The Bedroom Blog

I Can't Stop Thinking About a Guy Who's Out of My League

Chloe has a crush.

By Alessandra Torre

Week two of Boston Love Letters' filming and I already feel so much smarter then last week. Most of that education came from Hannah who has taken me under her bubble-gum-smacking wing. The rest of my education has come from watching, leaning my butt against any spare surface, and collecting as much information as I can. 

The movie's about Jenna (played by Nicole) a middle-aged waitress who starts getting love letters at her diner from a stranger. The stranger ends up being Mark (played by the talented and gorgeous Joey Plazen) a writer who lives across the street and who watches her every day through his office window. Which, in normal life, would be totally creepy, but it's Joey Plazen, so of course he'll make it broody and sexy, and every girl in the audience will wish that she's Nicole by the time the credits roll. 

And it is big-budget. Like, a real, gonna-be-in-theaters, movie. It's Nicole's first, my first, and every other person on this set's gazillionth. We are the only newbies here, not that Nicole acts that way. She's strutting around like she's Angelina Jolie. I'm just keeping my mouth shut and trying not to piss anyone off. I'm still not sure what Clarke wanted me to watch out for, but I spend all my time stuck to Nicole like glue... Taking notes when she barks. Texting Hannah when I'm lost. I was mid-text, doing exactly that, when I first met Joey Plazen.

 "Hey." 

I didn't lift my head. I couldn't. I really really needed to know where Set 14 was, and what the hell a "stinger" was, because Nicole needed one on Set 14 "ASAP." I finished typing out the questions, adding extra question marks for urgency, then pressed Send, looking up in agitation once it went through.

Any chance I had of responding stuck in my throat. Joey Plazen was the actor who kicked Brad Pitt's career to the curb. The guy who raced cars on the weekends when he wasn't sunning himself on his 200-foot yacht. The guy who beds co-stars without apology, gets in street fights (and wins), and who went full-frontal in his last role, an action movie that had no need for full exposure but whose ticket sales absolutely exploded as a result. I'd gone with Vic to the theater. Squirmed in my seat when Joey had pulled off his shirt, revealing a rippling set of perfect abs. Audibly gasped when he pulled at the drawstring of his pants and ditched the sweatpants, revealing every woman's wet dream between his muscular thighs. Vic, I specifically remember, had reached over.  Slid his hand up my thigh, underneath my skirt, and traced his fingers lightly over the lace line of my panties. I'd pushed at his hand and he'd resisted. Ran his fingers further down and pushed in between my legs. Leaned over and bit the edge of my neck as he nudged my underwear aside. I bucked in my seat and dug my nails into his arm. Cursed his name as he pushed me further and further along the edge of oblivion. I watched on the big screen before me as Joey Plazen lay atop his squirming co-star. I watched until the absolute last moment, when my head hit the back of the seat and I fully succumbed to Vic's touch. 

I blinked the memory away and tried to focus on Joey Plazen's face, without thinking of what lay beneath his jeans. 

"Hey," I finally managed.