❤️Mac❤️

It hurts. The realization that I am in love with my co-star physically hurts. I feel as if someone has punched a hole through my chest, leaving me with an ache so strong it's a struggle to breathe. How long have I been in love with Ryan? I had desperately hoped that the knowledge of my own feelings would stop me from falling completely for him. But no, I've done that despite everything.

I concentrate on trying to breathe as I grip the table next to me, willing myself to keep standing. I want to slump to the floor and cry, but there are people around me. We don't have the go-ahead from the director to go home yet. Since finishing the scene several minutes ago, the entire crew is standing around waiting for his cue.

Ryan suddenly appears out of nowhere with a bottle of water in his hand. I am unable to stop my gaze from wandering over his chest and body – to think that I just had my hands on them minutes earlier. I watch as he unscrews the cap and takes a sip from the bottle. He offers it to me, and I shake my head, aware as I do so that he is studying me.

"Are you okay?"

No, I feel as if I could fall apart at any moment. "I'm fine."

"We survived," he says.

I stare at him blankly, not knowing what he's on about.

"The kiss," he says.

"Oh."

He survived. I've just had a shocking, life-changing revelation, and now I have to deal with the fallout.

"I mean, I didn't want to let you go," Ryan's eyes darken. "I like kissing you. A lot. In case you hadn't figured it out already."

I feel the automatic clench of desire at his words—a warmth that spreads to the pit of my stomach. My heart pounds in my ears. God, the response I have to this man is unbelievable.

"Mac, are you sure you're okay?"

I grip the table tighter as I hear the concern in Ryan's voice. "I'm fine."

I will be fine. Just as soon as I get out of here and work out what I am going to do about this... disaster. I know for a fact that I need to put some distance between us.

"I'm just tired," I add.

"Let's get you out of here," Ryan says, before calling out to the director. "Mitch, are we done here?"

I look over at the director, who is watching the footage we just shot on his small monitor. He glances up and nods, before sticking his thumb up.

"We don't need another take. Go home. Get some rest. We'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning. Don't forget to drop your gear off tomorrow," Mitch says, motioning to our outfits.

I flash a grateful smile at Mitch. All I want to do right now is to get out the door and away from Ryan. The day has been enough of a rollercoaster without any more of it adding to my emotional turbulence. For the second time in my life, I am in love with a man who doesn't feel the same way I do.

Why do I keep making the same mistakes? Falling for men who don't want anything more from me than just casual sex? Okay, so Ryan is different, I know he values our friendship too. I should feel consoled by this, shouldn't I? Instead, the thought is like a knife through my heart. How can I lie to myself? I want so much more than that from him.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I tell Ryan, before heading for the door.

"Wait," Ryan reaches out and grabs hold of my arm. He pulls me round to face him. "Where are you going?"

"Mitch said we could go home."

"How are you getting there?"

"Umm, tram."

If I hadn't been so close to falling apart, I might have been sort of amused by the stunned expression on his face.

"You're obviously exhausted. Let me give you a lift."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure you're exhausted too. You should go straight home."

"I'm not leaving you to catch a tram," he says, sounding horrified.

"I'll be fine."

"Mac, you're so tired you can barely stand by yourself. Are you telling me you'd rather catch a midnight tram than get in the car with me?"

"It's not like that," I say.

✯Ryan✯

But it is like that. I’m trying not to feel hurt by Mac's obvious reluctance to accept a ride from me, but it is useless. I do feel hurt. A lot of things have changed in the past few months, but her sudden lack of desire to be around me is definitely the hardest to handle.

Last year, she wouldn't have hesitated to let me drive her home. Now, it seems as if she would rather walk the dark Melbourne streets alone or catch a tram by herself than get in the car with me. I know she has her reasons, but I can't help but miss the easy moments of friendship we shared before everything became so damn complicated between us.

Of course, part of my exhaustion also comes from this constant battle of having to fight my feelings towards her. I've done my best to push them down, but when we locked lips just now, they came raging to the surface again. The kiss damn near knocked me silly, just like the rest of the day had.

Holding Mac in my arms, and then having to let her go, was so hard that I almost didn't. I want her. Not just as someone to go to bed with. I want...more. The kind of 'more' that feels impossible, especially when Mac is trying to do everything in her power to avoid me.

With her job on the line and Blainesworth breathing down her neck, I understand her reasons, but it still sucks. The idea of Mac becoming my girlfriend has grown in my mind out of nowhere. Maybe it's the crazy-ass day, or maybe it's the feelings that keep surfacing no matter how hard I try to push them away. But it doesn't matter now, does it? It's not what she wants.

It's probably for the best. The chances of us lasting for any period of time in the industry that we work in are unlikely. To believe otherwise makes me delusional. I haven't yet had a relationship that lasted beyond three months. I might hope for things to be different with Mac, but how could I be sure?

Asking her to risk it all for something that may or may not work out would make me a selfish prick, and though Mum has accused me of being one on multiple occasions, I'm not. Or at least I try really hard not to be.

"I just... I could use some thinking time," Mac looks uncomfortable.

What she means is, she wants to avoid me, and she wants to think about Westlaker and his potential guest spot on Hart's Valley. I don't care how much Mac wants to avoid me. She can survive a ten-minute car ride in my presence, surely. As for Westlaker, Mac can think about him when she is home, safe and sound.

Besides, I really want to talk to her about Danny. I know Mac said that her job would be threatened by this, not mine. She’s not wrong. The way Blainesworth treated her today has been more than unfair. And I've stood by and allowed it. I want to let Mac know that if it ever comes down to it, I'll walk out on my job for her. In a heartbeat.

I will never allow Blainesworth to put her through the ringer again.

"Okay, so, you want thinking time," I say. "Let me drive you home, and then you can think somewhere nice and safe."

And then I can tell you I have your back, and maybe we can go back to being the friends that we used to be. I may not be able to have you in my life as anything else, but I'm not giving up on our friendship.

"It's fine, really."

"Would you just let me drive you home? Please? I'm not dropping this. I'm not risking my extremely talented co-star to public transport, as much as you purport to like it."

The idea of using public transport, after needing to drive everywhere on the farm, had been a novelty to Mac when she first moved to Melbourne. Though I am sure the novelty must have worn off now because she always said yes to a lift when I offered. Well, until now.

"I need to get a car," she mumbles as I place my hand on her lower back.

❤️Mac❤️

I close my eyes, trying not to lean into his touch. The warmth of his palm sends tingles through my skin, but I can't let myself give in to it. Ryan seemed hurt by my refusal, his jaw tightening when I turned down his offer. I know it must seem strange to him why I don't want to spend time with him right now, but I can't explain the turmoil inside me. I can't let him know that I'm in love with him, that being around him hurts so much. I don't want to jeopardize our working relationship or our friendship any further than I already have.

All I want is to go home and try to forget the fact that I'm in love with Ryan Moore. The sooner I get into his car and he drives me back to my place, the sooner I can put some distance between us.

I'm relieved to see his car parked right in front of the pub. Ryan unlocks it with his remote before opening the door for me, and I slide inside.

"It's been a crazy day," he says after we've been driving for a minute.

"Yeah," I agree. "It has."

"Especially with Danny showing up."

Anger flares up inside me. I should have known that his insistence on taking me home wasn't purely about concern for my safety. Ryan has been itching to talk about Danny ever since he found out about Danny's guest spot. As if the day isn't bad enough already.

"Blainesworth should have never put you in this position," Ryan continues.

"It's been a long day. I really don't want to talk about Danny," I say wearily.

"Why not?"

"It's really none of your business, Ryan."

I could have tried to soften my words, but I'm furious with him. Why can't he drop it?

"I thought we were friends," he says.

There's unmistakable hurt in his voice, but I force myself to ignore it. I refuse to look at him, holding onto my anger. Anger feels so much better than the ache of rejection and misery.

"It's my decision," I say firmly.

"Of course it is. I just don't want you to think you have to make this decision alone if you don't want to. Your friends are here for you."

"I know that," I reply. "But Blainesworth isn't threatening anyone else's job—"

"And he shouldn't be threatening yours. The headline was a load of crap."

That's what I deliberately led him to believe earlier when we talked in my dressing room, but it's not crap. It's anything but crap. Even though I hate to admit it, I'm going to have to agree to Danny's guest spot. I'm not doing it just to appease Blainesworth.

I need to do everything I can to make people forget about that damn headline. Danny is the distraction I need to save myself, my career, my reputation. I can say no and defy Blainesworth, or I can say yes and ensure everyone is watching me with Danny instead of me with Ryan.

"But he is threatening me," I say. "I don't want to lose this job, Ryan."

"He can't fire you when you haven't done anything wrong."

I'm pretty sure that Blainesworth would consider falling for my co-star "wrong."

"Working with Danny will get Blainesworth off my back. That's all I care about."

“I can't believe you're seriously considering agreeing to this," Ryan says, his voice filled with disbelief.

"It's my career on the line. I'm sure you can understand that," I reply, turning to face him.

I notice his jaw clench and a muscle twitch under his eye. I don't know why this situation matters so much to him, but Ryan needs to let go. Danny will only be around for a couple of weeks, at most. If I can handle working with my ex who betrayed me, my friends will have to handle it too.

"I wouldn't let Blainesworth fire you, Mac. I would walk out if he did. You don't have to do this. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or your job," Ryan says, determination in his voice.

His words leave me stunned, and I sit there in silence for a full minute. How can he casually talk about throwing his job away for me? Guilt. That must be the reason. Ryan feels guilty about the headline, about sleeping with me, and about the feelings I might have developed for him.

I turn my face away, staring out the windshield, trying to process everything. It's a sweet gesture, but I don't want him to sacrifice his job for me. This is my mess, and I can handle it. Ryan may not agree with my choices, but I don't want him to feel obligated to fight my battles.

"Listen, I appreciate you saying that, but—" I begin.

"I'm not just saying that. They're not empty words. If it ever came down to it, if I ever needed to, I would walk out on my job for you, Mac," he insists.

"But if I agree to Danny's guest spot, then neither of us has to worry about those consequences," I counter.

"Neither of us should be facing consequences at all, but you've already made up your mind, haven't you?" Ryan's voice reveals disappointment.

"Yes, I have," I admit, feeling a mix of determination and regret.

The car turns into my apartment complex, pulling into a guest parking spot before Ryan shuts off the engine.

"You still have feelings for him," Ryan says, his voice filled with anger. It's tempting to deny it, to tell him that I don't have feelings for Danny Westlaker, but I know where that conversation will lead. Ryan will keep pushing until he understands the reasons behind my agreement, and I'll be at risk of exposing my true feelings. If he wants to believe I have feelings for Westlaker, then so be it.

"Thanks for the ride," I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

I open the car door, hoping to make a quick escape, but I'm not fast enough. Ryan reaches out and grabs my wrist, his grip firm.

"Mac, he hurt you. He betrayed you. He led you on. Please don't fall for him again," he pleads, his eyes filled with concern.

I let out a quiet sigh, meeting his troubled gaze. I just need to get out of this situation.

"Goodnight, Ryan," I say, hoping to end the conversation and escape to the safety of my apartment.

✯Ryan✯

Three weeks later, I curse under my breath as I walk into The Red Jacket. The sight before me hits me like a punch to the gut—Mac sitting with Westlaker, laughing and talking over coffee. This used to be the place where Mac and I came together, back when we were still friends.

The past three weeks have felt like the worst breakup of my life, even though we were never officially together. Mac hasn't returned my calls, refuses to speak to me except when we have a scene together, and avoids eye contact unless the script demands it. I've never been more miserable.

She told me she was over Westlaker months ago, but clearly, that's not the case. I don't know if she lied about her feelings then or if they resurfaced when she saw him again. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that it hurts like hell.

Realizing that Mac still has feelings for her ex-boyfriend has left me utterly devastated. I can't sleep properly, I've lost my appetite, and I messed up several scenes last week. I don't know how I'm going to get through this scene today.

Of course, Blainesworth wasted no time incorporating Mac's ex-boyfriend into the script. They're going for the angle that will entertain viewers the most—a love triangle. Just three weeks ago, I held Mac in my arms and kissed her. Today, it'll be Westlaker doing the same. I don't want to witness the scene, but I have no choice. Stone is supposed to catch them making out.

Feeling overwhelmed by the impending scene, I decide to take a walk to clear my head. I never intended to end up at the café Mac and I used to frequent, but somehow, that's where I find myself. I certainly didn't expect to see Mac and Westlaker together here.

As if she senses my gaze, Mac turns around and locks eyes with me. The expression on her face reveals that she's far from pleased to see me. Confusion mingles with my grief and anger. Blainesworth is off her back now, and Hart's Valley's ratings are through the roof. So why is Mac still avoiding me? The headline is old news, and if she still has feelings for Westlaker, we don't need to keep our distance anymore. We don't need to fight an attraction when she's clearly still hung up on her ex.

It's ridiculous to think that just three weeks ago, I asked her about the truth behind the headline. If she ever had any feelings for me, they're certainly gone now. That realization hurts so much that it steals my breath. I need to leave before I do something foolish, like demand answers from Mac or confront Westlaker.

But before I can make my escape, our usual waitress spots me and rushes over.

"Ryan, hey! It's been a while," Becca greets me.

"Sure has," I reply, forcing a smile and stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"I'll bring your coffee over," she says before hurrying off.

My inner turmoil must have been noticeable because Becca nods in Mac's direction. I consider telling the waitress that I'll take my coffee to go, but she's already gone.

I contemplate leaving when Mac glances back at me again. For a brief moment, vulnerability and pain flicker in her eyes before disappearing, and she resumes her conversation with Westlaker. What the hell? Is she upset about something he said? She seems fine now, though.

If her reaction wasn’t about Westlaker, then it must be about me. There must be something I did wrong. I've hurt her somehow, and I have no idea what I’ve done, but I need to find out. I deserve the chance to apologize and make things right, don't I? As devastated as I am by Mac's lingering feelings for Westlaker, it seems I still have a chance to repair our friendship—a friendship I've been missing far too much.

Decision made, I walk through the café and pull out a seat at the four-seater table where Mac and Westlaker are sitting. I won't leave until she tells me why we aren't friends anymore. If that means sitting next to Westlaker, then so be it. There isn't much I wouldn't do to have Mac back in my life in any way possible.

Ep. 13

✯Ryan✯

My head spins so fast I'm worried it might fall off my shoulders. Westlaker is here? Wasn't he supposed to be headed for Hollywood to shoot his big movie? My confusion quickly morphs into fury as I take in Mac's stunned expression.

"Mac, are you okay?" Jazz asks.

"I'm fine. Just... surprised. What could he want with Blainesworth?"

"There's something else I have to tell you," Jazz says.

"Do I need to sit down?"

"On the same day the headline came out about you and Ryan, there was a story about Danny and Angel. They broke up. I would have said something earlier, but I thought you had enough on your plate at the time."

"Right."

"Besides, I wasn't sure whether you would be interested or not..."

"That doesn't explain what Westlaker is doing here," I growl.

For some reason, I can't bear to hear Mac's reply to Jazz's comment. She told me months ago that she was over Westlaker. And I sure as hell hope it's true. I don't want to think about the alternative, that my co-star still harbours feelings for her prick of an ex.

Jazz gives me a pointed look. "Why don't you go find out?"

I know Jazz is just trying to get rid of me so she can speak to Mac privately, but I don't care. It's a damn good idea.

"I think I will," I say.

Exiting the dressing room swiftly, I leave the two women behind without a word. I navigate the hallway and ascend the stairs, finding myself outside Blainesworth's executive office.

A sudden burst of laughter fills the air as the door swings open, revealing Danny Westlaker stepping out.

"It was great to see you again, Mick," Danny says.

Blainesworth's voice follows, "Come back as soon as you've talked to Mackenzie."

It's all I can do not to grab the guy by the collar and tell him that if he so much as puts a foot anywhere near Mac, he can consider himself as good as dead. Westlaker closes the door behind him.

"Hey, how's it going?" he sticks out his hand. "Danny Westlaker."

Though we've both been to the Logies and various after-parties over the years, this is our first real conversation. I never had strong feelings about Westlaker before, but after hearing what he did to Mac, my opinion shifted. Now, I can’t stand the guy. The dick in front of me hadn't just treated her badly – he broke her heart.

Not only is it infuriating to me, it's also completely baffling. Mac is pretty much the perfect woman. Sweet-natured, beautiful, caring, and a fine actress to boot. The blonde whom Westlaker dumped her for has nothing on her. Nothing. His loss, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to curl my fingers into my palms and beat him to a bloody pulp.

Maybe it's best I don't ask Westlaker why he's here. The potential for our conversation to end in violence is high. He may look as if he knows the inside of a gym well, but he's two inches shorter. I can take him easily, should it ever come to that. Some of the tension leaves my body.

"I know who you are," I say, ignoring his outstretched hand. "Stay away from Mac."

I leave Westlaker standing there and knock on Blainesworth's door a couple of times before opening it and sticking my head in.

"Ryan, son, come in, come in," Blainesworth waves me in. I know I'm supposed to make an appointment with Amanda, Blainesworth's assistant, for any visit that may last more than a few minutes, but this won't take long.

I sit down opposite the producer. "I hope you don't mind my dropping by."

"Not at all. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering what Danny Westlaker is doing in this neck of the woods."

Blainesworth leans back in his chair and curiously appraises me. "And would your interest be personal or professional?"

Aware of the conversation our producer just had with Mac, I don't want to admit it's personal. I don't want to give Blainesworth any more reason to go after her or believe we’re involved in any way. Explaining the article to him seems meaningless now, especially when Mac had told me she isn't falling for me.

"Professional," I answer finally.

Blainesworth continues to study me. "You know, I had Mackenzie in here earlier today. She assured me that the two of you aren't seeing each other."

"She was telling the truth," I say.

"Good. I'm sure you already know I don't approve of involvement between cast members, and Mackenzie spiralled badly when her last relationship ended."

"Yes, I do," I draw in a breath. "Which is why I don't understand what Westlaker is doing here. He was the one who pushed her into that spiral."

"I'm afraid those questions would be better directed at Danny himself. He has his reasons for being here, and it's not my place to share them."

"Then, can you tell me he's not going to be working with us on Hart's Valley? Mac isn't the only person who would have a problem with that. I think I speak for the whole cast when I say we'd all find that... unacceptable."

"I'm well aware of the way the cast of Hart's Valley has knit together and formed close bonds, and I have no intention of offering Danny a permanent spot on the show. However, Hart's Valley isn't the only production I may or may not have up my sleeve right now."

"Okay," I say.

So, it sounds like Blainesworth has another show in the pipeline and he is looking to hire Westlaker for that. Honestly, I'd be a million times happier if the other man leaves the country and stays far away from Mac, but at least Blainesworth isn't expecting them to work together.

"Danny and I were, however, discussing the idea of him doing a brief guest spot on Hart's Valley," Blainesworth says. "But only if it was something Mackenzie felt comfortable with."

"You're joking, right?"

The words slip out before I can hold them back.

"Just for one or two weeks," Blainesworth says. "She might decide she can put the past behind her. In fact, it could be the best thing for her. Give her a chance to show her critics her mettle."

What a load of bullshit. This is about nothing more than ratings and exploitation. How many of our viewers, and Junction Hospital viewers, would tune in to see if Mackenzie Lauren and Danny Westlaker can still heat up the screen like the old times?

The idea of Mac and Danny Westlaker having any on-screen chemistry makes me want to retch.

"You can't ask Mac to work with him again," I say.

"The decision is hers," Blainesworth says coolly. "And hers only. If she doesn't want to work with him, all she has to do is say no."

❤️Mac❤️

Mac "Are you really okay?" Jazz asks me for what feels like the fifteenth time. At first, her revelation had stunned me, but now that the shock of hearing Danny's name has worn off, I can honestly say I'm a lot calmer than I would have been some months ago.

My ex-boyfriend's presence here doesn't change the fact that I still have to kiss Ryan tomorrow. My job is still on the line. In other words, Danny Westlaker is the least of my worries.

"Because this must have come as a shock."

"I guess it was, but I'm over it now."

Jazz looks at me in disbelief.

"I shouldn't give him a second thought until we know for sure why he's here, right?"

"So, you don't want to talk about this?"

"I really don't."

"Okay then. If we're done talking about Danny, can we talk about your meeting with Blainesworth?"

"I told you-"

"Or what's going on between you and Ryan."

I cross my arms across my chest. "There's nothing going on between us."

"Then why did Brad say this morning that Ryan was supposed to be keeping his distance from you?"

"What?" My heart drops.

A hesitant knock sounds on the door.

"Hang on," Jazz instructs, holding up her hand before walking to the dressing room door and pulling it open.

"Hey, is Mac here?"

I know who it is without seeing his face. There was a time when Danny's voice would have made my knees buckle. Thankfully, those reactions are completely absent now. Hardly surprising, I suppose, considering how I feel about Ryan.

"Mac, it's for you."

I step around Jazz to see Danny standing in doorway. Even though his voice doesn't affect me the way it used to, I still expected to feel something when I saw him.

I take in his short sandy blond hair and deep blue eyes, and all I feel is... sadness. Once upon a time, I was so taken with this man that I almost threw my career away for him. He promised me we had something special and led me to believe he cared about me. Then he took his fill of me and dumped me for his next leading lady.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him.

"Can't an old friend just drop in to say hi?"

Danny offers me a lopsided grin – the kind that used to send my heart into overdrive. Now it simply makes me wary.

"We aren't friends. We were never friends."

"Mac, if you don't need me, I'm going to go and hunt down some sugar and caffeine," Jazz interrupts.

I nod to her, letting her know I will be fine by myself.

"I'm sorry," Danny says.

I shrug. I don't care for his apology. It's overdue now, and he’s only here because he wants something. I just don't know what it is yet.

"I've moved on," I say.

"To Ryan Moore?"

At Ryan's name, my stomach flips and my pulse quickens. Does Danny know? Something must have shown on my face because Danny takes one look at it and quickly puts his hands up. "There are rumours," he says.

"There always are."

He has no right to ask me anything about my personal life.

"I bumped into him when I came out of Michael's office. Honestly, I thought he was going to knock my teeth out. Then he told me to stay away from you."

"I wish you'd taken his advice," I say.

"Mac, can we, you know, try and move past what happened between us?"

"I haven't heard from you since I got dumped from Junction Hospital, Danny. Why are you here? What do you want?"

He sighs. "I don't know if you heard, but Angel and I broke up."

"I heard," I say unsympathetically.

"I know you probably don't care to hear this, but I was very much in love with her." He corrects himself. "Still am in love with her."

"You're right. I don't care to hear that."

"She left me for one of the extras on Junction Hospital," he says with a wry smile.

"My heart bleeds for you," I tell him, though I am quietly amused.

That must have been a blow to his ego. Danny always considered himself to be in a league above all of us when it comes to acting, even Angel and myself. Being dumped for an extra couldn't have been something he expected.

"She cheated on me, and when I caught her she broke it off, kicked me out of the house we'd just bought together, and told me she didn't love me anymore."

Raising an eyebrow, I ask, "Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?"

He sighs. "Can I come in? Please?"

I don't want him here in my dressing room, but he obviously needs to talk to me about something. Reluctantly, I move aside.

"Thank you," he says, walking past me and taking a seat on the sofa in the room. "You know, I never knew. I never knew how hard it must have been for you... to work with me until I tried working with Angel after she dumped me."

"It wasn't easy, and in the end, I couldn't," I turn around to face him.

"I'm sorry for the pain that I caused you."

He really is sorry. I can see that. His eyes are full of genuine sympathy – his expression remorseful.

"I can't work with her," he continues. "I've tried, but I can't. My contract is up, and I don't want to renew it."

"Well, I guess it's lucky you have your movie deal."

"It fell through."

I look at him blankly. "I thought the contract was ironclad."

"I did too. But then Bryce Webster came back to them after reconsidering the role and decided he wanted it. Turns out those Hollywood lawyers can work magic when they want to. Bryce is in. I'm out."

Do I actually feel sorry for him now? Maybe. Just a little bit. It sounds as though he has suffered quite a lot lately. And he does seem genuinely sorry for what he put me through.

"I'm expecting it to be all over the news tomorrow," he says.

"At least you're prepared for it," I say.

It is easier to deal with the headlines when they are expected. But when they come out of left field, it isn't just the damage they leave behind that one has to deal with, it’s the shock too.

"As prepared as I can be. Anyway, I'm pained to admit it, but I'm here to ask the enemy for my next job."

I smile. The rivalry between Junction Hospital's production company and Hart's Valley's production company is well known in our business. Now that Danny Westlaker is essentially back on the market, Blainesworth will be itching to get his hands on him.

Does that mean I have to work with him again? Apologies aside, his presence here still makes me uneasy. I don't want to be his co-star again.

"You want to work on Hart's Valley?" I ask.

Danny shakes his head. "Blainesworth has something else lined up." He pauses for a moment. "He did mention something about a guest spot on Hart's Valley, though. Depending on whether you agree or not, of course."

"A guest spot?"

"Just until they start shooting the pilot I signed on for."

I shake my head.

"Just think about it," he pleads. "Blainesworth said he wants an answer within forty-eight hours."

"He did, did he?" I ask coldly.

The producer had hauled me into his office this morning to grill me about my relationship with my current leading man. Now he wants me to work with the previous leading man I "lost it" over? I want to barge into his office and call him all kinds of names that will no doubt land me in a lot of trouble.

"He thought you might want a chance to undo some of the negative press that stemmed from our break-up."

I don't believe for a moment that's it. Executive producers only care about one thing – ratings. I know people will be interested to see the two of us working together again. Blainesworth is probably sitting in his office right now, rubbing his hands in glee as he thinks about outdoing Junction Hospital in the ratings. All at my expense.

"It would just be for two to three weeks tops, Mac. Will you think about it?"

Do I even have a choice? If I say no, would that get me into even more trouble with our producer? Will my job be at risk if I refuse? I don't want to agree to their demands, but this could just be the ticket to get Blainesworth off my case. It has been such a long day, and I can't think this through properly right now.

"Give me the forty-eight hours," I tell him tiredly.

I bite my bottom lip and try to focus on the script in my hands. I had been counting on being at home when I did my last read-through for this scene. However, due to a location issue, my kiss scene with Ryan has been rescheduled at the last minute. Instead of shooting first thing tomorrow morning, it has been moved to be the last scene we are shooting today.

Now, it’s eleven o'clock at night, and we’re sitting in the Pint and Elephant Pub in South Yarra waiting to shoot. Even though the director, Mitch Davis, will call us over at any moment, I don't feel ready or prepared. I haven't mastered the scene. I’m on edge because I don't know how I’m going to react when Ryan kisses me. If our past kisses are any indication, I’m in a lot of trouble.

As it stands, I am too scared to look at Ryan. Every time I do, I can't stop myself from staring at his mouth and remembering the way he kissed me, the feeling of him buried deep inside me. I feel my lower belly contract with desire at the memory. God, what if I say Ryan's name instead of Stone's on set? You have to focus, Mackenzie. Focus!

"You should have said no straight away."

As if I don't have enough to deal with, Ryan hasn't stopped hassling me about the fact that I've agreed to consider Danny's guest spot. I don't need to tell him what Danny wanted; our producer has already filled him in. Now everyone else knows. It is impossible to keep secrets for very long when we are all friends. How much longer will it be until the whole cast knows how I feel about Ryan?

"I don't understand why you're thinking about this," he says when I remain silent.

"Maybe that's because your job hasn't been threatened in the past twenty-four hours, Ryan."

I immediately regret the sharpness of my tone, but I’m tired and grumpy, and after the long day I’ve had, I don't want to discuss Danny with Ryan. I know Ryan cares about me, but only as a friend, so it really isn't any of his business whether I agree or not.

My decision doesn't affect him. He has nothing to lose and nothing to gain either way. We aren't together. I'm not his girlfriend, and he's made it clear he wants nothing more than casual sex, although that offer was pretty much been withdrawn after the article came out.

"Blainesworth can't fire you for not working with Westlaker."

"I know that, but he can make my life difficult, and maybe I just want to get him off my back."

"Mac-"

"Listen, I appreciate your concern, but we're about to go on set, and I don't want to talk about my ex-boyfriend now."

✯Ryan✯

I clamp my mouth shut. Mac clearly doesn't want to hear my thoughts on the matter, which is frustrating as hell. I know I don't have a say in the matter, but I want one anyway. Her reluctance to discuss it is only adding to my bad mood.

Ever since I talked to Blainesworth, anger and frustration have been boiling away inside me. I’m furious with this entire situation. And the longer I think about Blainesworth threatening Mac, the angrier I feel. Where does our producer get off? He had no right to threaten Mac when her performances and attitude on set have always been phenomenal. Our personal lives are none of Blainesworth's business. It shouldn't matter to him what Mac's relationship is with me or what her feelings are, as long as she can still function the way she needs to, and no harm comes to the show.

To hear Mac say she is considering working with her arse-clown ex-boyfriend because she feels like her job is at stake makes me enraged. The scene we’re shooting is in a small pub. I should probably do a last-minute read-through like Mac, but what I really want to do is get behind the bar and start breaking things.

Maybe there’s an advantage to this. I’m so mad right now that I've stopped worrying about needing to kiss Mac in a few minutes. My focus is entirely on the messed-up situation Mac is in. Not to say I hadn’t taken a second look when Mac walked out of make-up earlier dressed in a leather jacket, lowcut top and short skirt, but my anger overrides everything else.

"Ryan, Mac, let's go," the director shouts.

That is until Mac shoots me a nervous look, and I am suddenly nervous too. I can feel butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies? Really? I’m a man. I'm not supposed to get butterflies. Then again, Mac has a way of making me feel things I've never felt before.

When Mac's gaze slides to my mouth, I feel lust pour through me. Her eyes darken, and she traces her lower lip with her tongue before her gaze flicks back up and meets mine.

"We'll be fine," I say.

Hopefully, she has no idea I’m trying to reassure myself as much as I’m trying to reassure her. Judging by the uncertainty in her eyes, however, she may have guessed.

"Ready?" the director asks.

❤️Mac❤️

I want to shake my head. I want to bolt for the exit and not look back, but I can't. At least with this scene being brough forward, everyone who isn't needed for the take has gone home. Meaning, it’s just me, Ryan, some extras, the director, and our camera crew. No Blainesworth. No co-stars. I can do this.

I take my position on the bar stool as instructed and wait for them to call action. My heart starts to beat erratically as Ryan comes to sit down beside me. As soon as my eyes lock with his, I can feel the change I always feel when we both step into character. I stumble a little over my first two lines, but no one calls cut, and we continue to push through the scene.

Soon enough, I find myself slipping into the easy pattern Ryan and I usually fall into while we work together. I do my best to look jealous as the female bartender flirts with Stone and walks away.

"Well, it wouldn't be a normal day in Hart's Valley without every woman in town fawning all over you, would it?"

"Is that jealousy I detect in your voice, Brianna? Because you know, just say the word, and I'll show you what you're missing out on."

"Pfft, why would I be jealous of them, Stone? If they knew you, they'd stay away from you like I try to."

He looks at his watch. "You've chosen to sit here and talk to me for the past twenty minutes. You can't think I'm too bad," he says with a grin that makes my legs feel wobbly.

"I have no idea what I was thinking," I say.

"You know, Brianna, you used to sound a lot more convincing when you were pretending to hate me."

"I was never pretending."

I hop down from my stool, but Ryan follows me, grabbing my arm so I can't leave.

He brushes one finger down the side of my face. "Are you sure about that? Are you sure you're not trying to cover how you really feel? What you really want?"

"And what would that be?"

"This."

Ryan lowers his mouth to mine. I freeze, just like the script suggests I am supposed to do, before I wrench my mouth from his and try to push him away.

"It's pointless to fight this. Trust me, I've tried," he says. "This is bigger than us."

Then his lips are crashing down on mine, and I forget to breathe. I forget to think. I forget what is in the script and the fact that we have an audience. My blood rushes around my body, and my heart goes crazy. My hands clutch at his jacket so I can pull him closer.

One of his hands tangles in my hair so he can hold me in position while he deepens our kiss. The hot wet slide of his tongue against mine causes me to shake from the violent need surging through me. And when I feel his body harden against mine, I can't hold back my moan of approval. I can't hold back at all.

I let my hands stroke over his chest, caressing and touching the hard muscles before moving up to grab his broad shoulders. I don't know when I can do this again. I don't know when he'll be back in my arms again.

All too soon, he's pulling away from me, our kiss over. "Are you really going to stand there and deny how you feel about me, Brianna? After that?"

"You're an arrogant jerk," I say nowhere near as coolly as I am supposed to say it. "That's how I feel about you."

"You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself. You're better than that," he tells me before he walks away from me.

At least I haven't forgotten my lines, which is lucky considering Ryan's words hit me like a punch in the gut—even if they are Stone's. Can I stand here and deny how I feel about him? Can I lie to myself? No, not anymore.

I’m not falling in love with my co-star. I’m in love with my co-star. I am one hundred percent, truly, deeply in love with Ryan Moore. And as soon as he gets over the attraction he feels towards me and moves on to the next woman who takes his fancy, I already know he will shatter me worse than Danny ever did.

Heavy applause brings me back to earth with a crash. They’re applauding—the director, the extras, and the crew are all clapping. I may be destined for heartbreak, but at least I nailed my scene.

Ep. 12

✯Ryan✯

"Where's Mac?" It is the first question that pops out of my mouth when I finally reach the set on Wednesday morning. We will be shooting a scene with Brad and Jazz shortly, but I can't spot her anywhere.

I know she’s avoiding me. After our one-off and the headline about her that broke on Sunday, Mac has had 'stay away from me' written all over her face. Guilt has forced me to respect her silent wish, but this isn't like her. She’s never been late on set. In fact, I can't recall a time in the past when I’ve arrived before she did.

Jazz glances up from the script she’s reading. "She got called into Blainesworth's office," she says.

"What? When?"

"Ten minutes ago," Brad answers, glaring at me. He looks furious.

My guilt-metre skyrockets. I hoped like hell that our executive producer wouldn't listen to the gossip, but knowing Mac's history, there’s a possibility Blainesworth will be interested and concerned over the content of the article.

Brad clearly thinks so too. He pulled me aside during the barbecue on Sunday, telling me in no uncertain terms that if Mac ended up hurt through any involvement with me, it would be the end of our friendship. I know Brad cares about Mac, but still, it was a shitty conversation to have. Aside from my sister, Mac is the most important person in my life. Hurting her is the last thing I ever want to do. And Brad should know me well enough to understand that.

"You should have seen her face, Ryan," Jazz says. "It was awful."

"That would have meant Romeo actually had to be here on time," Brad says snidely.

After tossing and turning all night, I finally fell asleep around five am. It’s the third morning in a row I’ve slept through my alarm. My head is a mess. My first on-set kiss with Mac is tomorrow, and with the way things are between us now, I can't stop worrying about it.

I've only been able to draw comfort from the fact that the article hadn't caught our executive producer's attention. But I can’t even comfort myself with that anymore. Fear clutches at me as I think about all the things Blainesworth will say to Mac. I have to fix this.

I may not be able to go back in time and change the fact I’d been photographed with Mac on Friday night. I can, however, tell our producer that it was a misunderstanding and that there's no truth to the article published by a popular gossip magazine.

"I'll be back shortly," I say.

Brad's arm darts out to stop me.

"He doesn't want to see you, Romeo," Brad says. "Just Mac."

"Well, he's going to see me anyway," I shoot back at him.

"You go storming in there, and you'll only make everything worse. You'll give Blainesworth even more reason to be suspicious."

"I can't stand here and do nothing."

"Yes, you can. You've done enough already, don't you think?"

"Brad," Jazz says sharply. "There's nothing going on between them. Right, Ryan?"

Brad shakes his head. "If that's the truth, then why the hell is she in Blainesworth's office right now?"

"Mac was drunk. We all know she could barely stand by herself on Friday night," I say. "Someone took a photo and made a few accusations, and now it's all being blown out of proportion. And if you let me go right now, I can actually explain that to Blainesworth and stop this from going any further."

"One, Mac can say all that herself. Two, get your head out of the sand. It's not the photo he's going to want to talk to her about," Brad says angrily. "The last time she had a relationship with someone she worked with, it didn't work out so well. Or don't you remember that?"

"Of course I remember, but we're not having a relationship."

"So you say," Brad says.

"You think I'm lying?"

"I don't know, man. You were supposed to keep your distance."

"Wait," Jazz says. "Why would Ryan be keeping his distance?"

"Ask Ryan," Brad shrugs.

Jazz turns to me. "What's he talking about?"

I glare at Brad, but he doesn't show any remorse for his slip. He looks back at me evenly.

"Nothing," I say.

I don't know how to explain to Jazz what is going on between Mac and me. I don't even understand it myself. How do I explain that I've done everything I can to keep my distance, but nothing has worked? That the pull between us is just too strong? Jazz wouldn't understand, and if she finds out that I've slept with Mac, she will definitely kill me. How will I have a chance to fix things then?

"Our friend isn't here right now," Brad says curtly. "If anything happens to her, it will be because of you."

"You're not being fair," Jazz says.

"Nothing's going to happen," I say, though fear grips my insides like a vice.

"How can you be sure?" Brad demands. "Have either of you actually asked her if there was any truth to the headline?"

I raise an eyebrow and give my friend a sceptical, wide-eyed stare. "What am I supposed to say to her, Brad? Hey Mac, are you falling for me?"

"Yeah, maybe. I don't know," Brad admits. "But if she is, she's as good as finished here. What happens when you start dating someone new? Or your name hits the headline with the party twins again? She's going to spin out."

"You're not giving her enough credit," Jazz tells Brad. "Mac is a different person from the one she was when Danny broke up with her. She'd never let it affect her the same way. And I'm sure Ryan hasn't led her on or encouraged her."

"I would never deliberately hurt her. Surely both of you know that," I say.

"Then I guess you can sleep peacefully if Mac does end up losing her job," Brad says.

His insinuation slices through me like a knife. If I tried to imagine, even for a second, Mac not being here... well, I just can't. I can't imagine Hart's Valley without Mackenzie Lauren. I can't imagine working with someone else. Her sparkling eyes and her brilliant smile. I can't imagine my life without her in it. Shit. What does that mean?

"I need some air," Brad says.

"If there's any truth at all to what Brad said, you have to fix this, Ryan," Jazz says as we both watch Brad disappear. "I swear, if you break her heart the way Danny did..."

With that, Jazz walks away from me too.

❤️Mac❤️

"Mackenzie, do you know why I wanted to see you this morning?"

I wonder if this is some kind of trick question. I spotted the Women's Daily News magazine the second I walked into Michael Blainesworth's sunlit office. The damning headline lying across his large maple desk. When both Monday and Tuesday rolled by and my presence wasn't requested, I'd been lulled into a false sense of security.

It turned out, however, that Blainsworth wasn't in the office, and that was why nobody had heard anything from him. When his assistant showed up on set this morning with a message that the executive producer wanted to see me, my head had been sent into a tailspin. Now I’m doing my best to hold it together.

He can't fire me, can he? I haven't done anything to jeopardize Hart's Valley. In fact, considering that the season two premiere airs this week, the publicity will probably give us a boost in the ratings. That will be good for the show. However, given my reputation for "losing it" on set, Blainesworth wants me to assure him that I'm not headed for another leading-man meltdown.

"Yes, I know why I'm here," I say.

"Good. I'm just going to ask you straight out, Mackenzie. Are you involved in any way with Ryan Moore?"

"We're friends," I say, relieved I don't have to worry about the ethics of lying to my boss. I’m speaking but the truth. "That's all."

Blainesworth smiles at me, his blue-grey eyes crinkling at the corners, shaving ten years off his fifty-year-old face. "I'm very happy to hear you say that, Mackenzie. While I couldn't stop you and Ryan from seeing each other, I would have been concerned about what it would mean for the future of Hart's Valley."

"I'd like to think that the mistakes I've made are in my past. I've learned from them."

He smiles at me and nods. "You fit in here very well, Mackenzie. Your character is well-liked by our viewers, and we have a very exciting storyline planned out for Brianna and Stone that will boost your popularity even further."

"Thank you."

"But make no mistake; the future of Hart's Valley will always be my number one priority."

"Of course."

"While your character is popular, and the chemistry between you and Moore is palpable, no one is irreplaceable."

"I understand."

"After what happened on Junction Hospital, some would have said that choosing you for the role of Brianna Davis was somewhat risky. In terms of risk, I'd say it's paid off so far, but should that change... Take my advice, Mackenzie. Make your career your number one priority while you're working on Hart's Valley. Am I making myself clear?"

I swallow hard and nod. "Yes. Absolutely."

I don't need it spelled out for me. If I become involved with my leading man again, or my work suffers from an involvement with Ryan, I’ll lose my job.

"Good."

He beams at me again, as if he never just threatened to rip the rug out from underneath me and end my career.

"Now, I believe you're expected on set soon."

"Yes."

"Then I should let you get back to it. There is another pressing matter I need to discuss with you, but that can wait until later. Have a good day, Mackenzie."

I glare at the door of the dressing room I share with Jazz, wishing the person knocking on it would stop and leave me alone. My best friend is on set shooting another scene, and I am grateful for the quiet that has allowed me time to process the meeting with Blainesworth.

After I left his office this morning, my co-stars immediately gathered around me. I brushed off their concern with a vague sort of answer. I didn't want them to worry about me. Now that everyone is on set, I’m grateful they’re distracted. Frankly, it hadn’t been easy to brush their worries off, especially Ryan’s.

I’m pretty sure that Ryan's concern was laced with guilt, but he doesn't need to worry. I was the one who drank so much on Friday night that I couldn't walk by myself. I was the one who asked him for a ride home, which set off this whole mess of a situation. And I was the one who couldn't keep my feelings out of the equation. This is my fault. Just mine.

The knocking persists, followed by the rattle of someone trying to open the locked door.

"All right, all right, I'm coming."

"I was starting to think you weren't in there," Ryan says when I pull the door open.

Just the sight of him throws me off balance. Ryan is still in the grey suit pants and white shirt he was wearing earlier on set, but he has removed the jacket. His sleeves are rolled up and the top buttons of his shirt are open, showing off his tanned skin and hard chest. Ryan's eyes seem darker than usual as he takes in the sight of me.

"Is it okay if I come in? I need to talk to you, Mac."

I ignore the punch of his aftershave and the shiver of awareness that runs down my back as he walks past me. It's ridiculous that I've lost all ability to think. Will I ever forget the cellular memory of his mouth and hands on me? The dressing room is by no means small, but it suddenly feels like a shoebox. I shut the door behind me and turn around to face him.

Ryan's hazel eyes lock with mine immediately. The flecks of green in them are more prominent today, and I have the strangest feeling that he’s drinking me in, as though this is the first time we've seen each other in months, even though it can't be more than a few hours. His gaze slides down to my mouth and I feel my heart thump loudly in my ears.

Without the distraction of a script to follow or the presence of people around us, the longing and desire I feel for him all comes rushing back to me with a force that is almost painful.

I've done my best to avoid him since the barbecue on Sunday. Resisting him after sleeping with him is even more difficult than it had been. Our once-off hadn’t been anywhere near enough to dull the desire I feel for him. Not that he wants to sleep with you now that he suspects you’re in love with him. I flinch at the voice in my head.

"What's up?" I ask him, thankful my voice sounds stronger than I feel.

"I wanted to be with you in that meeting you had with Blainesworth earlier, but Brad said it would look bad if I made an appearance."

"He was probably right."

Of course, it didn't escape my attention that Ryan hadn't been called into the meeting. Blainesworth doesn't give a fig about what Ryan Moore does. Australia's Romeo is one of the best actors in the country, and our producer will never let him go. Besides, Ryan is as professional as they come - not that he has any reason not to be. He isn't the one falling in love with his co-star.

"How did it go? What did the boss have to say?" he asks.

I shrug. "Just that I should make my career my number one priority while I'm here. He doesn't want to see my work suffer."

"None of us do," Ryan says. "I mean, you're part of Hart's Valley - our friend. I can't imagine not working with you, Mac."

Even though his words are sincere, they send an arrow through my heart. I don't want to lose my role on Hart's Valley either. However, the threat of losing my job isn’t the reason my eyes are suddenly stinging. Ryan said he can’t imagine not working with me, and that says everything about how he feels about me, doesn't it? I’m just his co-star – someone he enjoys working with, and someone he had wanted to sleep with. Beyond that, I am nothing more to him.

Pain rips through me, making me feel as if I’m being torn apart at the seams. I whip around and try to busy myself with organizing the makeup on the ledge of the wall, ensuring Ryan can't see the tears in my eyes.

This is good, isn't it? I needed the cold hard slap of reality to bring my life back into focus. Blainesworth just threatened my job today, and yet here I am, wanting things from Ryan that he is incapable of giving me. What does that say about me?

The entire feminist movement would be outraged if they could hear my thoughts right now. Where is my pride? Being rejected by a man isn't the end of my world. I thought it was when Danny rejected me, but I survived. I will get through this too. If I survived then, I will survive now.

"Providing I don't...lose sight of what I'm doing here, I should be fine," I say.

I feel Ryan's warm hand on my shoulder, but I don't turn around. Instead, I fiddle with the perfume bottle in my hands.

"Are you...losing sight of anything?"

I know what he is asking. Apparently, after my meeting with Blainesworth, Ryan decides he now needs to know how I feel about him. Like our producer, he is probably anxious that I am headed for a meltdown.

In the mirror, I can feel Ryan's eyes boring into mine, but I can't bring myself to meet his gaze. I don't know what to say to him. Discussing my feelings with him is the last thing I want to do.

If I tell Ryan the truth, that I am indeed falling for him, he will either point out the obvious, that my job is at stake, using it as an excuse for why we can't be together. Alternatively, he’ll break it to me gently that he doesn’t feel the same way about me. Either way, it will hurt like hell. My only option is to lie to him. Can I do that?

"Mac?"

✯Ryan✯

My world stands still as Mac finally looks up in the mirror, her eyes locking with mine. Her eyes are bright and resolute. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to say to her when I knocked on her dressing room door. I just needed to make sure she was okay - that we are okay. I needed her to know how worried I was—how much I care about her.

Despite Brad's suggestion this morning, I hadn't planned to waltz in here and question Mac about her feelings for me. The question just slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. But I do want to know. I’ve tried to push it to the back of my mind, but as soon as Mac opened the door and let me in, it’s been front and centre in my thoughts.

I hold my breath as Mac turns around to face me.

"No," she says coolly. "I'm not losing sight of anything."

She isn’t falling for me. I should feel relief at her words, but instead, it's like someone has whacked me in the stomach with a sledgehammer. This is better for both of us, though, isn’t it? Nothing can come out of this anyway, and Mac is going to be just fine. She isn’t going to lose her job over me. So why do I feel like someone just punched me in the gut? What the hell is wrong with me?

❤️Mac❤️

I haven’t lied to him. Technically. Of course, I know how Ryan will interpret my answer, but that isn’t my problem. I’ve told him the truth. I’m not losing sight of things because I know exactly where I stand with him, and I know how he feels about me. I can see everything with crystal clarity. My answer is probably a relief to him, and yet the expression on Ryan’s face momentarily confuses me. He looks devastated.

Fortunately, I don't have time to dwell on it because Jazz walks into the room right then. I want to run to her, fling my arms around her in gratitude for interrupting this difficult conversation, but something about my best friend’s expression stops me in my tracks. She’s biting her lip, and she looks ill at ease.

"I have to tell you something," Jazz says, her voice coming out in a rush.

The last time Jazz said something like that, she had been carrying the Women's Daily News in her handbag. Surely my name hasn’t hit the headlines again? My pulse starts to race.

"Danny's here," Jazz says.

"Danny," I repeat the name. "As in...?"

"As in her dick of an ex-boyfriend? As in Junction Hospital Danny?" Ryan grinds out.

"Yes," Jazz nods. "Danny Westlaker is here, and he just walked into Blainesworth's office."

Ep. 11

❤️Mac❤️

I know I need to move. Our friends will be here any tick of the clock, and the cast of Hart's Valley will get one hell of a shock if they walk in and see me stuck to my co-star like a limpet. Then, once the shock wears off, they will call me an idiot. And who could argue with them? I am an idiot. I seem determined to make the same mistake twice in a row.

Ryan's face is buried in my neck, and my arms and legs are still wrapped around him. The bench is digging into my back, but I don't want to move. I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be, but that's too bad for me now, isn't it? Our quick but passionate union was a one-time-only deal.

My toes might still be tingling from the most earth-shattering sex of my life, and I might feel more connected to Ryan than I have to any other human being before, but it's over now. It doesn't matter how much I want to do it all over again. It doesn't matter how much I don't want to let him go. If I don't let him go, then he will let me go. He will break my heart—a heart that is balanced precariously on the verge of loving him.

Feeling me trying to pull away, Ryan finally untangles our bodies and steps away from me. For a second, I think he looks just as reluctant to break our connection as I feel - but I decide it's my imagination, and even if it's not, it's not something I should dwell on. I have to hold strong. This can't happen again.

I pick up my underwear and slide them back on as I glance at the clock. It's ten thirty-two.

"They're late," Ryan says to me.

"Yep," I agree, trying but failing to keep my eyes off his body as we both dress.

I almost cry with disappointment as he puts his shirt back on and covers that incredible chest of his. I feel desire tugging at me as my eyes caress his perfect male body. Crap. Can't I at least have some kind of grace period from my Ryan-induced lust now that we've just had sex in my kitchen? It seems not. Two orgasms have apparently not been anywhere near enough to satisfy the craving I have for my co-star.

I startle when Ryan comes to stand behind me so he can zip me back up. I shiver as his hand brushes against the sensitive skin on my back. When the zip reaches the top of the dress, he presses a soft kiss to the nape of my neck. The slight contact sizzles, and desire beats out a vicious rhythm inside me. I moan softly, and he slowly turns me around in his arms. My breath lodges in my throat as I take in the scorching heat in his gaze.

"We messed up, Mac. I think I want you even more now than I did before."

With that, he dips his head and claims my mouth with his. My body melts against his immediately, as if it has a mind of its own. His mouth is hot and insistent as he kisses me, as if he's trying to drive all ideas of earlier-on being a once-off from my mind. The feel of his arousal pressing against me makes it perfectly clear that he wants me just as much as before. Dear God.

✯Ryan✯

This is crazy. I've just had her, but one taste of her sweet lips and I'm burning up with the need to be with her all over again. I should never have agreed to her once-off idea. Surely she can see now that that decision was a mistake. There's no way we can shoot the scenes we need for Hart's Valley and keep this thing in check.

She's driving me out of my mind. I glimpsed something spectacular in her arms before, and I'm desperate to repeat the experience. Our one time was like the smallest sip of water to a man who's parched from being in the desert for too long. I tilt her head back so I can deepen our kiss, and her little moan shoots heat straight to my groin. Far out, I'm too damn hard.

I need an ice-cold shower. I need to cool down before our friends walk in on one hell of a show. I muster the last remaining shreds of my control and tear my mouth away from hers.

❤️Mac❤️

I can't stop the little noise of protest from escaping as Ryan pulls away from me, his hand sweeping through my hair as his eyes cling to mine.

"This isn't even close to being done," he tells me.

"It has to be. It can't happen again," I tell him.

I know my voice sounds weak. My words lack conviction.

"Mac, if we take this thing on set..."

I desperately hoped that surrendering to the desires which fuelled us both would help relieve some of this tension between us and reduce the impact of having to kiss him on set. But I know now that was deluded. I was too caught up in my need to be with him to see that sleeping together once would only make things worse.

The tension between us has been building for a very long time. We've kept the beast caged for the past year, but giving in has opened the door, and now the beast is out. We can never hope to capture it and contain it again. Every searing touch, every hot and fiery kiss we've shared is burnt into my memory. He's left his imprint on me. My body knows the pleasure his can bring me. I won't be able to stop myself from responding to him, on set or off, ever again.

It's an impossible situation. I don't want to put my heart in the firing line again, but I don't know how to deal with this thing between us any longer. I thank my lucky stars when I hear someone knocking on the door. The reprieve from my turmoil, however brief, is extremely welcome. I turn to answer the door, but Ryan grabs my arm before I can walk away.

"I'll get the door," he tells me.

"There's no need. I can get it."

"If you answer the door right now, everyone will know what we've been doing."

I run a hand through my hair, feeling it tangle in my fingers. I've been so caught up in my thoughts that I've forgotten I probably look as if I've just had my wicked way with my co-star. I need a mirror.

"Okay," I agree. "Thanks."

Ryan nods before leaning in and giving me another quick kiss. "I'm not done talking about this."

I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me before leaning against it. It would take very little for Ryan to persuade me to sleep with him again. I want to. Okay, that's the understatement of the century. If I close my eyes, it's too easy to imagine myself back in his arms, his mouth on mine, our bodies moving together. The visual is enough to make my breathing ragged and my body grow ready for his all over again.

I take a deep breath before crossing to the mirror. My eyes are glazed over. My cheeks feel hot and are quite obviously flushed. My lips look swollen from his kisses. What I feel—the need that grips me whenever Ryan is near—is as plain as the nose on my face. Will my co-stars see it? Will our executive producer? How can they not see it when I kiss him on set this week?

✯Ryan✯

I walk as slowly as I can towards Mac's front door, willing my body to chill out and settle down. By the time I open the door, my desire isn't obvious. Even if it is, however, the person waiting at the door probably doesn't notice, I acknowledge. Jazz stands there in the hallway, fidgeting, and when she realizes I'm the one letting her into the apartment, her back goes rigid and she scowls at me. What the hell?

"Where's Mac?" Jazz asks as she walks in.

"It's great to see you too, Jazz," I reply, frowning at the dark expression on Jazz's face. She's usually one of the most genuinely happy people I know. She stops to glare at me briefly before walking into the lounge room and taking a seat on the sofa.

"Where's everyone else?" I ask her.

"They're supposed to be getting here at eleven. I sent you a message asking you to do the same. Didn't you get it?"

The message is likely sitting unopened on my phone. I haven't been aware of anything other than Mac for the past half hour.

"What are you doing here?" she asks me.

"I arranged this barbecue, remember? Why did you change the time? What's wrong?"

She sits there watching me carefully for a moment. "I came here to ask Mac something, but since you're here, I'm worried I already know the answer. Ryan, please tell me there's nothing going on between you and Mac."

I blink, and my mouth falls open. It's the last thing I expected her to say. I'm normally quick on my feet mentally, but for the life of me, I can't work out how I should answer her.

"God, it's true, isn't it? How could you be so stupid? How could both of you be so stupid? At first, I thought there was nothing to it, but then I started thinking about how one of you has been absent at every get-together we've had. I should have seen this earlier."

"What's going on?" Mac asks from behind me. "Where is everyone?"

Jazz sighs heavily. "I told them to get here at eleven. I wanted to get here first and warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"About this."

❤️Mac❤️

I hold perfectly still as I watch Jazz pull her handbag onto her lap, unzip it, and then extract the Sunday edition of the Women's Daily News. I feel something cold and miserable slide through me as I take in the photo on the cover, and the caption that goes with it. It was taken on Friday night, just after I left the restaurant with Ryan, obviously by a passer-by who thinks it would be fun to destroy my life and make a quick buck from it.

It is the second time that I’ve made the front cover of the Women's Daily News. This time, however, is definitely much worse than the last. The picture shows Ryan's arm around my waist, holding me close, as he whispers something in my ear. And it is more than obvious to me just how affected I am by his proximity.

Frequent upgrades made to camera phones mean that the desire I feel towards my co-star has been captured with perfect clarity. I recognize the signs of my arousal because I've just seen them a minute ago in the bathroom mirror. I might be able to blame the glazed eyes and flushed cheeks on the alcohol I consumed that night, to anyone who might listen, but I know better.

It is the caption at the top, in big yellow writing, however, that has me wanting to climb under a rock and firebomb the Women's Daily News headquarters simultaneously.

It reads; "Summer Heat – Is Mackenzie Lauren falling for her leading man? Again?"

I can’t bear to look at Ryan. I don’t want to know what he thinks. Even if he shrugs it off, or plays it down – it doesn’t change the fact that the answer to the question is a big, fat yes! And to have that exposed so publicly is just mortifying. I rub at the sudden dull throb in my temples.

Of course, Ryan's feelings aren't in question. Because they aren't there. He desires me. He likes me as a friend, but there is nothing special about the way he feels about me. And to think he'd been worried about how the headline might read. If I hadn't been off-my-face-drunk at the time, I would have told him that he had nothing to be afraid of – nothing to lose. Meanwhile, I have everything to lose. Everything.

The worst part of all of this is that I’ve tried so hard not to repeat the mistake I made last time.

"The article is much worse," Jazz tells me quietly.

"Then I don't want to read it," I say to her.

When the story broke about me and Danny, I tortured myself by reading every insult and speculation that the magazine threw out about me. I won’t do that this time. I can easily guess what aspersions they are casting about my character now, and I don’t need to hear it.

"Maybe you should," Jazz says. "Blainesworth might."

I feel myself pale at the mention of our executive producer. I know it's a possibility, but I have to hope that he will pass it off as rubbish. Considering my history, and the way he feels about co-stars dating, however, I could be headed straight for his office first thing tomorrow morning.

"He won't pay attention to anything that trivial," Ryan interjects. "He has better things to do than read that crap. And if he says anything, I'll tell him the truth. Mac was drunk. You asked me to take her home. I did. Then I returned to my date."

✯Ryan✯

I'm trying to play it cool, but inside I'm giving myself a good arse-kicking. I've been a jerk. Mac's reaction to our executive producer's name, and the magazine cover, is really driving that truth home. I feel so helpless as I stand there and watch the blood drain out of her face.

Ever since I kissed Mac, I've been asking her to give in to this thing between us with little to no regard for what it would all mean for her. I haven't been thinking with the head on my shoulders. I've been a man consumed with a basic drive, and I've hardly spared a thought for her, or the situation it would put her in. Guilt is clawing its way through me.

She's told me straight up that one time is all she wants – that she doesn't want to go down the same path that she had with Danny, but I haven't listened. I've tried to seduce her into changing her mind.

The headline suggests that she is falling for me. With my strong desire to keep things casual, and the line of work we're in, it could lead to some very messy problems if she is. I'm again reminded of the conversation we had on Friday night, as I tucked her into bed. She essentially told me she has feelings for me—feelings that I've ignored today because I wanted to be with her so badly that I couldn’t think through the thick fog of lust between my ears.

If I have a lick of decency in me, I should stop this, just like she's asked.

"Are you telling me there's nothing going on between the two of you?" Jazz asks.

I look at Mac, but she is deliberately avoiding meeting my gaze.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," I tell her.

Mac's eyes snap up to meet mine. She's made her decision, and now I'm going to respect that. Even if I want her more than my next breath—even if I felt my whole world tilt off its axis while I was inside of her, this has to be her choice. If we sleep together again, it will be because she wants to—because she feels comfortable to, and because she's decided she can handle something casual. It won't be because I can't keep my hands off her long enough for her to think about what we're doing.

A knock on the door sounds. Mac hurries off to let in whoever is at the door.

"I hope you're telling me the truth," Jazz says to me. "Because you know she wouldn't survive another public heart-break."

❤️Mac❤️

I feel Brad's arm sliding around my shoulders as he sits down beside me on the picnic bench at Fawkner Park. It is the perfect day for a barbecue, but my mood seems more suited to grey skies and rain, rather than the cloudless blue above.

I sense Brad studying me for a moment before he sighs heavily. "You're letting the article get to you, aren't you?" he asks me.

"I'm trying not to," I admit.

"You need to take a cup of concrete, Maccas."

"Pardon?" I ask, confused.

"Toughen up. Harden up. Shit like this happens all the time. You can't take it personally. You can't let it get you down."

This isn't the first time that the magazine has published something to put me down in the public eye. It feels like they have it in for me. I remember my first interview in Melbourne, after I was given a small guest spot on Neighbours.

They basically called me a dumb hick because I made a stupid comment about shovelling cow patties on the farm. It shook my confidence terribly, and is part of the reason I haven't felt entirely comfortable in my interviews ever since. I don't enjoy being the girl everyone laughs at.

"It feels personal," I tell him.

I let my eyes wander over to where Ryan and Matt stand shoulder to shoulder at the barbecue, cooking the meat. Jazz and Vanessa are at the Coles down the street, buying tomato sauce. Out of all the things to forget for a barbecue... But my thoughts haven't exactly been on food these past few days.

"I know it does, but we've all experienced it before. Do you remember when TV's Hot News claimed Vanessa was having a relationship with her female co-star? Or when I had that HIV scare?"

I nod. I remember that.

"My girlfriend dumped me," he continues. "It took ages for it to blow over. And what about when Matt's high school friend gave an interview about Matt being a stoner? Or Jazz got nabbed for drink-driving, and she lost her license for a year? The only thing you need to worry about is whether it is true or not, and if it is, what you're going to do about it."

He's indirectly asking me if there's anything to the rumours, but I choose to ignore the question. It's better he doesn't know the answer.

"I love acting," I tell him instead. "But I hate this. I hate being scrutinized and criticised. They don't know me."

"Exactly. They don't know anything about you. So why would you let anything they say worry you?"

"Because people will see it and think that it's the truth," I reply.

Brad looks at me. "So what?"

"What do you mean, so what? Everyone is going to think I'm in love with my co-star."

"So, let us suspend reality for a moment and pretend that everyone believes what they read in those mags – and everyone in Australia now believes you're in love with Ryan. So what? You know what I'm trying to say?"

"I hear you," I tell him.

I know he's right about the fact that I need to toughen up a bit. It shouldn't really matter what people think of me if I can do my job and do it well—if I believe I am a good person, and endeavour to live up to my own code of ethics. And I'm not the only target here, as Brad has pointed out. No-one has ever been quite so blunt with me before, and perhaps I need this wake-up call.

The misery I am feeling now has more to do with the fact that the article has shone a light onto something I have desperately wanted to keep in the dark. The way I feel is my business; my personal, private business. I feel as if someone has read my diary and printed it for everyone to read. The rest of the country has been given insight into the feelings I have for my co-star before I've had time to process them...and get over them.

I'm hoping that Ryan has already forgotten the headline on the cover. Ever since he's seen the article, he's been giving me the impression that he's backing right off. Maybe I should see that as something positive. However, I can't help feeling as though he's backing off because of what the magazine has suggested, rather than because I told him earlier that one time was all I wanted.

I know Ryan's history, and so maybe I should have expected as much, but the thought that my feelings make him want to run for the hills actually makes my heart hurt and my insides feel as if they're twisting inside-out. I blink several times as I feel the prick of tears behind my eyes.

"Girls are back. Lighten up. They found tomato sauce," Brad says to me, before he nudges my shoulder playfully. "Come on, what could be better than this? The sun is shining, it's our day off, and we're surrounded by friends. This is the life, Maccas. Live it. Enjoy it."

I nod and try to smile as I watch Vanessa and Jazz stroll through the park towards us. At the same time, Ryan and Matt finish up at the barbecue and make their way back to the table. Jazz and Vanessa take a seat opposite Brad and me, and Matt joins them, leaving me shuffling over a little so that Ryan can sit down next to me.

As he sits down his knee touches mine and I jump as if I've been electrocuted. The man has just been inside me for Pete's sake, but it feels as if I've just been zapped. My body is humming – my libido kick-started. I feel my nipples pebble and the too familiar ache ignite low in my belly. My whole body feels as if it's flushing. I suddenly wish I had a fan. My cheeks are hot enough to melt ice-blocks.

I pile my plate with food and when my arm brushes along Ryan's, I try and fail not to remember how strong his arms had been as he held me up and thrust into me. I can't eat from excitement. With Ryan sitting next to me, my body is too busy reliving every moment of our one time to think about food.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ryan asks me softly, as I push my coleslaw around on my plate.

Does he care? Of course, I tell myself. Just because he doesn't feel the same way that I do, doesn't mean we aren't friends. At least his question wasn’t, 'hey, are you falling for me?'

"I'm fine," I tell him.

What did Brad say? This is the life. Live it. Enjoy it. That's what I want to do, more than anything. But all I can think about right now is the fact that in less than a week I will be kissing the man next to me on set. I don't know how I am going to get through that scene. He might have decided to back off, but it doesn't change the fact that I am falling for him. And I can't stop myself from responding to him.

With the story that has broken about me today, I have no idea if our executive producer will be gunning for me or not, but the timing is bad. Anyone who is looking for something between Ryan and me will be able to see it. I won't be able to hide how he affects me in front of the cameras. Even if I manage to pull it off this time, it won't be the only scene of this nature that we'll have together this season.

I listen as Matt cracks a joke. Everyone laughs, and I force myself to join in. These are my friends. Hart's Valley is my job. This is my life. Now I just have to get past the dreaded sinking feeling in my gut that I am about to lose it all. This is the life. Live it. Enjoy it.

Ep. 10

❤️Mac❤️

I close my eyes just as Ryan’s lips touch mine. His kiss starts soft and gentle, but utterly, utterly perfect. Did I expect anything less from Australia’s Romeo? Absolutely not. My toes curl, my heart lurches. Lust rips through my centre like a rocket ship taking off; the heat it generates makes me feel as if I'm about to melt into the floor.

I remove my hands from the front of his shirt so I can wind my arms around his neck and bring him closer to me. And that’s when everything changes. His kiss goes from soft and teasing to hungry and possessive in the blink of an eye. My lips part underneath his, allowing his tongue to slide along the length of mine, stoking the fire already burning low in my belly.

His hands wrap around my waist, pulling me snugly against him and I can feel the long, hard proof of his desire. Satisfaction sweeps through me as he moans and deepens the kiss even further, his mouth and tongue doing the most sinfully wicked things to me. My knees wobble underneath me—hardly surprising since my entire body feels as if it’s made of jelly.

He tears his mouth away from mine to take a breath. “I knew it would be like this.” He backs me up against my kitchen bench, then his mouth is on mine again.

I don't need to ask him what he means. It's as if he can't get enough of me. And I understand that feeling all too well. I can't get enough of him, either. I've waited a long time for this moment. But this is about more than the poster I had on my wall at fifteen. This is about more than the crush I had on Ryan before I knew him.

The man in my arms is someone I respect and admire greatly. A friend. Someone I care about deeply. Too deeply. I already know I'm dangerously close to falling in love with him. I’ve tried so hard not to make the same mistake with Ryan that I made with Danny, but it’s hopeless. I can't stop this. My head snaps back with the force of my thoughts, exposing my neck. I shiver and cling tighter to him as his lips graze the sensitive skin just under my ear before trailing them down my neck.

✯Ryan✯

Things are far too heated. I'm already too worked up. My whole body feels as if it's on the verge of exploding. The need to merge my body with hers is so strong I don’t know how to resist it. I've held myself back from her for so long, denying what I want—what I need, and now that she is finally in my arms, I have no control left to stop what we're doing.

I feel her tremble. I taste the perfume on her neck. It's all one giant turn-on. Every resolve, every rule – every determined thought I had about resisting her is crumbling rapidly. I’ve done everything I can to avoid giving in, but the truth is that I just can’t do it any longer. I can't kiss her and touch her and not need more. If she doesn't want this then she has to be the one to stop us.

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are filled with lust and more than a hint of vulnerability as I pull away to look at her.

“Mac, I want you too much. I can't stop this.”

“What is this, Ryan?” she asks me huskily, uncertainty warring with the desire in her gaze. “What are we doing?”

I swallow. She has every right to ask; every right to know, but I don't know what to tell her. I have no idea what we're doing—what I'm doing.

“I don’t know, Mac. I know that I should, but I don’t. I just know that I can't seem to be around you anymore without wanting to be with you. I've tried staying away from you, but I miss you so damn much. We have these scenes coming up and…I don't know what I'm doing or what this is. I don’t know how I handle this thing between us.”

“So, is this a once-off?” she asks. “A way to let off steam before our upcoming scene this week?”

She makes it sound as if I want to use her, but I don't. That's not what this is. Okay, I don't know what this is, but it's definitely not that. She's not a quick screw. Mac obviously needs me to put a name to what we're doing, and I can appreciate that. After what happened between her and Westlaker, it's probably the sensible thing to do.

“I’m trying to stop you from making the same mistakes with Brad that you made with Danny.”

“That’s very noble of you, but Brad’s not the one I’m likely to make the same mistake with.”

Guilt claws at me. I know that sleeping with her won’t have a good outcome, but I’m just not strong enough to stop this anymore. I've tried. Over and over again, I've tried. We both have. I’ve reached my limit.

“This isn’t a once-off,” I tell her. “I don’t want it to be a once-off. If you want to call it something, then call it a casual relationship.”

I wish I could tell Mac that this is more – that this thing between us is special, but I won't. I want her. I care about her very much, but whatever we start will be casual, just like every other relationship I’ve had.

"I shouldn't feel the way that I feel about you."

I try to push the gnawing doubts aside as I remember Mac’s drunken confession. I'm being honest with her right now. If she agrees to go along with this, then that's her decision. She won’t agree to something if she doesn’t think she can handle it, will she?

“A casual relationship?” she repeats.

“Yes,” I tell her.

❤️Mac❤️

Wow. I know that Australia’s Romeo never sticks around for more than three months. He doesn't fall in love. He isn't interested in forever. I realize all that. But to hear him offer me his infamous Three-Month-Special has disappointment crashing through me so fast it leaves me reeling, and bitterness and sadness swirl around inside me. 

At least he isn't lying to me about it, though. I suppose that's something. Danny let me believe I was special to him in some way – that there was promise to our future. Ryan isn't trying to pull a fast one on me. He isn't telling me what I want to hear so I'll go to bed with him. His honesty doesn't make me feel any better, but it does make it impossible for me to lie to myself about what's happening here.

“I mean, if you want that too,” he says to me.

I don't want that. I should walk away from this. But how much longer can I fight this for if I do? One week? Maybe two if I’m lucky? It's been an uphill battle resisting him from the start.

 Perhaps sleeping together has been on the cards since day one because I am both weak and foolish when it comes to my leading men, but I can't do a fling with him. If I agree, I would be looking around the corner all the time waiting for the moment he decides he's had enough; that he's walking away – that he's bored with me. It would tear me apart.

A once-off is something I would very rarely consider. Even a moment ago it seemed like the worst idea, but that was before he suggested a fling. I already know I'm going to sleep with him. That seems inevitable right now. However, if I have a choice between a once-off and a fling, I have to choose the option less likely to break my heart, don't I?

“No,” I say to him. “We do this once, and once only.”

Having sex with him once won't shatter me the way a casual relationship will when he ends it. Well, that's what I'm choosing to believe right now. It's my only hope of walking away from this thing between us without my heart being obliterated.

“Once?” he questions me.

“Once,” I confirm. “You can’t fight this anymore and neither can I. But I don’t want to go down the same path that I went down with Danny. So…I think we should just do it. Then maybe we can move past this.”

“Move past this?” he repeats.

“Go back to being friends and co-workers. Maybe it will be easier to do that after we…you know.”

✯Ryan✯

She’s crazy. I’m sure of it. There is no way that having sex once is going to be good for us. What will a once-off do to our friendship and our working relationship? But I can see the determination in her eyes—the resolve not to go down the same path she went down with Westlaker. How can I fault her for that? I can’t.

“I don’t think once is going to be enough,” I say.

“It has to be enough,” she says firmly.

There is a hint of desperation in her voice that I don’t like – as if sleeping together is some kind of Hail Mary pass to something I don’t completely understand. My gaze slides to the clock on her kitchen wall. Seventeen past ten. Maybe she needs more time to think this through. Hell, we could both benefit from a moment here.

“We should do this later.”

“No. Now,” Mac says and drags me down for another kiss.

“We only have thirteen minutes,” I remind her between kisses.

“Then we’ll have to be quick. I thought you said you couldn’t stop.”

I'm well aware I said that, but doing this right here and right now is going to shoot everything to hell.

“Mac…”

She starts kissing me like her life depends on it. Uncertainty makes me slow to respond, but only for a second. I can’t hold back against the onslaught of desire she evokes in me.

Mac’s hands slide down my body before slipping them under my t-shirt to touch my muscles. I harden and tense underneath her fingertips, as I pull her closer, moaning into her mouth.

“Take it off,” she demands between kisses, her hands going to the hem of my T-shirt.

I know this is wrong. So wrong. She's going to regret this. We both will. But hearing the raw need in her voice shatters the remaining vestiges of my restraint. I whip the shirt over my head, nearly losing my mind when her hands find my chest like heat-seeking missiles, roaming over my body as if she can’t get enough of me.

The wild abandon with which she's attacking me releases something hot and primal and fierce inside me. I can have her. Finally, I can have her. I don’t have to hold back a moment longer. I cup her breasts, feeling the outline of her hardened peaks beneath my thumbs. She pushes her breasts into the palms of my hands and I feel even more of my blood rush south.

I find the zip at the back of her dress, dragging it down as far as I can. She shrugs the straps off her shoulder so that her dress falls to her waist. Desire hammers me as I take in the lacy, light blue bra with a dark blue bow that she's wearing. I know with utmost certainty that her underwear will match. My heart is racing so fast, and my blood feels thick and hot as I undo the catch on her bra. She lets it slip off her arms.

“Ryan,” she cries as I take one of her ripe peaks into my mouth.

I circle it with my tongue and tug on it gently. She moves her hips against my throbbing erection, just about killing me with the sensations that it causes. My hands skim down her sides and disappear under her dress. I groan when she spreads her legs for me; a shameless suggestion that I should touch her. I've never seen her like this before – so uninhibited and free. She wants me and she isn't afraid to show it. I've never been more turned on in my life.

I run a finger over her through her underwear, my body literally jerking with the need to be inside her when I realize just how ready she already is for me. I run my finger over her again, and she moans again more loudly and spreads her legs even further apart.

“Yes,” she says to me as I slide her underwear over her hips and they drop to the floor.

She closes her eyes as I touch her where she wants me to. Her hands grip the bench behind her as I slip my thumb back and forth over the bundle of nerve endings between her legs; all the while my mouth and tongue continue to lavish attention on her breasts. I feel the tension mounting inside her as I continue caressing her; and when she shouts out in pleasure, I look up. Her eyes are closed. Her head is thrown back. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and her whole body is shaking. With her breasts exposed and her dress still around her hips, she is a vision. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I’ve never wanted anyone so much. I am so achingly hard I can’t wait another minute to be with her.

“You’re so beautiful, Mac.”

When Mac opens her eyes, I haul her to me and kiss her hungrily.

“Condoms,” she says against my mouth, her hands going to the fastening of my shorts. “In the bedroom.”

I never stop kissing her as I take my wallet out of my pocket and retrieve a condom. I slap it on the bench behind her.

“Here?” she whispers.

“And now,” I tell her.

She quickly unfastens my shorts and pushes them off my hips before she frees me from the boxers I am wearing with hands that are less than steady. I feel a momentary flash of pride when she ogles my length. Her eyes are more black than blue as she strokes her hand along the length of me before gliding her thumb over my tip.

My hips jolt forward as I moan her name. She reaches behind her with her spare hand and grabs the condom I placed there a moment ago. She tears her mouth away from mine so she can concentrate on what she's doing. After ripping the foil packet, she rolls the condom down my length, my hand on top of hers, guiding her the whole way.

“I can't wait any longer, Mac," I tell her as my hands slide under her dress again and I lift her up by her hips. I position myself to take her.

“Please,” is all she says to me as she grabs my shoulders.

It's all I need to hear. My heart is like a jackhammer as I thrust forward, joining us together. I hear her cry out at the intrusion. I feel her fingernails dig into the skin of my shoulders, but I barely register either incident. All I can focus on is how good it feels to be surrounded by her tight wet heat. I've never felt more complete, more whole, more alive than I do right now.

Her eyes, which closed as I filled her, now open and latch onto mine, creating a connection that feels far too intense. God, we shouldn’t be doing this. We’re friends. We care about each other. We work together. This isn’t some random hook-up or some girl who wants a shot at me because of who I am. This is Mac.

“Ryan,” she whispers softly, clutching at my shoulders.

But it’s too late to stop this now, and I don’t want to stop this – I can’t stop this. I’ve never felt this good before.

She does her best to rock her hips, obviously ready for me to start moving. I lean in and kiss her; sweeping my tongue along hers as I start to move, which only serves to intensify everything I’m already feeling. Every stroke of my body into hers, every small whimper and moan she makes into my mouth, every pleasurable sensation that steals through me tells me that this is something bigger than I’ve ever experienced before.

And when I feel her body find its release around mine, and my name tumbles from her lips, my whole world shakes as I go over the edge with her. 

Ep. 9

❤️Mac❤️

"Don't say that," I beg. "You can't say that."

He can’t do this to me, not now. Now when I’m drunk and consequently defenceless when it comes to him. I have fought this thing between us for too long. If he touches me, I will melt in his arms, and how can I do that when he has another woman waiting for him?

I promised myself I will never let my feelings for my co-star cloud my judgement or screw up my job again.

I press my damp forehead against the cool glass of the car window. Even in my drunken state I can’t lie to myself. I wish my feelings for Ryan were just infatuation, lust and the remnants of a teenage crush, but I know they aren’t. In the darkness and silence, with his presence next to mine, I know I’m dangerously close to falling in love with Ryan Moore.

I need him to be the strong one here – to keep resisting our attraction. Is it fair to him? No. Is it right? No. Not at all. But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s what I need.

"You can't give up," I say. "You have to keep fighting."

"I've tried, Mac. I really have." Ryan’s tone is frustrated, almost angry.

"You have to try harder."

He laughs a self-deprecating laugh. "You have no idea how hard I have been trying. This keeping our distance thing…it's not working for me. And I don't think it's working for you either. Everyone is worried about you."

"I'm fine."

I press my temples, feeling a throbbing pain. I'm far from okay, yet I can't bear the thought of others worrying about me, especially when my own worries consume me. Lately, a profound sense of loneliness grips me, and the intensity of my feelings for my co-star only heightens my anxiety, often robbing me of sleep. While I've always been in the spotlight, it now feels as though I'm a mere spectator to the unwinding drama of my life. The trouble is, I have no idea how to stop or rewrite it. This thing between us feels out of control.

"Really?" Ryan asks softly. "Getting drunk and looking for sex? That's you being fine, is it?"

"I over-did it tonight," I admit. "It was stupid, but I'm hardly the first person to let loose a bit too much."

"Mac."

"You have your distraction, Ryan. Let me have mine."

"That's the problem, Mac. I don't want you to have a distraction."

I swallow as the anger wells up inside me. Does he not know how hard tonight has been for me? How it felt to sit across him, pretending that jealousy wasn’t slicing me to a million pieces?  My vision begins to spin and I feel violently ill– either from the anger or alcohol, I don’t know.

"That's not fair," I say. "You know that's not fair."

“Of course I know that. None of this is fair. It isn’t fair that we’ve had to cut our friendship at the knees because of this attraction between us. It isn’t fair that I can’t touch you without…” He drags his fingers through his hair, pulling slightly at the roots as his face tightens. “I’ve tried to get on top of what I feel for you. Nothing has worked. Nothing! The feelings aren’t going away.”

"You have Cindy," I point out. "She's nice; I like her. You're going to break her heart."

"She knows this is nothing serious."

"I'm sure that will be a comforting thought when she's crying her heart out over you in the middle of the night."

✯Ryan✯

I stare out the windshield, absorbing the weight of Mac’s words. The women I date know what the deal is. From the start, I ensure they understand. I don’t lead them on or promise them the world. They're aware from the outset that I don’t want anything serious.

I despise expectations and the disappointment that inevitably follows. To avoid the feeling of letting someone down, of not measuring up, has always been my strategy. By setting boundaries from the beginning, I hoped to sidestep future heartbreaks. Yet, hearing Mac's words—that I might break Cindy’s heart—makes me feel…well, like a complete arsehole.

Cindy was intended to be a mere distraction. I consciously used her as a shield, but now, I find myself completely undistracted anyway and filled with guilt. I need to break things off with her. Mac's right. Cindy is nice, and even if she initially agreed to my terms, it doesn’t mean she won’t eventually desire more.

Just as Mac would.

If something were to develop with Mac, she'd undoubtedly want more than a casual fling. Given how much I care about her, I'd strive to provide it. But if I were to come up short, Mac would be hurt or pissed, whichever hits first. I'd be gutted, feeling like trash because I let her down, doing to her what Westlaker did. I promised myself I'd be different.

So, am I ready to give up this internal struggle? No. I have to keep resisting. For Mac’s sake. I won't treat her the way Westlaker did, using her until the novelty wears off.

"I'll…try and keep fighting it," I say, rubbing my eyes wearily. "But that still leaves us with a problem."

I still can’t touch her and keep my feelings for her in check. But I never get to explain this to her, however, because she suddenly throws open the car door and heaves. I’m out of the car and by her side in a flash.

"It's alright," I tell her, holding her hair and rubbing her back as she throws up on the sidewalk.

❤️Mac❤️

I am grateful that I narrowly avoid stepping into pool of my own vomit as Ryan guides me away from his car. Throwing up in front of the hottest guy on Aussie TV is pretty damn humiliating, but stepping in my own puke  – that would have been the cherry on top of a pretty terrible night.

When we get to the stairs, Ryan scoops me up so that he is holding me in his arms. I feel the heat of his body against mine, a solid presence to my fretful mind. I told him not to come up, but I hardly need to worry about him making a move on me now. I probably smell gross and look worse.

"Put me down now," I mumble, once we reach my door.

Ryan sets me down, but his arm doesn’t leave my side when it becomes obvious that I can’t stand by myself. He takes the purse from me, and with his spare hand fishes about for my keys. Instead of finding my keys, he finds the strip of condoms I threw in earlier.

"Geez, Mac. Six? Really?" Ryan’s voice is incredulous.

"It's been a while," I say. "I thought I might need them."

Ryan says nothing, and goes back to rummaging through my purse. Even though I’m drunk I can detect the slight tension in his muscles, the darkening of his eyes that he tries not to show. I want to explain myself to him, but my head is pounding. As soon as Ryan gets us inside my apartment, he tosses my purse onto the couch, and starts walking me towards the bedroom.

"Uh-uh," I say. "I want to brush my teeth."

"You can't even stand."

"I'm not going to bed without brushing my teeth."

He walks me in to the bathroom where he sits me on the edge of the bathtub and puts toothpaste on my toothbrush.

✯Ryan✯

"Water. Can you get some water please?" Mac says.

I go into the kitchen to look for a water glass. Once I find a cup I fill it before walking back into the bathroom with it. Mac is perched on the edge of the bathtub, looking so dejected that I feel something wrap around my heart and squeeze. want to put my arms around her right away.

Instead, I slide the cup of water under her lips and tilt her head back to make her drink. When she’s done, I guide her into her bedroom, my arms under hers, and sit her on the bed.

A wave of fatigue crashes through me. It has been a long day and I feel far too tempted to get into the bed, but as much as I want to sleep right now, I know it won’t stay that way for long. Mac sinks down into the covers and I place her feet across my lap to take off her shoes.

"I'm sorry," she says as I fiddle with the buckle on her heels. "About the vomiting, and the drunkenness. About asking you to drive me home when you're on a date."

"Don't worry about it,” I say. “What are friends for?"

"Are we friends?"

I stare at her. Mac’s eyes are closed, shutting me out of her head. At that time, when I suggested we should keep our distance, I believed it was for the best. Now looking at her crushed expression and dishevelled hair, I can’t help thinking I made a huge mistake. My desire for her has only grown in her absence. After what Jazz said tonight, I suspect Mac misses me just as much as I miss her.

Even if I have decided to continue to fight what I feel for her, I don’t want to stay away from her anymore. I don’t know how I can be around her and not act on the attraction, but I’m going to try. For both our sakes. Besides, if Mac is going to do stupid things like get so drunk she can’t walk by herself and go out looking for sex, she’ll need someone to look out for her. I need to be around to make sure she’s safe.

"Of course we're friends, Mac," I say firmly.

"Friends that don't see each other?"

"That's going to change," I promise.

Mac doesn’t say anything in response. Has she gone to sleep? I go back to trying to get her shoes off.

"I'm lonely," she says.

"You'll find a distraction," I say.

"I hated it…seeing you with Cindy."

My chest tightens immediately. Jazz was right. Mac is sad— sad and lonely. And by bringing someone with me tonight, I managed to make her feel ten times worse. Guilt clutches at me.

"I know I'm not supposed to care," Mac continues.

I want to comfort her, hold her. But that will lead to more – the type of more that may satisfy both of us in the short term, but nothing that will lead to any good for her in the long term. Anyway, Mac is vulnerable and probably not entirely with it at the moment. She will likely not even remember this conversation in the morning.

"Shh. Try and get some sleep," I say.

"I shouldn't want to be with you," Mac says. "I shouldn't feel the way that I feel about you."

At her words, my stomach does a somersault. What does she mean by that? I am debating the ethics of asking her exactly how she feels about me when I hear her soft snores. Ridiculously disappointed, I work one heel lose, then her other shoe, before I slide them out from underneath her feet and cover her with the sheet and blanket.

"Night, Mac," I say, unable to resist the impulse to sweep the hair off her forehead.

My gaze lingers for a moment on her mouth before I reluctantly turn and walk away.

❤️Mac❤️

Saturday is a complete write-off for me. I’m glad they don’t need me in the studio today because I don’t think I could have dragged myself out of bed even if my life depended on it. I am relieved to find that I am still dressed when I wake up. I assume Ryan helped me into my apartment and put me to bed, because I don’t remember much of what happened after we left the restaurant.

Late in the afternoon, Jazz calls me.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it to the club," I say.

"I never expected you to,” Jazz’s voice is worried. “You were so drunk you couldn't walk properly."

"I know."

"I've never seen you drink like that."

"And now I know why I usually don't do that," I say, rubbing my temples. I am not in the mood to speak to anyone right now, but I also know my friend has many questions for me. I try to change the topic. "So, how was the rest of the night? You guys went without me, right?"

"Yeah…we actually ended up at The Dolls House,” Jazz says, “because Vanessa wanted somewhere closer than The Spice Club, and we assumed you weren't going to make it. Anyway, the music was too loud and it was so packed we couldn't dance. You would have hated it. We didn't stay for long."

I suspect Jazz is playing down the evening to make me feel better, but I feel a rush of gratitude towards my best friend. The last thing I want to hear is that they all had a blast without me.

"Did Ryan make it there okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, though he and Cindy left a few minutes after he got here."

I nod. The idea of Ryan and Cindy going home together makes me want to throw up all over again.

"Speaking of Ryan," Jazz continues. "I was talking to him earlier today and he suggested we do a barbecue tomorrow. You up for it?"

"Oh…um…"

"He thought we could go to your place and then on to Fawkner Park, though it's supposed to be hot so we'll need to do it early on in the day."

"Ryan suggested you should come here for a barbecue?” I ask.

"If that's alright with you. He said he's been missing hanging out. Can you believe it?"

No, no I can’t believe it. Ryan has been all about avoiding me for the past few months, and now he decides he misses our get-togethers and wants to hang out?

"Mac?" Jazz asks.

"I'm here."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow is fine."

I have to talk to Ryan and find out exactly what is going on.

"Great," Jazz says.

I finish making the arrangements for tomorrow, say goodbye to Jazz, and then hang up. I haven’t even put the phone down when it rings again. Ryan’s number.

"Hey," Ryan says, when I answer.

"Hey," I say, feeling a wave of nostalgia at the sound of his voice.

I can’t remember the last time he actually called me. It feels far too good to hear his voice on the phone again.

"You're up," he says.

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Um, better than I was this morning."

"Good."

"Thanks for taking me home last night,” I say.

"You already thanked me for that," he says, "Do you remember?"

"Ah…no."

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

"Not very well."

"You don't remember what I said to you in the car last night?"

There is something in the tone of his voice that triggers the memories to come rushing back. I remember our walk from the restaurant. I remember his arousal and my own heated response to his proximity. I remember how we sat in his car talking, snatches of our conversation breaking through the fog in my brain.

"I remember," I breathe out. "You said you didn't want to fight this anymore."

"Yeah," Ryan says. "I did say that. And you told me I had to keep fighting it. So, I'm going to keep fighting it, Mac."

It’s ridiculous that I should feel so disappointed at his words. I should be relieved, shouldn’t I? I could never resist him if he decided to give in and pursue this thing between us. It’s good that we still have the brakes on this thing, isn’t it?

"But I don't want to keep my distance anymore," Ryan says. "I want us to go back to hanging out again. We're friends and I don't want to stay away from you anymore. I miss you Mac."

His voice is soft and gentle and his words wrap around me like a warm and comforting blanket. He misses me. Just like I miss him.

"I miss you too," I say quietly.

"I know," Ryan says. "And staying away from each other, I don't think it's helping."

I nod. Avoiding each other hasn’t changed how I feel about him. "I agree."

"So, have you spoken to Jazz yet?"

"She said that you wanted to do this barbecue thing tomorrow – that you wanted us all to hang out."

"Yeah. Though I do have an ulterior motive. I need to see you. I need to talk to you about something."

"What?"

"Our upcoming kiss."

I swallow. My heart begins to race.

"What about it?" I ask.

"I'm anticipating a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

There is a long pause before Ryan speaks. I hold my breath. "Every time I touch you…I react. I'm worried about what's going to happen when we're in front of the cameras."

"You want to give it a test-run?"

"You guessed it."

"Tomorrow? With everyone here?"

"I'll come over before everyone else arrives. What time is Jazz going to be there?"

"Ten-thirty."

"I'll be there at ten then."

"I…I don't think that's a good idea,” I say. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the thought.

"Maybe you're right, but having no idea how we're going to react to each other on set is dangerous. We have to make sure we're in control of this. We have to make sure we can stop when they say cut. And knowing that we'll have company in half an hour will hopefully stop things from going…too far.”

"You set up this whole barbecue tomorrow so you could kiss me?" I ask him.

"Actually, I thought spending Sunday with everyone would be fun. But yes, there's an opportunity here and I think we should use it."

"An opportunity?"

"You know I can't wait to kiss you, right?"

I can hear the sincerity in his voice, as well as the smile he’s likely wearing, and my pulse skitters and jumps. I stand up and walk towards the open window in my lounge room, hoping that the air outside can help clear my head.

"I have high expectations," I say, smiling now too.

"Aw, Mac, you're making me nervous now."

I laugh. "I'm making you nervous? Australia's Romeo nervous to kiss a girl? I don't think so."

"You're not just any girl, Mac."

"I'm not?"

"You're not," he declares.

His voice is dead serious and the earnestness of his words makes me blush. For a moment I feel as if I’m floating on a cloud. I’m terribly lightheaded. Then I remember something.

"And will Cindy be coming tomorrow?"

"It's over with Cindy," Ryan says.

It is like a huge weight has been lifted off me. It’s over between them. It shouldn't matter. But it does.

"Was she okay?" I ask.

"No, she was pretty crushed."

"I'm sorry," I say, not quite sure what else to say.

"Yeah, I was too. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ryan."

I’m grateful that I have a long list of things to do to get ready for the barbecue. Since Ryan’s phone call yesterday, I've been more than a little nervous, but with every passing hour my nerves grow exponentially. I’ve daydreamed about kissing Ryan Moore since I was fifteen. Without the distraction of cleaning I might just hyperventilate and pass out.

After cleaning, I shower and dress. I pick a blue and white sundress this time, which accentuates my shoulders and gives me a confidence I do not feel. I brush my teeth twice, gargle some mouthwash and by the time I’m done with my make-up, it’s already five to ten. Five minutes before he arrives. I use the time to pace back and forth. It's just a kiss! The voice in my head repeats shrilly as I pace back and forth in my apartment, unable to keep still.

At exactly ten o’clock, there is a knock on the door. I open the door, immediately catching a whiff of his clean-shaven, masculine scent. My eyes roam over his perfect chest, his broad shoulders, to his twinkling hazel eyes – before descending upon his mouth. That is when my stomach plunges all the way down to my toes.

"It's just a kiss."

Ryan smirks at me. "Well, it's all we have time for."

I blush, realizing I’ve spoken out loud. Stupid, stupid, stupid! All these nerves have obviously cut off the oxygen supply to my brain. I’m not sure I’m breathing at all right now.

"Can I come in?" Ryan asks.

I move aside hastily to let him through and he walks straight into my kitchen. I realize he is holding a shopping bag in his hands.

"Snags, beer and bread," Ryan says, removing the sausages and beer and putting them in the fridge.

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Everything is happening far, far too slowly.

"When are you going to kiss me?" I blurt out.

"We still have time if you want to wait a bit," Ryan says.

I shake my head. "I want to get it over and done with."

"Now that makes me feel good," he says.

"I mean, I'm nervous."

"So, relax," he says. "It'll just be like two friends kissing."

"If you really believed that you wouldn't be here right now."

"Okay, so it might be a little more than that. Do you want to do it now then?"

I nod. "Where should we…"

✯Ryan✯

I look around me. The kitchen is small. There is limited bench space. Perfect. No bed and no couch around us, nowhere where I can comfortably do more than kiss her.

"Here," I say.

"Here?"

"Yep. Here."

Of course this is more than two friends kissing. I am nervous as hell, and my palms are clammy-cold. In fact I can’t remember ever being this nervous about kissing a woman before.

Because Mac is different. She is special. I know that, even if I don’t understand why. I barely slept last night. I feel like a little boy, about to unwrap my Christmas presents.

I should have arrived a little later. Thirty minutes is still long enough for things to spiral out of control. But she is desperate to get it out of the way, and I am desperate to get my hands on her. Warning bells sound out from somewhere within me, the voice in my head saying You want this too damn much. I ignore them. I have to know if I can do this. I have to know if I can stop.

Ep. 8

❤️Mac❤️

I rummage through my wardrobe for the perfect outfit for this evening. I’m not sure what I’m looking for until my eyes rest upon the royal blue dress I bought with Jazz a few weeks ago. Its rich blue matches my eyes, and the silk fabric feels nice against my skin in the summer heat. The large dip between my breasts makes it more revealing than the outfits I usually wear, but I know I look good in it.

If Ryan's bringing a date tonight, I'll need that extra boost of confidence. Besides, I plan to go out afterwards. Hopefully, Jazz and Vanessa are in the mood for clubbing.

Ever since I heard about the kiss in next week’s script, there’s been a ticking time-bomb hanging over my head. Whenever I think about it, longing and need clutch at me. I can’t shake off the fantasies about what it will be like. I want that kiss too much. I want to kiss him too much. I’m starting to see I might need my own distraction, someone to take the edge off the desire I feel for my off-limits co-star. If Ryan can date and sleep his way through the whole of Melbourne, why can’t I do the same?

I mean, how long has it been since I’ve been with a man? The desire for physical intimacy is making me restless and edgy. And since sleeping with the person making me feel all these things is not an option, I’ll have to come up with another plan. Although Jazz has offered to help set me up with another friend, nothing has come of it yet. And I’ve been far too busy with work to devote time to finding Mr Right, or even Mr Right-Now.

I need to take matters into my own hands. A one-night stand is something everyone does at least once, isn’t it? It’s not my thing, but tonight I want to get laid. I open my bedside drawer and find the still unopened box of condoms. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry over the fact that they expire in less than a month. I toss them quickly into my handbag before heading out the door.

I arrive at the restaurant five minutes late. As if dragged by some magnetic force, my eyes are drawn automatically to where Ryan is sitting. He’s chatting with the blonde next to him, oblivious to my presence. I stand there for a moment in the doorway, drinking in the sight of his masculine perfection. On set, he fills out the suit he wears to perfection. Tonight he sits in a casual green t-shirt with white stripes, looking good enough to make my heart flutter.

My gaze shifts to the woman beside him. I knew seeing Ryan with a date would be challenging. Just hearing about his new relationship had been difficult enough. But witnessing them together? I hadn't truly grasped how painful it would be until this moment. My heart aches as I watch him smile at her.

As if sensing my gaze, Ryan turns to meet my eyes. Fearing his reaction to seeing me here tonight, I quickly avert my gaze and make my way through the bustling restaurant to the table where our group is seated. It's in a secluded corner, and Gino, the owner, always reserves it for us when we dine here.

“Maccas!” Brad exclaims as he stands and gives me a hug. “Far out! You look freaking amazing.”

“Thank you,” I say, smiling at him.

Jazz hugs me so tightly that I fear I might turn as blue as my dress. As everyone else greets me warmly, some of the tension leaves my body. However, when Ryan hugs me, the tension returns. I don’t meet his eyes as I lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Try as I might to shut out the torrent of emotions, I fail miserably – the yearning from him is overwhelming. Panic and fear claw at me as I wonder if I’ve made a mistake coming tonight.

No, Mac. You will not stay home and be miserable.

“Mac, this is Cindy-Sue,” Ryan says to me, introducing his date.

I smile politely at the woman. There is one upside to Ryan bringing a date tonight, and that is no-one will be able to talk about next week’s kiss between Stone and Brianna. Under the confidentiality clause we all signed before working on the show, none of us are allowed to discuss anything related to Hart’s Valley off the set. Of course we gossip about things – everyone does — but only among the six of us. The first episode of the new season airs this week, and if the press gets word of Stone and Brianna’s new romantic plot before the show goes to air, we will all be in trouble.  

“Cindy-Sue, this is Mackenzie Lauren,” Ryan says.

“Mackenzie, I am such a fan. Please call me Cindy,” Cindy says, extending her hand. “When Ryan told me he was having dinner with the rest of the cast I begged him to bring me. He said you weren’t coming, but I’m so glad you did.”

I don’t know what I expected Ryan’s date to be like, but it isn’t this sweet and genuine woman in front of me. Apart from being warm and friendly, Cindy is also startlingly attractive, with big green eyes, and shoulder length blonde hair that curls slightly at the ends. It would have been easier for me to see Ryan with someone else, someone fake and superficial.

Someone he would get tired of quickly and wouldn’t keep around. Will Cindy be hanging around for a while?

My heart twists again, a sensation that is becoming increasingly familiar when it comes to Ryan. I loathe that feeling. I’m not supposed to feel possessive of a man who doesn’t belong to me. Even as I shake Cindy’s hand, envy winds around my chest and squeezes until I struggle to breathe. It doesn’t matter if Cindy and Ryan only last three months. It will still be more time than I will ever have with him.

“And you can call me Mac,” I say to her as I take my seat between Jazz and Matt, opposite Ryan.

I pick up the menu and scan the list of alcoholic beverages available. I bypass the wine and go straight for the cocktail. I need something stronger tonight. I need liquid courage and a chance to forget the man opposite me.

I turn to Jazz. “I was thinking about hitting a club tonight. Are you up for it?”

My best friend looks surprised for a second, before that surprise quickly turns to excitement. “Hell yes. I’ve been asking you to come clubbing with me forever.”

“I know,” I say.

“You didn’t even want to come out to dinner when I asked you about it. What gives?”

I think about the condoms sitting in my handbag. “I need…a distraction.”

“Distraction from what?” Matt asks.

Suddenly aware of Ryan’s eyes burning a hole in my head, I shrug. “My boredom.”

“Can I come?” Matt asks.

“Count me in,” Brad says. “You know I’d never say no to a chance to dance.”

“You mean to score,” Matt corrects him.

Great. I was hoping that tonight would end up being a girl’s night, but now Matt and Brad will both be coming.

“You in?” I ask Vanessa.

“Sure,” Vanessa says. “I won’t make it a late one since I need to be in the studio first thing in the morning, but I’ll come out for a couple of hours.”

“Excellent,” I nod.

An awkward silence descends as I go back to studying my menu. I haven’t asked Ryan and Cindy if they wanted to join us. Honestly, I don’t want them to, not when the distraction I need is from Ryan himself. But as the silence grows around the table, so does my guilt. I know that if I don’t extend them an offer now, my friends will start to wonder. Hopefully Ryan will say no.

“Do you guys, um, want to join us?”

“We’d love to,” Cindy says to me, looking relieved. “I mean, if you don’t mind us tagging along.”

I give her a strained smile and lie through my teeth. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Providing Ryan wants to go of course,” Cindy says, darting a look at Ryan.

I turn back to my menu, and hold my breath as I wait for his answer. Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

“What could be more fun than helping Mac find a distraction?” Ryan asks.

The way he said distraction implies he knows exactly what kind I am looking for. He had, after all, used the same phrase to refer to the women he was sleeping with.

My eyes snap to his face. Is he making fun of me? However, instead of the amusement I expect to see, Ryan’s eyes are hard and cold. His jaw is clenched shut and his displeasure is obvious. Well, that’s too bad for him, isn’t it? If he can have his distraction, so can I. I need it.

“Would you like to order some drinks?” a waiter asks.

✯Ryan✯

The evening is shaping up to be an absolute shocker. I listen to Mac order a Screaming Orgasm and flirt with our waiter, giggling and batting her eyelashes —it is so unlike her. She is being incredibly foolish tonight. I can see that she is intent on doing something downright stupid and I know I’m going to spend my evening keeping an eye on her and making sure she doesn’t get herself in trouble.

She’s damn well dressed for trouble too. Aside from the fact that the dress she’s wearing shows off so much of her sun-kissed skin, the dip between her breasts is wreaking havoc on my ability to concentrate on anything else. Ever since she sat down in front of me, my imagination has spun one fantasy after another. The thought of getting my mouth and hands under that short little dress of hers and pleasuring her until she sobs my name has me as hard as a rock. It doesn’t matter how I adjust myself, my jeans are too painfully tight.

“Exactly what kind of distraction are you looking for?” Matt asks Mac.

“Just some fun, right?” Jazz says.

“Sure,” Mac dismisses their questions.

It is on the tip of my tongue to call her out on her real intentions. Instead, I just tell her the truth. “Distractions don’t work for very long.”

Mac blushes as she catches my meaning, but not before she looks at Cindy-Sue and shoots me a pointed look. I guess I can’t blame her for assuming that a distraction might work. I’ve slept with a multitude of women over the past month, hoping to dull my desire for her. None of the encounters had done the job. If Mac thinks Cindy is any type of real distraction, she’s wrong.

The only reason I brought Cindy here tonight is because I thought introducing a new girlfriend might make everyone lay off me a bit. They’ve been puzzled and annoyed over the fact that I’ve stayed away so much this year. Only Brad knows the real reason, but it’s not like staying away from Mac has changed anything. In fact, my need for her has only intensified.

When I read the script for next episode of Hart’s Valley, I was torn between a mixture of relief and dread; relief that I can finally kiss her and touch her, and dread that I may not be able to stop at just the one kiss that’s in the script. I don’t know how much longer I can fight my attraction to her. I’m not even sure I want to keep fighting it.

Working under the same roof as her, day in, day out, while trying to suppress my feelings, is taking its toll on me. Last year we lunched together regularly and hung out together between every take. The truth is, I really, really miss Mac’s company.

The combination of desire and friendship I feel towards her is more than I’ve ever experienced with anyone else. Now, hearing that she wants to find some kind of distraction from me? The words, “hell no” keep flashing in my mind. I don’t want her to be distracted by anyone else. And that is the most dangerous thought I’ve had all night. 

❤️Mac❤️

“We should go to Heat,” Matt says.

“No way, we should go to Twister,” Brad says.

“Doll’s House is my preferred choice,” Vanessa adds.

“Mac should choose,” Jazz interjects. “Where do you want to go, Mac?”

I finish my fourth Screaming Orgasm and put the glass back down on the table, almost knocking over Jazz’s glass in the process. My vision is tracking everything a little too slowly, and I feel dizzy. Instead of drinking enough to bolster the right amount of courage for later, I’ve gone too hard too fast. As usual I’m a lightweight at drinking, going from sober to drunk in the blink of an eye—minus the happy feeling I’d anticipated.

It serves me right, I suppose, for relying on alcohol to make me feel confident. I believed that it would numb my feeling of jealousy over seeing Ryan with someone else, but it hasn’t worked yet. I’m a fool—a pathetic, drunken fool. A fool who can’t stop thinking about the kiss I will share with my co-star in a matter of days, despite the fact I still don’t have my feelings for him under control.

Now my friends want to know which club I want to go to, but I don’t want to go clubbing anymore. I’m too drunk, too miserable, to enjoy myself tonight.

“Mac?” Jazz prompts.  

“The Spice Club,” I say, giving them the first name I can think of.

A chorus of agreement follows. I try not to think about the long walk I have to take home from the Spice Club. It will be some kind of miracle if I can walk out of here without falling flat on my face. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it home in my ridiculously high heels without breaking an ankle in the process.

“I’m going to have to go home and change,” Ryan says.

“Yes, there’s no way you’ll get into the Spice Club in jeans,” Cindy tells him.

“Can you take me home then?” I turn to Ryan.

He looks just as surprised by the question as I am. We haven’t spoken to each other since I’ve arrived, and having dutifully kept our distance for the past month, what possessed me to break our pact?

I’ve seen an opportunity to escape, that's what, a way out without ruining the night for everyone else. I’ve slipped back into the unconscious habit of asking Ryan to take me to places.

“You need something from home?” Ryan asks, watching me closely.

Dammit, that yearning feeling is back again. Asking him for a ride was such a bad idea, but I know there’s no way I will be able to make it back to my place by myself.

Besides, it isn’t like I’ll be alone with him, right? Cindy will be here with us. The two lovebirds can give me a lift home and then go off and enjoy the rest of their night together.

“Yes, I forgot something,” I tell him.

✯Ryan✯

I know should say no. I haven’t been able to stop staring at Mac all night. Images of her perky breasts and puckered nipples have haunted me the whole way through dinner. How will I be able to keep her at a distance when I want to touch her so badly? But Mac had asked me for a ride, and she wouldn’t have done so without good reason.

“What did you forget?” Jazz asks.

“Yes, what did you forget?” I ask her. Maybe I can just pick it up for her.

“Um, ID.”

“Everyone knows who you are,” Cindy says.

“I should still have it though and I’d really appreciate the lift,” Mac says, looking past me. Her eyes are glazed. “Be back in a minute.”

I watch Mac stand up. She wobbles profusely before grabbing onto the back of the chair she’s sitting on as if her life depends on it.

Mac’s come out dressed to seduce, with distraction on her mind, but not brought her ID? I’m not buying it. She’s too drunk to go out, and she knows it. She wants to pass out in my car, or she wants to go home and tell me to go to the club without her. To my absolute relief, Mission – Find a Distraction won’t be going ahead tonight.

“I don’t know what’s with going on with Mac,” Jazz says, once Mac wobbles off to the bathroom.

“She’s drunk,” I say.

“I know that, Ryan. But it’s more than that. Something’s wrong. I know it. And she won’t talk to me. Has she said anything to you?”

I shake my head, but of course I know. It’s the same thing that’s bothering me.

“She’s so distant, and…and she seems so sad tonight,” Jazz continues, nibbling her bottom lip. “I’m really worried about her.”

My chest tightens. I hate the idea of Mac being upset. If she needs a lift home, I will do that for her. Providing I don’t look at her, and as long as we’re not left alone together, I can handle it.

“Cindy and I can take her home,” I say. “Mac’s not up to clubbing tonight.”

Jazz nods. “I’d argue with you, but honestly, I don’t think the bouncers would let her in. Can you talk to her? Find out what’s wrong?”

“I could stay here…if you want?” Cindy offers tentatively. “Give the two of you a chance to talk.”

“You can come with us,” I say.

Cindy has to come with us.

“Mac won’t talk to you with a stranger in the car,” Jazz says. “No offence, Cindy. Why doesn’t Cindy come with us to The Spice Club? That way you can talk to Mac.”

“I don’t mind,” Cindy says, putting her hand over mine.

I believe her. Cindy has been very excited about meeting the cast and I have no doubt she would love hanging out with them. But I don’t want to be left alone with Mac. Unfortunately, Jazz wants answers and seems hell-bent on pushing us together.

“She’s coming back now,” Jazz says.

I look up just in time to see Mac lose her footing on the small set of stairs. Before I can stop myself, I’m rearing up from the seat. Mac just manages to keep herself upright by hanging onto the banister, as she hobbles towards us.

At this rate she’s going, she’s going to need help even getting into the car. We will need to use the side entrance to exit the restaurant. Even though it’s Melbourne, not Hollywood, the city still loves a scandal. Hart’s Valley co-stars dining together—not that interesting. Hart’s Valley actress drunk and being carried out by co-star—it will be front-page news by tomorrow morning.

“So, can I get a lift with you?” Mac asks me when she reaches the table.

I don’t want to touch Mac without Cindy there as a buffer, but it seems I don’t have a choice either. I silently curse Jazz for her well-meaning interference.

“I will give you a lift,” I say.

❤️Mac❤️

I sit back down in my chair because I simply can’t manage to stand upright any longer. I almost slipped and broke my neck just now on the stairs, and I’m still feeling shaky.

“Whenever you and Cindy are ready,” I gesture to Ryan, before pulling out wads of cash out of my purse and shoving them to Jazz – the designated bill sorter when we go out for dinner.

“Cindy is going to come straight to the club with us,” Jazz says.

“But-”

“Ryan will take you home.”

No. I can’t be alone with Ryan. I’m tired and drunk and sick of pretending I don’t feel what I feel. I dart a glance at Ryan, hoping he will tell me that Jazz is joking, but he is only looking at Cindy.

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” he says.

“I’ll be fine. See you in a bit.”

Even if Cindy seems like the nicest person on the planet, I hate her just a little bit right now. I should be the one going with Jazz to The Spice Club, not Cindy. Not only does Cindy get Ryan, but she also gets my friends and my night out too. It is obvious from Ryan’s face that he doesn’t want to part from Cindy. Jealousy stabs through me for the billionth time tonight.

“It was really nice to meet you, Mac,” Cindy says.

“Likewise,” I say weakly.

“Come on,” Ryan stands up.

“Where are you two going?” Brad asks.

“We’ll meet you at the club,” Ryan says.

“You okay, Mac?” Brad asks me, ignoring him.

“I’m fine,” I say.

Brad looks like he wants to say more but then Ryan is beside me, putting his hand on the small of my back. I shiver as I feel the heat of his touch through the thin material of my dress.

“Side exit,” Ryan says.

We make our way through the loud, clattering kitchen of the restaurant. It doesn't take me long before I stumble. I feel Ryan’s arm wrap around my waist almost instinctively.

“It’s okay,” Ryan says, his voice low in the dark. “I’ve got you.”

That’s is exactly what I’m afraid of, isn’t it? Ryan has me. I am done pushing him away for now. I hold on to his arm around my waist, and concentrate on putting one foot in front of another. However, when I feel his burgeoning erection against my backside, I realise I’m not the only one affected by our close proximity. My body’s immediate, answering reaction is so swift, I suck in a breath.

“Oh my God,” I choke out.

As soon as we’re out of the restaurant, Ryan loosens his grip, but doesn’t let me go.

“You should let me go,” I whisper.

“Not yet,” Ryan says to me, his voice tight. “I don’t want, “Australia’s Romeo has a hard-on for Mackenzie Lauren,” plastered across the tabloids tomorrow. Do you?”

I shake my head. I’m suddenly grateful that my own arousal isn’t anywhere near as apparent as his. He may be able to see the goose bumps across my arms, but he can’t see the way my nipples have hardened into hard little buds, desperate for his touch. Ryan can’t see the damp heat inside my underwear, how my insides quivered as his touch, or the throb of desire low in my belly.

✯Ryan✯

I have a problem, I realise, as I walk us quickly towards the car. A problem now occupying the top spot on my shit-list. A big, epically bad problem. I can’t touch Mac. I can’t touch my co-star without getting so turned on that I can’t think straight. There’s no way I’m going to be able to hold back when I kiss her. I want her too damn much. 

I ignore the people snapping photos of us, and guide Mac down the laneway where I parked the car. I fumble for the lock on my key, before I help Mac slide in and we take off. We don’t speak until we reach Mac’s apartment building.

“I don’t think you should come up,” she says as I turn off the ignition. Mac undoes her seatbelt and fumbles for her purse.

“You’re right,” I say. “I shouldn’t come up.”

She nods. Her hand reaches for the door handle, but I put my hand on her arm to stop her from getting out.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Mackenzie,” I say her full name out in a rush.

Mac goes perfectly still as her eyes lock with mine.

“I don’t think I want to fight this anymore,” I say.

Ep. 7

❤️Mac❤️

I hold my breath. This is it, isn’t it? Ryan is going to tell me that we shouldn’t spend time together outside the studio anymore—just like in my dream last night. I had one chance to prove it to him that I can handle this thing between us, but I’ve blown it. Hot humiliation sweeps through me.

“Brianna and Stone,” Ryan says. “They’re getting involved next season.”

“What?” My heart drops.

“They’re writing us together; stepping up our romance.”

“No. It’s too soon.”

“I know it is, but it’s the direction they’re taking,” Ryan doesn’t look at me.

“I thought…I thought they’d want to draw it out.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t.”

Ryan’s hand is still wrapped around my wrist. I feel his touch, a heat rising through my arm. I would pull free if I could stand upright. My co-star is used to dealing with cool, calm and professional actors, but cool and calm is the last thing I feel right now. I’m panicked and terrified. I need more time to sort out my feelings towards him, to overcome my attraction to him.

“Are you sure?” I ask him. “How do you know?”

“Claire told me.”

Why does he sound so calm? Is it possible Ryan has it wrong? Maybe he’s only speculating.

“But we haven’t been in the studio this year.”

“I know,” Ryan says. “I found out last year.”

“Last year?”

“On our last day of shooting.”

“But…you never said anything. You didn’t tell me.”

“I was looking for the right time to tell you.”

“And that’s now, is it?”

“We’re back in the studio, so…I’m out of time,” Ryan says.

I can't believe he's waited this long to tell me. Does he think I'm going to lose it and crack under the pressure? Even if things have been strained between us lately, he's known since the end of shooting last year – before everything became weird between us. So why hasn't he told me? Why hasn't he talked to me about it? Does he consider me so inexperienced and incompetent that I can't handle it?

Kissing my leading men is part of my job description. This shouldn't be a big deal. God knows Ryan has kissed his share of leading ladies, but his eyes are filled with worry. He's probably waiting for me to have the inevitable meltdown he believes is coming, especially after what I said to him at Jazz's party. My co-star has always looked out for me, and I've always appreciated it, but today I find it insulting.

Yes, I'm attracted to him, and yes, I'm more than a little nervous about Brianna and Stone becoming involved, but I'm not so pathetic that I'm going to fall apart and forget how to do my job. He's shown he's not going to let the attraction he feels towards me affect his life in any way, hopping from one bed to another since our dance. I have to prove to him that I'm not going to let what I feel for him get the better of me. I can still do my job.

“Mac?” he asks.

 “It’s sooner than I would have expected this to come,” I say coolly. “But it should be…fun.”

✯Ryan✯

I stare at her, unable to believe what I'm hearing. Fun? I've been freaking out over how to tell her for the last two months, and she coolly dismisses it as if it's going to be nothing but a frolicking good time. She just doesn't get it. Brianna and Stone are going to hook up. That means the two of us will be exploring some of our intense chemistry while trying to remember we're being filmed.

“Mac, I don’t think you understand.”

“Don’t patronise me. Of course I understand, but this isn’t a big deal.”

“It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

“Why? This is our job, Ryan.”

“I’m well aware of that, Mac; but don’t pretend this isn’t anything to worry about.”

“Why? Because of what I said at Jazz’s party? Look, if I gave you the impression I was struggling with…what I feel, I was wrong to do that. I have this under control. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle this.”

I frown. Does Mac think she's the only one struggling with this thing between us? How can she possibly think that after the dance we shared? The more time I spend with her, the more I want her, and the harder it is to resist her. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the scenes we're going to share this season. The potential for our on-set heat to become off-set heat is far too high.

“It’s not just you I’m worried about,” I try to explain. “I don’t think you understand quite how much I want to act on this thing between us.”

“You’re right,” she shakes her head. “I don’t understand. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks, and sleeping with everything in a skirt. I’d say you’ve been doing a very good job of not acting on it.”

Mac clamps her mouth shut and looks away quickly, her cheeks turning pink, as if realising she’s said more than she wanted to.

“Is that what you think?” I ask her. “These past few weeks I’ve been doing everything I can to keep myself distracted. There’s not a day gone by that I haven’t thought about you, Mac.”

Mac swallows and pulls her arm free of my grip. She takes a step back.

“We’re supposed to be friends,” she says.

“Which is why I’m telling you this.”

Mac’s eyes flash. “Yet you couldn’t tell me about Stone and Brianna’s romance next season until now?”

“No,” I say evenly. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Mac folds her arms and stares at me. I see the hurt in her eyes.

 “Why do you think?”

“It’s because you think I can’t handle this – us; because you think I won’t be able to do my job,” she tells me. “Isn’t it?”

I shake my head incredulously as I realise what’s bothering her. “What? No. How could you think that? I think you’re amazing, Mac. You know that. You’re better than the majority of the actresses I’ve worked with. I’m sure I’ve told you that before.”

I see the relief passing over Mac’s face. Again, I’m filled with that uncontrollable urge to take her into my arms. Mac hugs herself as she rocks back on her heels. Seeing her so small and vulnerable, I desperately want to take back the past three weeks, I want to tell her that she’s wrong for thinking that I don’t care. Wrong for thinking that I can stay away.

“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” Mac says. “I miss hanging out with you. I don’t want us to not hang out together anymore.”

“I know,” I say. “But we can’t pretend that nothing is different when it is. I’m trying so hard to resist this. I don’t want what happened between you and Westlaker to happen between you and me.”

“It won’t,” Mac whispers.

“How sure are you about that, Mac?” I ask her softly, and I find myself taking a step towards her.

Mac moves away, but the kitchen bench is behind her. My arms come up to brace against it on either side of her, and I trap her in front of me. My lips are inches away from hers, the tension in my body palpable. I watch as her eyes darken with desire until they are barely recognisable.

 “If we sleep together it could mess up everything,” I tell her. “Even if it would be… good between us.”

Mac’s lips part in surprise and the colour hits her cheeks as her blue eyes widen and latch onto mine. She is so beautiful. Irresistible. How can she ever doubt how much she affects me? I want to kiss her, taste her. As she gazes back at me, desire replaces the wariness in her eyes. Everything about her is so tempting. Her tongue darts out, moistening her parted lips. There is no way I’m going to get through one of our scenes together if she looks at me like that on set.

“You make it so damn hard to resist you, do you know that? You keep putting out these signals.”

“What signals?”

“Your eyes, your lips, your face; they tell me so much.”

“What do they tell you?” Mac asks breathlessly.

“That you want me to kiss you,” I whisper.

“Oh,” she breathes softly.

“They tell me you want to go to bed with me.” Right now, having her in my arms, the urge to placate my desire is too great. The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Ryan…”

“They tell me you want me inside you.”

Mac gasps, and I push myself away from her. I’ve crossed the line. Hell, my blood has all rushed south and I’m not thinking straight. Mac leans against the bench, breathing heavily, stunned, sexy and aroused. It would take so very little for all out chemistry to explode between us. Does she see that yet? This is bad. I’m in too dee. For a moment, I forgot that my co-stars are in the other room, and judging from the way she’s looking at me, Mac probably had too.

Why does this have to be so damn hard? I care about Mac. I don’t want to hurt her. I know we can’t be together while we both work on Hart’s Valley, but every time I get close to her, I’m tempted to toss reason and logic out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know we’re friends. And I miss what we had too, but I think…I think we could both do with some distance here.”

Mac closes her eyes, and I can see the indecision pass over her face. She has to realise I’m doing the right thing, doesn’t she? This dangerous and potent mutual need between us is guaranteed to end badly if we act on it. The last thing I want to do to her what Westlaker did.

“You’re right. I think we do need some distance,” Mac says, her voice strained. 

Relief washes over me. She does understand after all.

“What’s going on in here?”

I turn to see Brad leaning in the kitchen doorway, a curious expression on his face. Mac quickly returns to doing the dishes.

“Nothing,” I answer.

“We’re going down to the beach to play cricket,” Brad says, glancing from Mac back to me. “You guys in?”

“I’m heading off,” I say.

The truth is, I need time to clear my thoughts. Go home, have a cold shower or two.

“Oh, come on,” Brad says. “The twins can’t wait? Numbers will be uneven without you.”

“Sorry,” I say. “You’re going to have to find someone else to fill my spot.”

Mac is rushing to finish the last few dishes. I notice the droop in her shoulders, the weight of defeat in her posture. She's closer to me than anyone else in this city, and I know pulling away from her won't be easy for either of us. This need for distance will undoubtedly shift the dynamic of our entire cast. We're like family, and if one of us misses events, it's bound to upset the group. So maybe I should be the one, and not her, to take a step back from everything.

“Well, these are done,” Mac says, putting the last dish in the dish rack. “I guess I’ll get ready to go.”

I watch Brad move out of the way to let Mac through. Once she is gone, Brad walks into the kitchen.

“What’s going on between you and Mac? And don’t tell me, ‘nothing.’ I know what I saw.”

I sigh. “You didn’t see anything.”

“You sleeping with her?”

“No.” Not yet, anyway.

“Is that why you haven’t been hanging around lately? Because you slept with Mac and now you’re giving her the brush off?” Brad persists.

“I haven’t slept with Mac,” I tell him.

“I really like this show,” Brad says. “I really like this cast.”

“As do I.”

“We’re on a winner here with Hart’s Valley,” Brad gives me a hard stare. “I’m not going to mess with it. Are you?”

“I’m trying really hard not to,” I admit.

“Good,” Brad says. “Mac doesn’t deserve to be messed around again.”

“I know that.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but look at your track record. You haven’t dated anyone for more than a few months at a time.”

“I know,” I repeat, gritting my teeth.

“You’d break her heart, and then our show would be dust,” Brad continues. “The main reason people watch the show is because of Stone and Brianna.”

“They watch it because it’s good drama,” I say defensively.

Brad laughs. “They watch it because they want to see the two of you get it on.”

“Yeah, well, they’re going to get their wish,” I say.

Brad looks at me blankly.

“Claire told me that things between Brianna and Stone are heating up this season.”

“Seriously? That’s awesome news,” Brad says.

Awesome isn’t exactly the word I would use to describe the situation. But judging from the expression on Brad’s face, he seems excited by the prospect.

“Ratings are going to go through the roof,” Brad says. “And your little problem with Mac is solved. Everyone knows things only went screwy between her and Danny after their characters started sleeping together on Junction Hospital. She’d never get involved with her leading man again. All you have to do is tell her.”

“She knows.”

“And?”

“And I’m leaving,” I clap Brad on the shoulder. “You need to find another sixth for cricket.”

And for everything else until I have this thing with Mac under control. If that is even possible.

❤️Mac❤️

Over the course of the next month Ryan keeps his distance, and I do the same. Thankfully, everyone else appears clueless about the fact we’re actively avoiding each other. Though he was reluctant at first, Ryan agreed we would take turns accepting the invitations to get-togethers. We both decided people would start to ask us questions if he was the one who kept bowing out. It is better this way, and it’s all working out—except for the loneliness that seems to have taken up permanent residence inside me.

I make my way towards the set. Today, they are shooting the latest episode of Hart’s Valley. I slide into the studio through the back door, careful not to make a sound. There is no scene for me today, but I like to watch Ryan work. He doesn’t know this, but since last year I’ve made a habit of it. Even with the new rules of our relationship and our need to avoid one another, I just can’t seem to shake off the habit. It is a small bit of comfort I cling to.

As usual, the sight of Ryan in a suit makes my heart beat faster and my body grow warmer. His character, Stone, is a cool and calculating businessman, known for his ruthlessness both in love and in the boardroom. We haven’t shared too many scenes this year, but I know that is all about to change. Our romantic storyline is being set in swing, a development I can’t say I’m entirely happy about the direction the writers are taking.

“I can see you have a plan, Stone.”

Vanessa stands next to Ryan on stage. Vanessa plays Yvette Sullivan, Stone’s stepsister.

“Indeed I do.”

“One that will involve trouble, I can tell.”

“Yes, but not for us.”

“For whom then, dare I ask?”

“Brianna Davis.”

“You’re evil.”

“No, Yvette. I’m just desperate. We need her land.”

“She’s just lost her father.”

“Which means the land is hers to do with as she pleases.”

“How will you get her to part with it? She hates you. She’d rather see it go to Sawyer, than to you.”

“Well, you know what they say? There’s a fine line between-”

“Love and hate, yes I believe I might have heard that once or twice,” Yvette tells Stone, a wry smile curving her mouth.

“Brianna is going to realize she loves me.”

“A little cocky aren’t we?”

“Seduction is something I happen to do very well.”

“So you say.”

“Believe it. I’ll have Brianna signing over her land to us in no time at all.”

I have to hand it to the writers. I’ve been convinced that throwing Stone and Brianna together so early on in the show would be a terrible move, but clearly this storyline is going to be a hit. The viewers are desperate to see Stone seduce Brianna, even if love isn’t exactly on Stone’s agenda. I can imagine hordes of people tuning in to the show week after week, curious to see if Stone will shatter Brianna’s heart into a million pieces.

The thought sends a wave of nausea through me. I stand up in my chair and grab my handbag. Considering my mood lately, today may not be a good time for me to watch this particular scene. I try to slip out the back door unnoticed, but on my way out, I bump into Jazz.

“Mac, there you are!” Jazz exclaims. Her eyes are shining. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Here I am,” I say.

“It’s decided, you have to come with us tonight.”

“I can’t-”

“I know, you’ve already told us you have to call your father to make sure he takes his medicine, but we’ll just remind you.”

Jazz is adamant, and when Jazz makes up her mind on something, it’s difficult to convince her otherwise.

“Look,” she says, taking out her phone, “I’ll set a reminder.”

“I really can’t. I’m sorry, Jazz. I’m just tired.”

It’s a lame excuse really, but I’m running low on half-decent excuses. At least this one is the truth. My mum will be at bingo tonight and I do intend to call my father to remind him to take his heart medication.

“No, you are not pulling that one on me again,” Jazz insists. “Do you know it’s been over a month since we’ve all hung out together? I will do anything to make tonight happen. Read my lips. Any. Thing.”

I can't help but smile. Jazz has a flair for the dramatic, but I feel my resolve waning. The persistent ache in my chest intensifies each day. Spending time with friends might offer a distraction. Due to the new boundaries with Ryan, I've been seeing them less frequently. At times, it feels like I'm losing both Ryan and them.

After all, it's just dinner. I don’t have to stay long. What could go wrong with Ryan and me in a crowded restaurant, surrounded by friends?

The other option? Stay on my couch, binge-watch a show, and wallow in sadness, which has been my routine for weeks. Knowing Jazz, she won’t let up until she gets the answer she wants. If I keep declining her invitations, she might begin to suspect something's amiss.

“Okay,” I say, secretly hoping that Ryan won’t be upset with me for agreeing to this.

Jazz squeals and hugs me. “Thank goodness. I was starting to get worried I’d done something wrong, and you were avoiding me.”

I shake my head quickly. “Of course you haven’t.”

“It’ll be just like old times,” Jazz says before rolling her eyes. “Well, except for the fact that Ryan’s bringing a date tonight.”

“What?” My heart squeezes painfully. “He is?”

Ryan has never brought any of the women he dates to our cast dinners before. Or is this woman more than that? I suppose I should feel relieved he's found a distraction, but instead, I'm furious.

If Ryan has found someone else to occupy his time, does that mean the danger of us acting on our attraction isn't there anymore? There would be no harm in sitting there and having dinner with friends, with his date beside him, right? I can't pretend to know what's in Ryan’s head or how he feels anymore. It seems I got it all wrong when I spoke to him a month ago at Jazz’s. Why couldn't he have told me then he was already seeing someone? No one's mentioned to me that he's found someone new.

Here I am, still thinking about us. There is no "us," just silly fantasies on my part.

Jazz cuts into my thoughts. “Her name's Cindy-Lou, or something like that. You haven’t spoken to Ryan?”

“Ah, not recently.”

“What’s going on with you?” Jazz asks, suddenly serious. “You weren’t going to come out tonight, and you haven’t spoken to Ryan. Are you okay, Mac?”

I force a smile when I see Jazz's worried expression. “Yeah. I'm fine. I’m coming out tonight, aren't I?”

“Well, I'm due on set.” Jazz checks the time. “But I'm going to keep my eye on you, Mac. You've got me worried.”

“I’m fine,” I wave off her concern.

“A few drinks tonight, and you will be,” Jazz declares with a wink.

She starts to walk away but stops and turns back to face me.

“By the way,” Jazz says, “I just looked through the script for the next episode, and you and Ryan have a big scene.”

“We do?” I ask as my adrenaline begins to pump.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Jazz wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Stone and Brianna’s first kiss. I can't wait to see that.”

Ep. 6

❤️Mac❤️

"I had a really nice time with you tonight, Mac,” Dale says.

"Dinner was absolutely incredible. Thank you."

Tonight, I dined at Vue De Monde with Dale. Located on the fifty-fifth floor of the Rialto tower in Melbourne, Dale's choice of restaurant for our third date left me genuinely impressed. The food and wine surpassed anything I've tasted before, and the city's view was nothing short of breathtaking.

Dale proved to be the perfect dinner companion. He maintained an engaging conversation throughout the night, making it a point to ask about me. His presence is comforting – perhaps too comforting.

He's kissed me on two prior occasions, and those moments were... pleasant. Yet, they lacked the spark to set my heart racing.

Perhaps Dale needs another chance. After all, tonight’s menu boasted a mix of aphrodisiacs – oysters, champagne, and chocolate. A warmth spreads through me, influenced by the food and the champagne's bubbly charm. I hope, with every fiber of my being, that any ensuing passion will be directed solely towards him. I picture a life with the charming doctor, one where my relationship with Ryan resets to our old dynamics - before I ever voiced my feelings.

“Well,” I start, feigning a search for my keys in my handbag, silently urging Dale Morgan to make his move.

In an instant, he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. His arm wraps around my waist while his other hand cradles my head. Drawing me closer, I loop my arms around his neck, intent on immersing myself in the moment. Yet, as Dale deepens the kiss, introducing a gentle dance of tongues, my emotions remain static—devoid of the toe-curling passion or breath-stealing anticipation.

“Wow,” Dale murmurs as he breaks the connection.

Puzzled, I echo, “Wow?”

The kiss felt ordinary, devoid of any magic. A sinking feeling grips me. Are we not on the same page? Making matters worse is his connection to Jazz. How can I convey the lack of mutual chemistry? Jazz had envisioned a fairy tale for us. The undeniable fact remains: while Dale Morgan seems perfect on paper, there's no tangible spark between us.

No, the ‘spark’ seems to be reserved for a certain co-star who has been M.I.A for the past three weeks.

"That was bad, wasn't it?" Dale asks.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, there wasn't really anything there, was there?"

"When we kissed?" Am I hearing him right, or am I just being hopeful?

Dale nods, and relief washes over me. We are on the same page after all. That makes this so much less awkward than it could have been.

"No," I admit. "I'm sorry. There really wasn't."

"It was kind of like kissing my sister," Dale says.

"Oh, do you kiss her often?" I joke.

He grins. "Only on special occasions."

I laugh. "Jazz will be disappointed."

"She'll deal with it."

"She will."

"Perhaps we could go out as friends sometime," Dale offers.

"That would be nice." It will probably never happen, but it's a nicer sentiment than 'have a nice life. I'll probably never see you again.'

"Goodbye, Mac."

"Goodbye, Dale."

I open my apartment door, kick off my high heels, and drop my handbag onto the couch in the lounge room. My gaze automatically shifts to the tiny Christmas tree where the gift I've bought Ryan still sits unopened. I know he has been at his mother's over Christmas, but there have been several catch-ups at Jazz's since he returned, and he hasn't attended any of them.

Our castmates believe that Ryan has been too busy with models and international party girls to hang out with us, but I know better. I close my eyes, remembering my careless slip.

"Brad's not the one I'm likely to make the same mistake with."

Ryan had ignored me all night, then confronted me with that nonsense about Brad. He'd acted foolishly, but I’d been the bigger fool—hinting at the attraction I feel towards him. And then, recklessly, I danced with him, relishing his touch!

Now, Ryan is keeping his distance. He likely thinks he's doing right by me, but it stings that he's cut off all contact. No phone calls, no coffee invites, and he's barely acknowledged my messages, only wishing me seasonal greetings.

Things with Dale didn't pan out. Does that mean Ryan will keep avoiding me until I find someone new? We start work on Monday. We need to cooperate. I wish I could retract my words, but that's impossible. We have to navigate this. It shouldn't be so complicated; we're adults, not impulsive teenagers.

I grab my mobile phone, find his contact, and dial. Tomorrow is Sunday, and Jazz is hosting a barbecue. Ryan might not plan to attend, but he should. As I wait for him to pick up, the call diverts to voicemail. Glancing at the clock, I note it's past eleven. He's likely occupied. I quash the questions swirling in my head about his activities and focus on leaving a message.

"Hey, Ryan, it's Mac. Listen..."

I bolt out of bed when I hear banging on my door. A bleary-eyed look at the clock on the wall in the lounge room tells me that it's two in the morning. Who would be at my door at this time?

"Ryan."

He doesn't wait to be invited in.

"Is everything okay?" I ask as he walks past me.

"I got your message," he tells me, turning to face me. "I'm sorry, but I just don't think we should spend time together anymore, outside of work."

I feel as if I've just had the wind knocked out of me. His words are so blunt. "Oh."

"It's for the best."

Hurt sweeps through me. "I don't believe that. We're friends."

"Are we?"

"Yes. Of course we are."

"Be honest. You want to be more."

"No. I want us to be friends."

"But you can't ignore it, can you?"

Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks at the accusation that I'm too overcome by what I feel for him to push it aside.

"Us getting involved wouldn't be a good idea for you, Mac."

I know that already, don't I? I would be the one to come off second best if I allowed myself to pursue anything with him. I am the one with everything to lose. Should our executive producer find out that we've become involved and decide to fire one of us, I already know which one of us is more disposable. It isn't the seasoned actor standing in front of me. It would be me. And my career would be over for good this time.

"I know that. I can ignore it," I tell him.

As I speak the words, I can't help but doubt their sincerity. My gaze shifts from his warm hazel eyes to his sinfully tempting mouth and then to his chest. I know what lies beneath that shirt. Once upon a time, I studied and admired each sculpted muscle and every defining line daily. And night after night, I indulged my curiosity before bed, imagining his body on top of mine, bringing me pleasure that, at fifteen, I'd only been able to dream of. Now, at twenty-three, I have a much clearer understanding of what he can do to me.

He moves closer. "You're in denial," he whispers, his breath tickling my ear as his lips graze my jaw.

The subtle contact makes me shudder. My breath catches in my throat when he pulls away and looks down at my breasts, which strain against the thin material of my soft pink nightie. My nipples have pebbled, betraying his effect on me.

"You can't hide it anymore," he says.

"I'm trying," I reply, desperation evident in my voice.

I want to hide my feelings, but I can't. He places his finger under my chin and lifts my face, ensuring our eyes meet.

"I know you are," he tells me. "But here's the thing; when I see how much you want me, I can't hold back."

"Ryan…"

Before panic can set in, he brushes his lips over mine. The fleeting kiss sends a jolt of electricity through me. The energy from his touch permeates my entire being. I have never felt anything so intense. It seems as if every nerve ending in my body is alive and tingling with anticipation, making it difficult to stand. If a mere brush of his lips can elicit such a response, what pleasure could he bring if we went to bed together? I suddenly need to find out.

He watches me intently, his dark eyes filled with anticipation, waiting for my next move. My eyes never leave his as I reach for his shirt, ripping it open and sending buttons scattering.

"I don't want you to hold back," I declare before placing my palms on either side of his face and drawing his mouth back to mine.

I sit up in bed, my body covered in a thin sheen of sweat and my breath coming out in short, sharp bursts. I look for Ryan beside me, but he isn't there. It was a dream. I left him a message, telling him we can handle the tension between us, and then I promptly fell asleep and dreamed about tearing his shirt open and kissing him.

My body still feels hot from the memory of his lips on mine, and even though it hadn't been real—he hadn't actually kissed me—I find myself craving him. Desire and need continue to swirl uncomfortably within me, making me restless. Risking my career and my heart to be with him would be the most foolish decision I could make. I can't allow myself to forget that. I lay back down, close my eyes, and try to erase the image of me ripping his shirt off.

"Shall we fire up the barbecue?" Brad asks.

Five of us sit in Jazz's living room. Despite the message I left Ryan last night, he hasn't shown up today. Disappointment gnaws at me. I’ll see him tomorrow on set, but I really wanted to prove to him that we could spend time together without it being awkward. I long for our friendship to return to how it was before our dance at Jazz's—before I ruined everything by revealing my feelings. When my emotions ruled me, I made stupid mistakes.

"Moore's not coming?" Matt inquires.

"He's too busy partying with Winona and Kira," Brad informs him.

"You'd think he could take a day off from his…extracurricular activities to hang out with his friends," Jazz remarks, rolling her eyes. "We're back at work tomorrow. He's got to be exhausted."

"Yeah, keeping the international party twins busy," Brad chuckles.

I feel foolish as I listen to the conversation around me. While I’ve been dreaming about tearing his shirt off and kissing him, Ryan has been keeping himself occupied—with twins! For a moment, jealousy threatens to consume me. Believing he is as affected by the attraction between us as I am makes me feel like an idiot. Ryan Moore could have any woman—or women—he desires.

"Knock, knock," Ryan calls through the front door.

The sound of his voice makes my heart beat so fast that I feel dizzy. My temperature rises, and my palms feel clammy. God, I am losing it.

Get it together. You can do this.

Today has to go well. I have to convince him that we can spend time in each other's company without it being too strained.

I watch him walk into the lounge, take in his recently showered appearance, and it is as if someone has pressed the replay button on last night's dream. His eyes lock with mine as images of me ripping his shirt off flash before my eyes. This has to stop. He has his twins, and I want things to go back to the way they were. I have to suppress, deny, and forget the sexual desire coursing through me. And even if I can't, I am an actor. Pretending is what I do best.

✯Ryan✯

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Vanessa says.

"Threw up, more likely," Brad adds.

I listen to everyone crack their jokes. My castmates all think they’re comedians today.

I shake my head. "You guys are hilarious."

I knew before I arrived that I would have to endure some ribbing for disappearing the way I did. So, I laugh and smile as the guys clap me on the back. I kiss and hug Jazz and Vanessa, and when I get to Mac, I embrace her quickly and then let her go. It's too easy to remember how good it had felt to have her pressed against me as we danced together—how responsive she'd been.

Apparently, the time I've spent away from her has done nothing to diminish the attraction I feel towards her. She's dressed for the summer heat in her tiny cornflower blue tank top and her short denim skirt. I swear she has the longest legs I've ever seen. Just the sight of those sun-kissed legs is enough to send lust rocketing through me.

For so many months, I've been able to ignore the chemistry between us on and off the set. But it's as if the moment we stopped shooting the show, I couldn't hold onto that professional boundary the way I used to. Without work to focus on, my libido seems to be the part of me most in control around my co-star. And as much as I'd like to believe things will go back to the way they were when we walk back on set tomorrow, I doubt I'll be able to switch off the lustful responses Mac elicits from me.

"I'm just going to put these beers in the fridge," I say, making an excuse to get away and get my thoughts under control.

For the past few weeks, I've stayed away from her and hoped to God that things were working out between her and the doc. I've been trying to do my part to make sure we never cross the line from co-stars to lovers. However, the voicemail message I found from her this morning was a wake-up call. She'd done her best to cover it, but I could tell she was upset by the way I've been avoiding her. So, here I am. I just hope showing up today isn't a mistake.

"How are Kira and Winona?" Brad asks with a smirk when I return from the kitchen.

"Don't know. I haven't seen them for a few days."

Despite the fact that there have been pictures of me with the Reilly-Adams twins splashed across newspapers and magazines, I've only spent a couple of nights with the girls. They might have a certain reputation, but it isn't deserved. I'd gone to the opening of their father's hotel with them, but it hadn't ended in the big bang Brad expects in probably did.

"Sure, sure," Matt says.

"Our Romeo is showing the girls a bit of Aussie hospitality," Brad jokes.

I laugh off my friends' doubts. It doesn't matter whether they believe me or not. I have to have some excuse for not being around. I can't really tell them that I'm totally hot for Mac right now, so the "party-twins" are a good excuse. I look over at Mac, but she won't meet my gaze.

Does it bother her? Does it bother her to think about me with other women the way it bothers me to think about her with the doctor?

I have rarely been jealous and had never felt the need to be before, but something about Mac brings it out in me. I don't like the thought of her with anyone, and I certainly don't like thinking about her with Jazz's doctor friend. But I need it to work out between her and the doc. If I can't find a darn good reason to keep my hands off Mac while we're out of the studio, we're going to wind up in bed together.

"How are things with the doc?" I ask her.

Her smile seems forced. "Ah, not happening."

"Why not?" I ask. "I thought you said he was perfect."

"He was," Mac tells me.

"There was just no spark," Jasmine says, sounding forlorn. "No chemistry."

"There'll be another guy," I tell Mac.

She nods. "I know."

I hate the fact that Mac sounds so disappointed. I feel her disappointment, right along with a massive helping of dread. I've been counting on that relationship working out for her. It would have helped both of us feel safer when we start getting into the love scenes on set, but now there's no safety net. I don't want to screw up the friendship between us, and I don't want to mess her over the way Westlaker had, but I keep losing sight of those facts every time she makes my blood rush south.

"Hey."

Mac startles when I join her in the kitchen. She's washing the dishes while everyone else is crammed in front of the television watching the cricket. She had rejected all earlier offers of help, including mine.

She side-eyes me as I pick up a tea towel and begin drying dishes.

"Thanks," she says quietly.

"No worries."

We wash and dry without saying a word until she finally breaks the silence.

"I have your Christmas present at home," she says.

"Yeah? I have your Christmas present at home too, though I can probably just tell you what it is."

"Oh?"

"Two tickets to the ballet," I tell her.

A grin breaks out across her face as our eyes meet. She's always wanted to go, and I hadn't been able to resist buying her tickets.

"You're taking me to the ballet?" she asks.

"Ah, I thought you could go with one of the girls, or a date, or something."

Her smile slips for a moment. Great, I've disappointed her. I wanted to do something nice for her, but she's disappointed I'm not taking her. She doesn't understand it's not because I don't want to go with her, it's because I want to go with her a little too much.

She wipes her hands on the hand towel next to her and puts her arms around me, hugging me. "That's awesome. Thanks, Ryan."

For a moment, I hesitate, knowing hugging her is a risk. But it's one I have to take. I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer. When she pulls back to look at me, I know that's my cue to let her go. Instead, my eyes drop to her mouth. I can't tear them away as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip. There's no mistaking the invitation she's making. God, I want to take her up on it. I don't think I've ever wanted to kiss a woman as much as I want to kiss Mac right now, but if I do kiss her, we won't stop with a kiss. I know that instinctively. I won't be able to stop until I've buried myself deep inside her and reached my end.

How am I ever going to do this on set? How am I going to hold her, touch her, and kiss her in front of the cameras without revealing exactly how much I want her?

She's obviously as affected as me, and if she doesn't stop putting out the signals she's giving me now, we're definitely going to wind up in bed together. And for the sake of our friendship, I can't allow that to happen. I need to remind her of what's at stake. I'm going to have to tell her about our upcoming romantic storyline. She needs to know what's coming this season, and since we're back in the studio tomorrow, I should probably tell her today. Maybe then she'll stop looking at me as if she wants me to devour her.

Mac stands there waiting for me to close the distance between us, but I don't move in.

I take a deep breath. "There's something I have to tell you; something you need to know."

Ep. 5

❤️Mac❤️

The night's mellow warmth wraps around me as Jazz's Christmas bash gets into full swing. I mentally nod in appreciation to the December evening; it's so mild that I can comfortably flaunt my sultry red dress without needing an extra layer. Jazz's backyard transformation looks like something straight out of a Christmas dream. Music from top-notch speakers fills the air with festive carols, and overhead, a kaleidoscope of lanterns paints stories of Christmas wonder. The rhythm of the evening is infectious. Everywhere I look, people are lost in their groove, their laughter and dance moves testifying to a night well spent.

On the surface, I'm the epitome of holiday cheer – laughing at the right jokes, sipping my drink, and sharing festive anecdotes. My face wears a practiced smile, blending seamlessly with the surrounding merriment. But beneath that veneer, there's a palpable sting of disappointment.

Unintentionally, my gaze shifts to Ryan. He's engrossed in conversation with a blonde wearing a short black skirt and a purple camisole, on the other side of the garden. I've spent the past half-hour trying and failing not to watch them flirt. I could tell myself I don’t care, but that would be a lie. I do care, and I'm struggling to ignore the sharp twinge of irrational jealousy every time I see them together. To add to my frustration, our car ride to Jazz’s was punctuated with awkward silences, which was highly unusual for us. And upon arriving at the party, Ryan promptly disappeared.

Perhaps his absence is a blessing in disguise. Being near him, especially when I'm working so hard to keep my attraction to him hidden, might not be ideal. I vividly recall the memory of how closely we stood in my kitchen... For a fleeting moment, I forgot all my self-imposed rules about leading men being off-limits. I nearly melted into him, silently pleading for a kiss. I can't let myself get lost in such moments. He’s my friend, my co-star, and-

“Mac?”

I snap out of my thoughts, turning to see the man next to me — my date. He's who I should be focusing on. Jazz's choice, Doctor Dale Morgan, is traditionally handsome. He fills out his black shirt and leather jacket, indicating he definitely works out. He has striking blue eyes and dark blonde hair. Over the past two hours, I've discovered he’s articulate, intelligent, and even better, he won over my friends quickly. It’s hardly fair to him, and in no way a reflection on his suitability, that Ryan so effortlessly commands my attention.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I missed that.”

“Don’t mind Maccas,” Brad McDay chimes in, using the nickname he's given me. “She’s always daydreaming about something. Happens on set too.”

“I asked if you wanted another drink,” Dale repeats, pointing to the empty glass in my hand. “You’re running on empty.”

“Thank you,” I reply, offering him a grateful smile. “I’d love another one.”

As Dale takes the glass and departs, Jazz leans in. “Isn’t he perfect?”

“He’s great, Jazz,” I affirm.

"He is. His last girlfriend cheated on him with his cousin. He deserved so much better than that."

I nod, agreeing with Jazz. She set this up, believing we'd be a good match, and so far, I can't find any fault with Dale. I need to work harder at focusing on my date.

“Where’s Moore?” Brad wonders aloud, addressing no one in particular.

“He’s hitting on some girl named Kelly,” Matthew Caffney points out. “They’re over… there.”

I manage to resist the urge to glance in Ryan's direction. Barely.

“Chloe,” Jazz corrects Matt. “Her name is Chloe.”

“Women’s names blur together when you’ve had as many as I’ve had,” Matt jests.

“Or as many as Moore has,” Brad quips, chuckling.

“I swear Ryan gets more-” Matt begins, but Vanessa Rodgers interrupts him with an elbow to the ribs and a stern look.

Vanessa, the quietest among the Hart’s Valley cast, often reins in the guys. They occasionally drift into offensive territory.

“Sorry, Nessie,” Matt says, drawing Vanessa close. “Forgot you were here.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at the recurring joke, but a smile plays on her lips.

“You know I’m right, though,” Matt can't resist adding.

“What happened to the model?” Vanessa inquires about Ryan’s recent ex.

“They broke up,” I reply.

“I know, but why?” she presses.

I shrug. “No idea.”

“He got bored, probably,” Brad offers.

“He got bored?” Vanessa elongates the word 'bored,' sounding slightly disgusted. “They were together for what? A month? Two months?” Vanessa pushes further.

“Variety is the spice of life,” Brad remarks. “I’ve never known Moore to be with anyone longer than three months. That’s his specialty: short, monogamous relationships.”

Brad and Ryan have been friends for a while, having worked together on the series "Wild Horses" a few years back.

“That’s not a need for variety,” Vanessa counters. “That’s a fear of commitment.”

“The Psych Major is out again,” Matt jokes.

Vanessa's pursuing psychology through a well-known online university, and the guys love to tease her about it, particularly when she analyses their behaviour. I've often wondered if Ryan does have commitment issues. It's yet another reason I need to resist my attraction to him. Beyond the professional risks of a relationship with Ryan, I can't realistically expect anything between us to last beyond a few months. Even thinking of a few months is probably overly optimistic.

"You know I’m right," Vanessa echoes, borrowing Matt’s phrase from earlier.

“Ryan’s not a commitment-phobe; he’s just a normal red-blooded male,” Brad jumps to Ryan’s defence.

“You don’t sleep with every woman you meet,” Vanessa points out to Brad.

“Neither does Ryan,” Brad retorts quickly. “He hasn’t slept with any of you.”

“Because he’s not an idiot,” Jazz chimes in. “Sleeping with the people you work with-”

“Is a no-no,” I interject, completing her sentence. “Trust me on that one.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Jazz says, comforting me with a gentle rub on my arm. “Everyone’s done it once.”

“I’ve done it,” Brad admits to me, a confession I've heard from him before.

“I’ve done it too,” Vanessa reveals, her lip caught between her teeth.

Despite all the hours we've spent together, both on and off-set, there’s a lot I don’t know about Vanessa. She's typically reserved about her personal life. Now, as she appears to let her guard down slightly, my curiosity peaks.

“What happened?” I can't help but ask her.

“Ah, I started to fall for him…so I dumped him.”

“You started to fall for him, so you dumped him?” Matt repeats, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I knew I felt more for him than he did for me, so I broke up with him before he could break up with me,” Vanessa clarifies.

“What do they call that in Psychology?” Matt inquires.

“Being a coward,” Vanessa self-deprecates.

“No,” I challenge, coming to her defence. “It’s called self-preservation.”

Reflecting inwardly, I wonder: had I been more observant with Danny, would I have recognized the signs? Could I have escaped before the emotional tumble? Shielded myself from heartbreak? Danny never loved me the way I loved him. Shouldn't I have seen that? No point dwelling on the past. I’ve grown and learned from those mistakes. At least, I think I have. Before I can catch myself, my gaze shifts to Ryan.

The thought of falling for Ryan feels closer to reality than I'd like. Considering my recent thoughts and feelings about him, the idea is disturbingly plausible. This time, though, I clearly see the writing on the wall. Ryan isn't one for permanence and easily grows restless. I can't afford to risk my heart or job over him. Almost as if he's tuned into my thoughts, he suddenly pivots, and our eyes meet. My heart stammers, faltering under the weight of his gaze.

“Are you okay?” I read his lips, as he silently communicates across the distance.

I nod, answering his unspoken question. What would he think if he knew my thoughts just moments ago? Ryan scrutinizes me a moment longer before refocusing on Chloe.

“Sorry I was gone so long.”

Dale's voice interrupts my musings. He'd been away for quite a while, and I hadn't even noticed. So much for my resolve to focus on him. Accepting the drink he extends, I express my gratitude.

“Work called. There was an accident on the Westgate Bridge,” Dale informs me.

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” I say impulsively. Immediately, I realize the inappropriateness of my words. “Sorry,” I apologize. “You’re a doctor. Of course, it must be serious.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he admits. “I’m going to have to go.”

“Oh,” I respond, a tad deflated.

I understand his obligations; after all, he's a doctor and saves lives. Still, this abrupt end to our evening isn't quite what I anticipated.

“Can you get home?” he questions, concern evident in his eyes. “Do you need me to give you a ride?”

I initially arrived here with Ryan, but I'm certain he has other plans tonight than driving me home, especially with that eager blonde around. I don’t want to leave the party so soon, nor burden Dale further, especially when he's urgently needed.

“She can stay here,” Jazz offers, coming to my aid.

“Or I can give her a lift home,” Brad chimes in, casual and unbothered.

“Okay,” Dale says, his relief palpable. “Mac, I’d really like to take you out for a proper first date.”

I offer him a warm smile. “Jazz has my number. Call me sometime.”

“Great. I will,” he assures me, planting a gentle kiss on my cheek before bidding Jazz and our group goodbye.

“So are you going to stay here tonight, or do you want a lift?” Brad asks once Dale leaves.

I glance at the beer in his grip, eyebrows raised slightly.

“I’ll make it my last one,” he assures, seemingly reading my thoughts.

“If you could give me a lift, that would be great.” Jazz’s guest bed is undoubtedly comfortable, but I'm not keen on the idea of staying up till the party winds down.

“No worries. I don’t mind, especially since something seems off with you tonight.”

I thought I concealed my distraction—a distraction born from thoughts of Ryan—well enough. Evidently, I'm mistaken. I just hope others haven’t caught on.

“There isn’t anything up with me,” I assert. “I’m fine.”

“You’re spacey,” Brad observes.

“Spacey?”

“You seem lost in your thoughts.”

“According to you, I’m spacey all the time,” I joke, attempting to divert his concern.

“What I said to your date was all in good fun, Mac. But seriously, is everything okay?”

I nod, reassuring him. “I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

Watching him, I see Brad quickly finish his beer, placing the empty bottle beside him. Before I can protest, he grabs my hand, pulling me towards where the others dance. Brad has long been my 'safe guy'. There's a playful flirtation between us, but it’s harmless. The kisses we shared while acting out our characters' romance last season had been comfortable, straightforward. I doubt it would be the same with Ryan, and I’m incredibly grateful there’s no scripted romance lined up for us anytime soon.

“Come on, Maccas,” Brad encourages. “Let’s dance.”

✯Ryan✯

“Earth to Ryan. Anyone home?”

I can’t pretend to be interested in what Chloe is saying, especially when Mac and Brad are just metres away, practically dry humping each other. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but they are definitely dancing way too close. I want to knock some sense into Brad. He knows Blainesworth’s rules, and he knows about Westlaker devastating Mac’s heart. So what the hell is he doing, dancing with her like that, putting his hands all over her?

And Mac—what is she thinking? Where’s her date, the doctor guy? When I walked in, I saw him – he looked decent enough, the kind of guy you bring home to meet your parents. What will he think when he sees her dancing with another man like that?

For Mac’s sake, I tell myself, I have to put a stop to this. I make an excuse to Chloe, saying I need to talk to someone, and head straight for the dance floor.

“Can I cut in?” I ask.

Ignoring the surprised looks on both their faces, I note Mac’s mouth falling open and her eyes widening. She looks stunned, like a deer caught in headlights. Honestly, I can’t blame Brad for being tempted by Mac tonight. She’s in that killer dress, and I already know she smells like heaven.

Every time I’ve looked at her tonight, desire has surged through me. I’ve been avoiding her since we arrived because of how much she affects me. Yet, I still hadn't been able to resist watching her at every opportunity. Dancing with her now might not be the wisest move, but it seems the only way to put an end to their antics.

Brad hesitates briefly, and I find his reluctance almost too protective, which irks me, but he steps away from Mac. “Where’s the blonde you were with?” he asks.

“Over there somewhere,” I reply. “Could you keep her company for me?”

“No worries. Just a heads up,” Brad says, “Mac’s a bit spacey tonight.”

I shift my focus back to Mac, who’s rolling her eyes at Brad. Is she okay? Has something happened with her date?

“What’s he talking about?” I ask her, our eyes meeting.

“It’s nothing,” she murmurs, glancing down before meeting my gaze again.

She's stunning, her cheeks flushed from dancing, her dark hair framing her face. I step in front of her, placing my hands on her hips. Our bodies seem to align naturally, as if made for one another, as we start dancing.

“Make sure she doesn’t step on your feet, Moore,” Brad comments, patting my shoulder. “And Mac, let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

After ensuring Brad is out of earshot, I ask Mac, “Why do you need to tell Brad when you want to leave?”

“Brad’s driving me home.”

“What are you doing, Mackenzie?”

Before I can catch myself, my tone becomes sharp, a departure from my usual manner with her. She notices my use of her full name, her eyes widening in surprise. If my tone is stern, it’s out of concern for her seemingly erratic behaviour.

“What do you mean, 'what am I doing'?”

“Dancing with Brad like that and letting him drive you home,” I explain. “I just think you should be cautious.”

Her eyes flash defiantly, her cheeks still rosy. “Why should I be cautious, exactly?”

Surely she understands my implication. “Why do you think?” I respond in a measured tone.

“I think you should spell it out for me.”

I’m reluctant to mention Danny’s name; I don’t want to upset her any more than I already have, so I shift the topic. “Where’s your date, Mac?”

“He had to leave.”

“What?” A mix of disappointment and relief floods me.

“There was an emergency—an accident on the Westgate. He had to go.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s a doctor. He got called in.”

“So, the date didn’t work out then?”

“He wants to schedule another first date.”

“Good,” I comment.

“Do I have your approval to leave with Brad?” Her voice is thick with sarcasm.

“No. You don’t.”

Her eyes flash with anger. She attempts to distance herself from me, but I prevent her.

“I’m trying to stop you from making the same mistakes with Brad that you made with Danny,” I explain. Why can't she see my point?

“That’s very noble of you,” she retorts sharply, “but Brad’s not the one I'm likely to repeat those mistakes with.”

Our dance halts. The mortified expression on her face reveals she didn't intend to disclose that. She struggles to pull away again, but my grip on her hips remains firm.

“Who should I be concerned about, Mackenzie?” I press.

“Forget it. It’s nothing. I misspoke.”

I’m not stupid. There’s an attraction—serious chemistry between us—there always has been. Now it’s evident she’s as conscious of the tension as I am. And this dynamic has remained unspoken for so long, her accidental admission is jarring. She might wish she had stayed silent, but the revelation is now in the open and both of us have to deal with it. Ignoring it is no longer an option.

Glancing around, I notice the rest of the main cast—Jazz, Brad, Matt, Vanessa—engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to us. Seizing the moment, I act on impulse: I wrap my arms completely around Mac’s waist and pull her flush against me.

“Dance with me, Mackenzie,” I say, enjoying the way her soft breasts are now pressed against my chest and her hips are perfectly nestled against mine.

“Ryan,” she whispers in a strangled voice as she feels my body respond to hers. My cock grows even harder at the way my name sounds on her lips.

I know I’m being unfair to both of us, but I can’t control my reaction to her. Not tonight. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the strawberry scent of her perfume. The music hits a particular slow note, and we gently sway to the edge of the dance area. No one can see us now.

“We can’t act on this thing,” I whisper against her skin.

“I know,” she chokes out.

“But I want to. I really, really want to,” I say.

I let my lips trail down her neck, feeling her shiver as I do so. When I reach the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat, I kiss it softly, before flicking my tongue over it.

Mac throws her arms around my neck as her knees give out from underneath her. I cup her backside, pulling her more firmly against me. She trembles and clings to me. I can hear her breathing next to my ear, soft, short breaths. I ache with the need to be with her, and the idea of giving in to this thing between us is more tempting than I know how to deal with.

When the song ends, it takes all my willpower to release her and step away from her.

“Well, this is awkward and uncomfortable,” Mac says to me.

My jaw tightens. Mac has her arms wrapped around herself. She looks so dejected, so innocent and vulnerable, that I want to take her back into my arms to comfort her. After I'm done comforting her, I want to take her home and bury myself inside her until she whimpers my name the way she did just moments ago. But where would that lead? To disaster central, that's where. An invisible line has been crossed tonight. Now we need for things to go back to the way they were before. Is that even possible?

“It won’t be for long,” I tell her. “You’ll see. You're going to go on this date with the doctor, and this thing between us will just fade away.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“It will,” I tell her firmly. It has to.

Mac still doesn’t know about next season’s romance between our characters. I had planned to tell her at some point, but now I can't help thinking it's better if she remains in the dark. How will she react when she finds out? Maybe it's best I wait until she's settled into some kind of relationship with the doctor before I casually drop it into a conversation. The fact that the man wants to take her out on a proper first date is a good sign, isn't it?

“Right, well, I’m kind of tired,” Mac says.

“You should get Brad to take you home,” I suggest.

“That’s okay now, is it?” she counters, raising an eyebrow.

Mac would be safer with Brad any day than she would be with me. I'm an idiot for ever thinking differently. I cut in on their dance with the excuse of protecting her, but the ugly truth is, I acted like a jealous, possessive, and overprotective jerk. I’d actually wanted to hit Brad when I saw them dancing together. To say this doesn't bode well for me is an understatement.

“Yeah… about that,” I begin, “I was—”

“Being an idiot?” she interrupts, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I’m sorry,” I admit. Now go before I change my mind and take you home myself.

“I guess I can forgive you. This time,” she teases.

“Goodnight, Mac,” I bid.

“Goodnight, Ryan.”

Ep. 4

✯Ryan✯

“I have to go, Mum.”

I steel myself for the inevitable barrage of sarcasm and guilt headed my way as I prepare to leave. It’s always the same routine. As if on cue, Mum rolls into the hallway with a sour expression on her face.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you’re leaving me alone again–” her voice is high and sharp.

“You’re not alone, Mum,” I cut her off. “Mindy is here.”

I know my sister struggles with some of the more gruelling physical aspects of looking after our mother as her full-time carer, but Mum refuses to let me hire someone else.

“You’re a typical Moore, aren’t you, shirking all responsibilities and leaving a woman to do all the work.”

I rub my temples, trying to remain calm. No matter what I do or don’t do; how often I visit or don’t visit, it’s never enough to please the woman who brought me into this world. Since the day my father walked out on us, Mum hasn’t shown me anything but resentment; not even when I started paying for all of her operations, her medications, and her bills.

“I have to go. I have something on,” I tell her, choosing my words carefully.

“What is it you’re choosing over me? I want to know what’s so much more important than your mother.”

“It’s work-related.”

“You’re a damn liar. I know you’re not on set till January. What kind of son walks out on his sick mother?”

The words are on my lips but I bite my tongue. It wouldn’t do to start another argument with her again. Besides, I’m not lying. Jazz is hosting a Christmas party tonight, and she’s a colleague. Yeah, maybe I’m selfish for leaving my sick mum to go to a party, but spending too much time with her puts me in danger of becoming just like her; angry, resentful, and bitter.

I need to pull myself out from under the black cloud that’s been looming over me since I came back. I want to spend time with people who cares about me and makes me feel good - like my co-stars. Like Mac. Jazz asked me to pick Mac up on the way to the party so I’m heading straight there. It’s been a month or so since the finale aired, but I’m used to seeing her every week, either for coffee or at Jazz’s, when the cast of Hart’s Valley hung out together. Being around her lifts my mood. I need that right now.

“I’ll be back for Christmas. Goodbye, Mum.”

I take a step forward and bend down to kiss my mum’s cheek, then head out the door, trying to ignore the horrible words she’s yelling at me. Why do I even bother?

“Have a safe trip home,” Mindy says as she walks through the back gate, carrying an empty washing basket on her hip. She looks tired and distant.

“I’m sorry, Min,” I say, my heart cracking. “I have to go. I have to get out of here.”

“I know. Thanks for being here this week.”

“I’ll be back in a few days,” I tell her.

She nods. “I’ll cook us a big fat turkey for Christmas, just like Aunty Rita used to make.”

“And I’ll bring the booze.”

“Bring me a few bottles of Taylor’s Cab Sav, will you? I’m going to need it.”

Our mother’s need for a carer coincided with Mindy’s break-up from her long-time boyfriend. I suspect her decision to come back to Morwell was about her trying to escape, rather than deal, but she’s been tight-lipped about the whole thing whenever I’ve tried to talk to her about it. Maybe she’ll wake up one day and decide she’s ready to go back to the city. If that happens, we’ll figure it out. No way am I letting her stay with Mum out of misplaced guilt.

I nod, and she dumps the basket on the ground and hugs me tightly.

“It’s not true, you know, Ry. You’re a great guy; an awesome brother.”

I sigh. “Love you, Min. Take care of yourself.”

“Love you too, little brother. Come home soon.”

By the time I knock on Mac’s apartment door, I’ve managed to shake off most of the guilt from leaving my sister to look after Mum and am looking forward to spending time with my friends.

Mac opens the door wrapped in a large, fluffy white towel and wearing a stunned expression.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you for another half an hour,” she says, stepping back to let me in.

“I made good time.” I lean forward and brush a kiss along her cheek in greeting, and I notice her tense. I quickly step back as I realise she might be uncomfortable, and force my gaze to stay locked on her face and not her towel-clad body.

I notice her eyes sweeping over me, though, and I shift. I dressed up for the party, and from the way her eyes have darkened suddenly, I’m starting to think she likes what she sees.

I swallow hard and clear my throat. “You smell like strawberries,” I blurt.

“It’s, ah, probably the strawberry shampoo and conditioner I used,” she says, twisting a wet tendril around her index finger.

“Well, you should go get dressed,” I say, my gaze dropping to the place where she’s fastened the towel, inwardly cursing myself for my weakness. Especially when her quick intake of air makes her breasts lift slightly.

“Make yourself at home,” she tells me before quickly turning away, practically running for her bedroom.

I take a deep breath and walk into her kitchen to grab a drink. One full glass of water later, I’m feeling slightly more balanced. Until the Dana, one of the writer’s comments on what lies ahead for Brianna and Stone resurface in my mind and I refill the glass. Dana was supposed to tell Mac and I about our future steamy scenes together. Now, I’m left trying to find a way to tell her we have some hot scenes coming up next season. It would be a hell of a lot easier to talk about it if she wasn’t stirring up all these… feelings in me. I’m actually nervous about shooting those scenes with her.

I broke up with my girlfriend a few weeks back, but as much as I want Mac, she’s strictly off limits to me. There is no way I’m going to jeopardise our working relationship, and I care too much about her to ever lead her on. I hope Jazz has invited plenty of single, uncomplicated women to tonight’s party. I’m in serious need of a distraction. Stat.

After downing my second glass of water, I walk into her lounge area and take a seat on the charcoal two-seater couch. Mac’s apartment is small, but she’s made good use of the space. She’s filled the lounge area with a deep red rug on the floor to match the colour of the lightshade above it, and a glass table. A small thirty-two-inch TV stood on a unit in the corner - a far cry from the fifty-six-inch plasma screen at my place. Her photos are displayed on the mantelpiece over an old heater mounted on the wall.

I push off the couch and walk over to take a closer look at the pictures. There’s a photo of her standing with two people. Judging by the resemblance, I’m guessing it’s her mother and father with her, with their farm in the background. There’s also a photo of her in her school uniform, standing with another slight, blonde girl wearing the same uniform. And then there are several photos of her with the cast of Hart’s Valley.

The photo on the end was taken the day we shot the last scene of the finale. Six of us posed for the photo; Brad, Matt, Jazz, Vanessa, me, and Mac. Our arms are wrapped around each other’s waists, and we’re all grinning. We had a lot of happy times this year.

“I love that photo,” she says, coming up behind me.

I turn to face her. “Yeah, I was just remembering–”

I break off, stunned by the vision before me – Mac has poured herself into a short, tight, ruby-red dress, clinging to her like a second skin, and strapped on red high heels, with a Santa hat to top off the outfit. Her long chestnut waves frame her face, accentuating the oval shape of her face, and her sapphire eyes. I thought seeing her in a towel was trying my restraint, but this? There’s even more of her on display now than before. Her lips are painted the same colour as her dress, and she looks like sin on legs.

“Is it too much?” she asks, looking down at herself. Her cheeks are pink as she reaches out with one finger to tug her hair behind her ears.

Well, it’s sure too much for me. My blood pressure soars and my heart rate doubles. The vision of those long, shapely legs wrapped around me while we roll around naked in her bed is so powerful, my cock grows painfully hard and I spin back around under the pretence of looking at her photos again, shoving my hands into my pockets and praying that Mac didn’t notice the rather obvious effect she’s having on me.

“Should I change?” she asks, her voice full of uncertainty. “I have a date.”

“You have a date?”

My voice is hoarse and barely recognizable, but at least I manage to say something.

“He’s a family friend of Jazz’s. It’s the first time she’s been able to set up a meeting.”

Right, the guy Mac mentioned after our Sunshine Mornings interview. Good. Good. She’s moving on. The last thing she needs is another actor like Westlaker in her life.

I turn to face her again, my libido back under control. “Shouldn’t he be picking you up, then? Your date?”

“He was going to, but he doesn’t finish work until nine. I didn’t think you’d mind taking me.”

“I don’t mind,” I tell her. “It’s just…been a really long drive.”

Not because of Mac, though. The two-hour drive from Morwell to her place in the city with my mum’s words and past actions churning in the back of my mind, mixed with anticipation of seeing Mac again, had been long for a different reason.

Mac looks contrite as she says, “I’m sorry. I should have found another ride.”

I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“Can I get you anything?”

I don’t think I can stay in her apartment alone with her much longer and keep my thoughts off her body and lips, so I say, “Nope. I’m all good. But if you’re ready we should go.”

It’s high time I start mingling with some single women I don’t work with.

Mac looks down at her figure-hugging dress again. “I’m not showing too much skin for a first date, am I?”

I shake my head. “You look great.”

She looks better than great. She’s smoking hot, and I have no doubt her outfit will have the same effect on every red-blooded male at the party as it has on me. My hands curl into fists at my sides.

“Phew,” she says and heads for the kitchen. “I just need to grab Jazz’s bottle of Cointreau and we can get this show on the road.”

I shake out my hands and loosen my shoulders as I follow her.

“I know I put the bottle up here somewhere.”

Okay, this is so not fair. Mac reaching into a cupboard above her head is giving me a stellar view of her arse as the stretchy material of her dress rides up the backs of her thighs. I yank my gaze upwards and spot the Cointreau, just out of her reach.

I walk over and grab the bottle for her. She turns, bringing her all too close. The scent of strawberries hits me straight in the gut, inviting me to taste. There’s a hitch in her breathing and her eyes drop to my mouth. Our lips are mere inches apart. All it would take is for either one of us to lean in, and…

I stumble backwards, putting some much-needed distance between us.

Mac blinks repeatedly, as if trying to shake herself out of the moment we just shared, then walks out of the kitchen, giving me a wide berth.

“I’ll just grab my bag, and we can go.”

I curse under my breath as Mac heads to her bedroom – a place where I dare not follow. I’m in big trouble here. I could swear she was waiting for me to kiss her just now. Fuck. She’s not supposed to want me to kiss her.

I rub my temples in frustration. I need to stop having these thoughts about Mac. She’s finally ready to move on from her jerk of an ex, and the last thing she needs is someone like me.

Ep. 3