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It wasn’t a question of if he would like it. He had told her he could never hate anything that allowed him to see her as she was meant to be seen onscreen. She was more proud of this film than anything she’d ever done, and she knew she’d done her best work so far. Maybe she was feeling too confident as she drove him to the private screening with Walter and the few cast members who could make it. Doubts crept in despite his constant faith in her abilities. What would he think.
What is he thinking. Kristen’s leg started to shake as she wondered and fought the impulse to watch Rob instead of Marylou tempting Sal into a threesome with Dean. He was so quiet. Too quiet. A few times she wondered if he was still beside her. She kept her sight squarely on the screen, her leg still doing a jitterbug on its own. If it weren’t for his hand suddenly on her thigh and the added caress of his thumb, she would’ve kept at it, but she stilled and let out deep breath. She smirked to herself when she heard him softly laugh at Carlo and Marylou mock each other’s mad obsession with Dean, knowing all too well he was remembering Kristen and Tom’s mad obsession while preparing for the film.
She didn’t shift her focus again until the final beat of the last line. She couldn’t imagine a more perfect adaptation of her favorite book, and she shook her head a little as if to clear it. When she looked at Rob, she couldn’t help mirroring his grin.
“You’re perfect.”