Just Physical (26 page)

“But if the MS is here to stay, doesn't that make it all the more important to simply accept a helping hand from your friends every now and then so you can conserve your energy for more important things than tying shoelaces?” Crash asked but didn't wait for an answer before continuing, “Don't you think Lauren or Grace would have tied the shoelace for you too if they'd been there? Would you have told them off too?”

Jill opened her mouth but then hesitated. She slumped against the back of the couch and rubbed her eyes, suddenly looking exhausted.

The remainder of Crash's anger evaporated like water in the California sun. She wanted so much to wrap one arm around Jill and let her rest against her shoulder, but she knew it would most likely spark another fight.

“Probably,” Jill finally said. She nibbled on her lip and then added, “But I admit that I might not have reacted quite so strongly.”

That admission hurt. Jill was sleeping with her but didn't even trust her on the same level that she would a friend. She hesitated, not sure if it was a good idea to say what was on her mind or if Jill would throw those words back into her face. Finally, she decided to voice her feelings anyway. “You know,” she said softly, “it might be against your rules, but I care for you.” The words hung between them. God, that sounded almost like a declaration of love, and that wasn't what she meant, was it? “I mean, we agreed to be friends, right?”

“Yeah. We did. We are.” Jill reached over, laid her hand on Crash's, and squeezed.

Pain flared through Crash's hand. Suppressing a curse, she pulled it back.

“Oh God. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… Shit.”

Cradling her hand, Crash took a deep breath as the pain faded away. “Phew. It's okay. It only hurt for a second. All good now.”

“Really?” Jill searched her face.

“Yeah. I'm sure I'll survive.”

“No, I mean…are we good?”

Crash had rarely heard her sound so insecure. She looked into Jill's eyes and nodded. “We're good.”

“Can we agree that you won't try to tie my laces again?”

Crash sighed. “Honestly, I'm not sure I can promise never to lend you a helping hand again.” Seeing Jill struggle and waste her energy on simple things like opening buttons was just too hard. “That doesn't mean I think you're helpless. I know you can do it, but when I'm there, I might as well do it for you.”

“You won't always be there,” Jill said quietly. She held up her hand before Crash could think of something to say to that. “I know you think I'm overreacting, and maybe you're right, but this is important to me.”

Crash suppressed a sigh and regarded Jill with a shake of her head. “No commitment. No declarations of love. No tying shoelaces. That list of rules is slowly becoming a weighty tome.”

Jill looked away and fiddled with the laces of the sneakers she still held. “I'm sorry. If this is getting too complicated for you—”

“It's okay.” Things were getting complicated. But what were the alternatives? Walking away for good? Crash wasn't ready to do that. “I'll try to respect your wishes in this.”

“Thank you.” Jill lifted her hand as if to touch Crash again but then seemed to change her mind. “I should go. I'm not the one who can laze around at home tomorrow after all.” She winked at Crash with a levity that seemed a little forced and then powered herself up from the couch as if it took all her strength to do so.

Despite the promise she had just made, Crash struggled not to grip Jill's elbow to steady her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I'm not the one who got hurt today.”

Was she talking about Crash's hand or about their fight? Crash wasn't sure. She followed Jill and Tramp to the door, where they stood facing each other for several seconds.

“Take care,” Jill finally said and reached for the doorknob.

“You too.” Crash gave Tramp a parting pat to the back, then the two stepped outside. Slowly, Crash moved to close the door.

“Crash?” Jill called through the crack in the door.

“Yeah?”

“I do too.”

Before Crash could figure out what she meant, Jill's footsteps retreated.

Crash swung the door open and stuck her head out. “What do you mean?” she called after Jill.

At the end of the corridor, Jill paused and turned back around. She hesitated, jiggling Tramp's leash. “I care for you too.”

Stunned, Crash stared at her. A wild wave of hope rushed through her, and she made one step forward, toward Jill.

“I mean, we're not robots,” Jill added quickly, stopping Crash midstep. “It's perfectly normal to become a little attached to the person you're sleeping with, especially if you're friends, isn't it?”

Ouch.
The words were true, but still…ouch. Crash had hoped for a little more. “Yeah,” she murmured.

Jill gave her a smile, but the expression in her eyes was sad. She lifted her hand in a wave and disappeared around the corner.

Crash stared after her. After a while, she stepped back inside, closed the door, and leaned against it. “Perfectly normal.” She sighed, rubbed her chest with her good hand, and went to throw away the chewed-on sock.

CHAPTER 15

Jill breathed a sigh of
relief as she entered her air-conditioned trailer. The heat outside had been almost unbearable for the last hour, but she'd gritted her teeth and finished her reaction shots.

She plopped down onto the couch and waited until the air had cooled down enough to lower her body temperature. Within just a few minutes, the fog lifted off her brain and the numbness in her legs all but vanished.

Only then did she even attempt to open the buttons on her costume. Once she'd taken a quick shower and changed into her own clothes, she mentally calculated the distance from one air-conditioned refuge to the next. Production office. Car. Home.

That should work.
She nodded with satisfaction and headed out.

Fran was manning the production office when Jill stepped inside. “Hi, Jill. Are you here for your call sheet?”

Jill nodded.

Seconds later, Fran's printer spat out several sheets of paper. “Are you on your way out, or are you heading back to the set?”

“I'm finished for today.”

“Too bad,” Fran said. “I thought you could take their call sheets back to Nikki and Shawn.”

Jill shook her head. “They aren't shooting. They headed over to that empty storage building where the stuntmen train to run through a couple of action sequences with the guys from the stunt department.” The guys and Crash, to be more exact.

Crash…
Thinking about her instantly made Jill want to see her. Just to check to make sure Crash wasn't hurting her hand by overdoing it in training.
Yeah, right.
Her lies to herself were no longer working.

After a moment's hesitation, Jill waved her fingers at Fran. “You know what? Hand them over. I'll drop them off on my way to the car.”

Fran gave her a dubious look. “On your way to the car? That building isn't anywhere near the parking lot.”

She was right. It was stupid. The storage building was all the way at the other end of the studio lot, and it wasn't air-conditioned. Not a place where she should want to be. But even knowing she was probably making a fool of herself, she couldn't resist. The urge to see Crash was just too strong. “I don't mind.”

Call sheets in hand, she made her way to the storage building and pulled open the door.
Just drop off the call sheets, wave hi to Crash, and get out,
she firmly told herself.

To her relief, it wasn't as hot or stuffy as she had expected. The training stunt performers were sweating like crazy, though. Jill's gaze immediately found Crash.

She was wearing baggy cargo shorts and a sweat-dampened tank top that clung to her breasts and her athletic torso. Sweat gleamed on her muscular arms, and her dark hair stuck to her neck in wild waves. She expertly swung something that looked like a long stick, smashing it against one held by a stuntman. Both sticks were moving almost too fast for Jill to follow.

She paused in the doorway. Dry-mouthed, she watched the play of Crash's lithe muscles, the wild grin on her face, and the joy in her eyes as Crash fought, testing her strength and her agility against those of her training partner.

Watching Crash train was a guilty pleasure, but at the same time, it acted as a reminder of why it was a good idea not to let herself get any closer. Crash was strong and healthy—and she wasn't.

That didn't stop her from watching and wanting, though. Despite her resolution not to stay for longer than a minute or two, she couldn't tear her gaze away.

“Hey, Jill!”

It took a second for her name to register. Reluctantly, she looked away from Crash.

Nikki waved at her from where she was sitting against the wall with Shawn, out of the way. She indicated for Jill to join them.

Still watching the stunt fight, Jill walked over and settled down between them. “I thought they were supposed to be training you?”

“We already finished,” Shawn said. “Now they're just blowing off some steam.”

Jill could think of more pleasant ways to do that, but she bit her lips and just nodded.

“God,” Nikki whispered, watching the two stunt people with rapt attention. “Do you see those muscles?”

“Yeah.” Jill's gaze was glued to Crash and the way swinging that stick made the muscles in her arms flex.

Shawn laughed. “I don't think you two are talking about the same muscles.” She nudged Jill. “Girl, you're a goner.”

“What? No, I… I'm not. I… We…”

Shawn wrapped one arm around her. “Hey, it's okay. If I were gay, I'd definitely make a play for her too.”

Jill opened her mouth for another denial but then snapped it shut. She wasn't kidding anyone, not Shawn and not herself, so she directed her gaze back to Crash and watched her in silence.

Finally, Crash planted one end of the stick on the floor and flung herself up into the air. Her feet hit the stuntman's chest, catapulting him back.

He went down but jumped back up to the applause and cheering of the two actresses.

Wow.
Jill clapped her hands too, dropping the call sheets in the process.

Crash, who was casually leaning on her stick, looked over. The wild, triumphant glow in her eyes softened as she walked over to Jill, focusing just on her.

Jill got up, relieved when her limbs cooperated and didn't leave her stranded on the floor. “Hi,” she said as she stood eye to eye with Crash. She found herself a little tongue-tied. They'd been shooting mostly on different sets all week, so she had barely seen Crash since apologizing after their fight last Friday.

“Hi.”

Jill reached out, but with their colleagues' watching, she touched Crash's weapon rather than her arm. “That's a dangerous stick.”

“Staff,” Crash said with a smile.

Waving her hand in a
whatever
gesture, Jill asked, “Are you okay to fight like this?”

Crash flexed her fingers to show off the functionality of her stitched-up hand. “Good as new.” She leaned on the stick…staff again. “So, what brings you here?”

Jill bent and picked up the call sheets she'd dropped. “Just bringing over the call sheets for Nikki and Shawn.”

“Now they have you working as a PA too?” Crash asked, arching her brows.

“No, I…”
Volunteered.
She bit her lip so she wouldn't say it, not wanting to reveal how eager she'd been to see Crash. “It was on my way out.”

“And here I thought you'd missed me,” Crash said. She flashed one of her grins, but there was more than teasing behind it.

“Nah. I just wanted to see you put Nikki and Shawn through their paces, but it seems they already finished their training session,” Jill said as lightly as possible and pointed over to her colleagues, who were now talking to the stuntman.

Crash laid the staff across her shoulders and hooked her arms over it. “Yeah, you know actresses…fragile egos, fragile bodies.” She echoed Jill's playful tone. “Not much you can do with them.”

“Hey!” Jill tried to swat her on the shoulder, but Crash neatly sidestepped. Leaning closer, Jill lowered her voice and said, “There was a lot you could do with this actress's fragile body, if I remember correctly.”

Crash's eyes lit up, burning into Jill like a laser. Her breathing, which had calmed while they talked, hitched and then picked up. “Present company excluded, of course,” she said huskily.

“Of course,” Jill murmured.

They stood without talking, just looking into each other's eyes, until Shawn and Nikki joined them.

Jill handed over the call sheets.

“Thanks,” Shawn said without looking at the sheet of paper. She gazed at Crash instead and smiled at her. “Thanks again for showing me that flip.”

The way she looked at Crash made Jill remember what Shawn had said earlier, about making a play for Crash if she were gay.
Too bad for both of them that she isn't.
She kicked at the edge of a gymnastics mat. Shawn wasn't handicapped by an illness. She could do flips with Crash all she wanted, and she wasn't even aware of how lucky she was.

“Will you have to do a flip in tomorrow's scene?” Jill asked. “I thought it was just a jump.”

“It is, but it was fun trying some of the other stuff,” Shawn said. Then the younger actress's enthusiasm dimmed. “Too bad you can't try any of it.”

Yeah. Thanks for the reminder.
Jill bit back the remark and just shrugged, not wanting to admit how much her colleague's insensitive comment hurt.

“Who says she can't?” Crash turned to face Jill as if they were alone. “Do you want to try a stunt?”

Jill hesitated. On the one hand, she would have loved to do even a simple stunt, to prove to herself and the world that she could do it. But, on the other hand, if she got hurt, she would hold up production for weeks or even months. Could she really risk it just for her ego's sake?

“Trust me,” Crash said, her voice low. “You won't get hurt.”

“Okay. What do you want me to do?”

Crash turned, put down her staff, and rummaged through some of the equipment set along the wall.

It took considerable effort on her part to not watch the way the cargo shorts stretched over Crash's ass, but Jill wasn't an actress for nothing. She managed to appear entirely engrossed into the small talk with her colleagues.

Soon, Crash returned and handed Jill a bottle. “This is your chance to hit me over the head.”

Jill stared down at what looked like a wine bottle. “You want me to hit you…with this?”

“It's just candy glass,” Crash said.

“Candy glass?” Jill repeated. “So the worst thing that can happen is that you get a sugar rush if you accidentally lick it?”

Crash laughed. “No. Stunt glass used to be made of sugar, but nowadays it's made of a special kind of plastic. We still call it candy glass, though. It crumbles into tiny pieces, not into long shards like the real thing would. You can still get hurt, but it's much more unlikely, unless you land directly on the shards, like I did when we filmed that intruder scene.”

Jill tapped her nails against the fake glass. Okay, clearly not real glass, but still… “Didn't you have enough of glass stunts?”

“You know what they say… If you get thrown off the horse, you have to get back up on it as soon as possible. So…” Crash pointed at her head.

Hesitating, Jill hefted the bottle in her hand. This would have been a lot easier on Friday, when she'd been angry with Crash. But now…

“Let her be the person who gets the bottle smashed over her head,” Crash's colleague said.

Now Crash was the one who hesitated. “I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

“I thought it's safe.”

“It is, but…”

“What?” Jill asked, narrowing her eyes. “You think I can't do it?”

Nikki laughed and nudged Crash. “Oh, now you did it. Telling Jill she can't do something is like handing a match and a can of gasoline to a pyromaniac.”

A chuckle escaped Crash, and she gave Nikki a rueful nod.

“Come on, guys. I'm not that bad.”

“Right,” Nikki and Crash said in unison.

“I'm not.” Not backing down from a challenge was a good thing, wasn't it? Jill looked at Crash. “So?”

Finally, Crash held her hand out, and Jill laid the bottle into it.

“Do you want me to pretend to attack you?” Jill asked.

“No. If I hit you while you're moving, it gets harder to calculate the best angle. Let's do this one nice and easy.” Crash eyed Jill's head as if looking for the best spot to hit. She turned the neck of the bottle in her long fingers over and over.

Was it really as safe as Crash said? Why was she hesitating for so long?

“Ready?” Crash finally asked.

Jill nodded.

“Okay. Turn away from me a bit. It's best if I do this from behind, where your head is protected by your hair.”

Crash had probably done this a thousand times, and Jill trusted her skills, so she turned around without hesitation.

Behind her, Crash took an audible breath.

The bottle came down on the back of Jill's head and shattered with a sound that resembled that of breaking glass. Jill let out a pained groan and collapsed onto the gymnastics mat. Tiny fragments rained down around her.

Crash instantly crouched down next to her. “Jill! Oh God! Are you hurt?”

Jill sat up and laughed. “No. I just thought I'd give the stunt a little acting flair.” Being hit by the candy glass bottle hadn't hurt—at least not more than a light slap to the head.

“Wow. That looked cool,” Shawn said.

“It looked scary,” Crash grumbled. “The way you collapsed…”

“I'm fine.” Jill reached up to remove some little pieces of the fake glass from her hair.

“No!” Crash grabbed her hands and gently pulled them back down. “Don't do that. The fragments can still cut you.” As if to prove it, she pointed at her healing wound that no longer had a dressing over it. She guided Jill to bend over and carefully ran her fingers through Jill's hair.

Shivers ran through her, from her scalp to her toes, her body instantly reacting to Crash's touch.
Jeez. Now I have a Pavlovian response to her.

“You okay?” Crash asked.

“I'm fine.” With the last pieces of glass removed, Jill got to her feet and looked over at her colleagues. “Ta-da. There. I finally got to do a stunt.”

“Now you get to make a wish,” the stuntman said.

“A wish?”

“Yeah.” Crash nodded. “It's a tradition in the stunt business. When you get a bottle broken over your head for the first time, you get to make a wish.”

Jill gave her a teasing slap to the shoulder. “Oh, so that's why you wanted me to smash the bottle over your head—so you could make a wish.”

“Nope. I had my first bottle smashed over my head a long time ago,” Crash said.