite that spreads, infecting everything around it, making me burn.
God, she’s so hot and cold, impossible to read, and any time I open up a fraction, she shoots me down.
But holding her on the floor when she cried, being what Lexi – this phenomenally strong, independent, incredible woman – needed, filled me in a way I never thought possible.
I finally started healing from the memory of not protecting Mia.
But I have to stop. I keep setting myself up to get hurt, and it’s not healthy.
The following night, I sit outside to work on lines, but my mind refuses to absorb anything.
I reread the conversation with Lexi from the previous evening, and the sting only moderately lifts.
Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?
At some point, I seriously need to entertain going back to therapy.
My phone rings, and my heart skips. Lexi? Nope. Just Zane FaceTiming.
‘Hey. Wanted to catch you up on some things.’ Zane’s breath comes out in spurts as they walk on a treadmill. ‘The studio is scheduling another press conference, but they want you all in New York for— Hey, you good? You don’t look like your gorgeous self.’
‘Yeah, I’m go— Shit. No. I’m not good.’
‘Oh dear.’ Zane pauses the treadmill and holds the phone to their face. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m pathetic. That’s what’s wrong. I can’t form stable, normal relationships.
It’s such a joke.’ Are my parents to blame for this?
Or was I born missing some chip in my brain?
I run my hands through my hair and close my eyes, shifting further under the umbrella to block the last of the evening sun.
‘I have some serious, hardcore feelings for someone, but I keep misreading them, and it’s like I’m getting kicked in the balls every day. ’
Zane takes a breath. ‘Doc, huh?’
‘I never said her.’
‘You’re insane if you think I haven’t noticed. You already told me a month ago you liked her.’
‘Liking someone and having serious feelings are two different things.’ Zane throws an irritated look my way and I give up. ‘Do you think she knows?’
‘You try and play it cool, but it’s obvious to me.’ Their lips turn up in a sympathetic smile. ‘And I can only assume it’s obvious to her too.’
I’m not surprised to hear this, but still, I hold on to a sliver of hope that Lexi is oblivious to exactly how deep my feelings run. Because if she knows how deep, how raw my feelings are and keeps avoiding the conversation, it can only mean one thing.
Sure, Lexi likes me. She obviously fucking likes me. The way we banter and laugh, the way she let me hold her, the way we eat dinner together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But, for me … I don’t just like her.
I love her.
My heart pinches so hard I readjust my sitting position. ‘So that confirms it. She doesn’t have the same feelings for me, and I keep misinterpreting her friendship. It’s pathetic.’
‘It’s human.’ Zane steps off the treadmill and grabs a towel. ‘You’ve developed a closeness to Doc, that’s for sure. She even lets you use her first name.’
‘She does.’ My back sweats against the lounge chair, but I don’t want to move inside where Jack can overhear. ‘She probably just felt bad about everything with Conner and wanted to offer me something. She did it to be nice, and here I thought she was … well, I thought it was something else.’
‘Remember, this is her job—’
‘Trust me, I remember,’ I say flatly. ‘She tells me every goddamn time we get too personal.’
Zane props the phone on the counter and tugs off their tennis shoes. ‘But what if this is like how you are with your female co-stars while filming?’
Good point. I have a strict rule: no sleeping with the co-stars while filming. No matter how much we like each other. The one time it happened was a disaster, and I vowed to never repeat the mistake. ‘Yeah, that’s different, though. I want the best performance without all that stuff.’
‘Maybe she thinks the same?’ Zane says. ‘Maybe when all this shit’s over, there’s a chance?’
My chest lifts. ‘Do you think that’s possible?’ Hope brews beneath the surface. ‘That she doesn’t date people she works with? I mean, that makes sense, obviously. She won’t be working here forever.’
‘I think it’s more than possible. Doc and I have spent a ton of time together, and you’ve obviously grown on her.’
I tap my finger on the patio table. ‘Am I delusional? There’s something there, right? My junk can only take so much beating, and I’m not talking about the good kind.’
Zane giggles. ‘There’s the Justin I know and love. I don’t think you’re delusional. Go out on a limb. What do you have to lose?’
‘My pride and sanity?’
‘Overrated.’ They smile. ‘Good luck, my friend.’
I click off the phone, my thoughts racing.
I could wait to tell her, hold back, bottle this up until the stupid stalker is caught.
But what if she finds someone else in the meantime?
What if I lose my chance because I don’t open up and she starts dating someone amazing, and they get married and have a million babies and I’ve ruined everything?
In the kitchen, I pace so much that my legs are going to cramp.
Maybe there’s hope. A very real chance exists that if Lexi doesn’t feel the same way as me, it will destroy our friendship.
But she must. She told me about getting shot.
She cried in front of me. We share ice cream and movies and popcorn and intense games of basketball and …
‘Are you okay? You’ve been pacing for close to twenty minutes,’ Jack asks from the corner of the room. ‘Is this about what happened at the grocery store? Do you, ah, need to talk about it?’ Jack says, but his face screams Dear God, please don’t need to talk.
‘Nope, I’m good.’
He nods and leaves the room.
I run up to my bedroom, prop myself on the bed and grab my phone.
My thumbs hover over the screen and my breath locks.
What am I doing? I can’t wait any longer.
If I wait, I might lose my chance. But if I disrespect her wishes to not talk about this, to ignore what’s happening, I might lose her friendship, which is almost as important. Almost.
Justin: Are you still up? I need to talk to you.
My phone rings within seconds.
‘Are you okay?’ Lexi asks.
I prop the phone to my ear and lay on the pillow. ‘My brain won’t shut off, and I need it to stop.’
‘Talk to me,’ she says. ‘What’s up?’
My heart thrashes inside my chest. My mouth’s dry and my gut knots. Am I really doing this? I never open up like this. Fuck. This is a bad idea. ‘I want to do this in person but also don’t. If that makes sense.’
‘Is this about the grocery store?’ she asks. ‘We’re on it. I’m still working with our security team, completing deeper background—’
‘No, that’s not it.’ I breathe in a lung full of air, hoping, begging the oxygen will bring a windstorm to settle the butterflies tormenting my stomach. ‘I’m going to throw this out there, all right? I really like you.’ There, I said it. I hold my breath and am met with silence.
After several long, excruciating moments, she speaks. ‘Well, I like you, too. I’m so relieved our professional relationship has come this far. In the beginning we struggled, but—’
‘Lexi, stop.’ My words are soft. ‘I think you know what I’m getting at.’
My stomach lurches in my throat and I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m standing alone in a stadium with all lights pointing at me. I’m really doing this, aren’t I? No turning back now. I should just make a stupid joke and laugh this off.
I swallow. ‘Is there a chance for us?’ Too late.
‘Do you ever foresee a future, when all this shit is over and you don’t work here anymore, where this …
us … could be a thing? I think I feel it with you when you’re around me, but other times I’m not sure.
’ My heartbeat slams so loudly in my chest, I’m sure she hears it through the phone. ‘Could there ever be an “us”?’
Several moments pass, each second more agonizing than the last. ‘I’m so sorry, Justin.
You’re a really good guy, so much different to my first impression of you.
I’m so sorry if my friendly demeanor gave you any sort of …
false impression. It’s just, ah, these things sometimes happen when you’re forced to work so closely with people in stressful, heightened situations.
’ She inhales sharply. ‘I think of you as a friend, which is both awesome and also crossing a line. But I’ll be blunt so we can continue our working, cordial relationship.
There is no us. There will be no us. I’m only here to maintain your safety.
And when the job is over, I will be moving on. ’
My heart drops. The physical pain is the same as if she walked across my heart with her tactical combat boots, leaving nothing but a deep, bruised imprint.
Why do I do this to myself? Every horrible word my father said to me, every disappointed look my mother gave me, every self-loathing thought I’ve ever had pummels me.
The heat of humiliation and devastation collides, burning my insides and I want to puke.
‘Thank you for letting me know.’ I hang up before she can tear me apart anymore.
Hot, sticky, disgusting pressure builds in my chest. How did I misread the signs so much? Did I actually think because she broke down and let me hug her, or bantered with me, that she has feelings for me?
I bring a shaky hand up to my mouth, drag it down to my chin. Her sad, sympathetic, pitying voice sets the muscles in my jaw firm, angry, tight. How could I be so stupid? The blood that just drained from my face shoots back up and spreads like fire in my chest.
I never want to see her again.