13 Flames | gxg

16 - getting to know me

Palmer

Lexa Marshall is going to be the fucking death of me.

Chloe's right; I'm completely screwed. It's not that I have feelings for her. Yet. But I'm supposed to spend the indefinite future acting as her love interest? And not feel attracted to her in any way?

I close my apartment door behind me and flop onto the couch. Boxes lay everywhere. I've hardly had time to unpack. Instead of doing something productive, like unpacking, or running lines, I scroll through Instagram for the next hour. My stomach yells at me to eat, so I head to the fridge for leftovers. Tossing the plate in the microwave, I remind myself to change Lexa's contact name.

I delete what's already there. I usually like to put something to make it more interesting, but I'm drawing a blank, and end up leaving it as just 'Lexa'.

As I'm in my contacts I notice one that reads Brooke. The girl from the casino in Vegas. I haven't talked to her since. I haven't talked to half the people in my phone after spending a night at some hotel, or a few minutes in the bathroom with them.

The microwave beeps and I turn off my phone. Grabbing the plate, I return to the couch and turn the tv on, going straight to Netflix. I'm still pissed they took Friends off. It's good background noise. Instead, I put on Grey's Anatomy. I'm rewatching it for, I don't know, the fifth time? Something like that.

Digging into my leftovers, I enjoy the show and try not to think. About anything. Especially not about her.

And now I'm thinking about her.

And every reason why I shouldn't be thinking about her.

I try to focus on the show but it's no use. An image of Lexa standing in front of the mirrors keeps coming back to me. Her shirt unbuttoned, her collarbone exposed, her eyes sparkling emeralds looking into mine.

Part of me looks forward to the day on set where I get to kiss her. Part of me dreads it.

I finish eating and turn off the tv halfway through the episode. I clean up and grab my phone. It unlocks when it recognizes my face and I swipe up, only to realize I'm still in my contacts.

I hesitate for a moment, my eyes on Brooke's name. She would be a good distraction. She might not even live around here, though.

Worth a shot. I open her contact and press the call button as I sit back on the couch.

She answers on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Brooke? It's Palmer."

"Palmer? From Vegas?"

I smile. "One and only."

"Wasn't sure I'd hear back from you," Brooke comments.

"Sorry, been busy. But I'm free tonight, if you're near LA..."

"Yeah, I live just outside the city." She pauses for a moment. "You finally want to get to know me some more?" she teases.

I smirk to the empty room. "I'll text you my address."

"Okay. See you soon Palmer."

I'm about to hang up when she whispers into the phone. "And wear something nice."

The dial tone sounds as she disconnects. I text her my address and toss my phone beside me. I lean back onto the couch, a smile on my lips. After a few minutes of gazing at the ceiling, I head to my bedroom. I clear away what's left of the boxes and dig around for "something nice". Finally, I find my black lingerie. I undress and pull it over my body. Bands around my thighs connect to lace underwear while more straps reach up my ribs to the bra. Cutouts adorn the sides and the fabric is sheer across my breasts. One hook at the nape of my neck and another at the small of my back holds it together. Satisfied, I grab my silk, navy blue bathrobe and put it on. I keep my feet bare and make sure a hair elastic rests at my wrist.