"Great, I just love surprises." He rubbed his hands together then blew into them like he was cold. "Did you see my kissing fail?"
I frowned.
"The first take," he explained, chuckling, "I may have knocked out your sister's two front teeth and quite possibly given her a head injury. My kiss was more enthusiastic than smooth, and I'm pretty sure if anyone gets wind of that video, I'm going to get laughed out of Hollywood."
I quickly grabbed my phone.
Dani: You hit her?
"Ha," Lincoln set his hand on my lower back and led me through the few trailers next to each other. "No, I hit her teeth."
I burst out laughing.
"Get it out now," he grumbled. "Glad I could amuse you."
Dani: Is she okay?
"You would care about her." Lincoln flashed me a grin. "And she's just fine, though my ego's bruised a bit. I've been kissing women since I was twelve. No idea why the simple action suddenly seemed to be as hard as solving world hunger."
We stopped in front of his trailer.
His eyes widened a fraction as he crossed his arms, uncrossed them, then tapped his chin. "Um, Dani?"
I winced.
"Why does the sign on my trailer say LG?"
I shrugged.
"Like a homie."
I shrugged again.
Sighing, he opened the door.
I went in before him and prepared myself for a temper tantrum.
Instead, he grabbed a handful of Skittles — only red ones since I'd freaking picked them out of a five-pound bag — and lay back on the black leather couch.
Still waiting for him to say something, I stayed close to the door, just in case he threw something. I wouldn't be so freaked out if I hadn't seen one of the actors do that to his assistant a few minutes before I jogged down to the beach.
The actor, whose name was so small it was ridiculous that he even thought he had the right to act so privileged, was angry because his assistant had forgotten grapes.
Grapes, people!
"Looks good." Lincoln ran a hand through his ginger hair and patted the seat next to him. "You know you can sit, right? Your standing makes me feel like I need to stand."
I grabbed my phone.
Dani: You're not mad?
Lincoln pulled out his phone and tossed it onto the couch. "Why the hell would I be mad?"
Dani: The water bottles don't have your face on them.
Lincoln burst out laughing then frowned. "Oh… you're serious?
Dani: The list said your water bottles needed to be at room temperature and that the stickers of your face needed to be on the name brand because you hate name brands. But I couldn't find the damn stickers.
Lincoln smirked. "I would love to hear you curse. Out loud. I have a feeling it would be a huge turn… on." He paled. "Not that, that's exactly— You know what? Let me see that list."
Did he just say I turned him on?
Embarrassed, I fumbled for the list in my right front pocket then gave it to him. Our fingers touched, just barely, enough to still feel the tingle on my skin, even though we weren't touching anymore.
"The shades must be pulled three-quarters of the way down whenever the trailer is facing east?" Lincoln read aloud in his gravelly voice. "Who the hell cares?"
I typed on my phone.
Dani: Don't you?
"Sweetheart, I don't even know which direction east is, at least not without going outside and checking out where the sun rose. Besides, why would it matter?"
I shrugged.
He flipped the list over. "Uh, Dani?"
I nodded.
"Wrong list." He dangled it out. "This is for Matty Rose."
"Matty?" I mouthed. It must have surprised Lincoln because his eyes locked on my lips for at least five seconds before he shook his head.
"Some punk sixteen-year-old heartthrob who thinks this is going to be his big break because he gets to play the best friend, Evan."
Dani: Whoops?
"Yeah, let's just hope his assistant doesn't get fired for the shade incident."
I laughed.
Lincoln watched me. Not in a creepy I'm watching you laugh because I want to kill you way, but like he was curious.
"Linc!" Jaymeson pounded on the door. "Ready for the party scene?"
"Yup." He shot to his feet as the door pulled open.
Jaymeson looked more frantic than usual. "Dani, I need a solid."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Please!" Jaymeson clasped his hands together. "I'll buy you a pony."
"She's seventeen, not twelve," Lincoln pointed out.
"A car?" Jaymeson shrugged.
"Her car's brand new," Lincoln said in a bored voice.
"Holy shit!" Jaymeson jerked off his headset and pointed at Lincoln, "Help a man out, mate! I'm dying here!"
I tapped his shoulder and nodded my head as if to say "Ask."
"Party Girl One's plane got delayed. She won't be here, and the girl I need has blonde hair." He eyed my hair and smiled brightly. "Please?"
"Sour Patch Kids," Lincoln blurted. "I say you owe her a year's supply of Sour Patch Kids."
Jaymeson held out his hand. "Deal."
I took his hand and shook it just as Lincoln asked, "Isn't Party Girl One in a scene with me?"
"Yeah." Jaymeson was already walking away from us then turned on his heel and shouted, "She's the girl you make out with at the party."