13 Flames | gxg

48 - screwed

Lexa

Palmer pokes her head in my bathroom. "You almost ready?"

I smile at her in the mirror. "Yeah. I'll be there in a sec."

Palmer grins and heads for the living room. I finish applying my mascara and examine myself in the mirror. Jeans, a tucked in t-shirt, and sneakers. We're filming all day today, for the thirteenth episode. It's been five days since I ended things with James. My first day back, everyone offered their support, but really I just wanted to get back to filming. Back to pretending my life is all figured out, pretending Palmer and I are kissing because we want to and not for a camera.

All weekend, Palmer spent her time right beside me. Distracting me with trashy movies and plenty of card games, comforting me when I needed a shoulder to cry on. That Friday night Palmer softly suggested we don't share a bed. I agreed, somewhat disappointed. But around one in the morning I was feeling lonely and climbed under the covers beside her. She didn't say anything, just opened her arms and held my body close to hers. It's one of the things I love about her; she'll always be there for me, no questions asked.

But after that, we slept alone. It was strange, having the bed so empty. James and I often slept alone when one of us was away for work, but I always knew we'd have each other to come back to. Not anymore.

When I exit my bedroom Palmer leans on the back of the couch, texting someone. She smiles and puts her phone away when she sees me. "Ready?"

"Yep." She offers me her arm and I smile, resting my hand on the crook of her elbow. We leave the apartment together and I only let go when we climb into her car. She turns the radio on low and pulls out of the garage, her window rolled down and her hair blowing in the wind. I wait to see if she'll put her hand on my thigh. She doesn't, though. It shouldn't surprise me. She was perfectly clear that she didn't want to rush into anything.

Of course, that Saturday we were sent the script for the next episode. It involves a heated moment between our characters in the back of a fire truck. I could see Palmer blushing when she first read it. Basically, we make out in the back of the rig, and we need to imply that things go a step further without actually showing it. I'm not sure what she's going to do to me. But the thought of kissing her again sends butterflies spiraling in my stomach.

"Are you nervous?" Palmer asks. I glance over at her but she's looking in the rearview to switch lanes. She glances my way when I don't answer. "I am," she admits.

I smile despite myself. I love how open she is with me. She doesn't like to talk about her feelings, at least not with anyone else.

I tilt my head, trying to catch her gaze again. "Why?"

She gives me that half-smile, her dimple showing. "I don't know... I just don't want to screw up."

"You don't screw up, Palmer."

She gives a strained laugh. "I do. Trust me, I do."

I eye her curiously. "I'm not nervous. So you don't have to be either."

Palmer gives a slight nod. Her eyes fog over and I can tell she's thinking. About what, I don't know. The show, probably, or us. Whatever we are.

A short while later we arrive at the set. We head to our dressing rooms to change and before long we're filming with the rest of the cast. I check the schedule and the scene with me and Palmer is last on the list. Which is good, because we won't have to stick around after and deal with the cast trying to force us together.

All day I can sense Palmer getting more anxious for the scene. She has nothing to worry about, like I told her. If anything, I'm looking forward to it.