to use tongue on-screen. It was weird, and kind of jarring. There was already too much to think about without bringing tongues and saliva into it. What had Jasmine’s experiences been? She must have had plenty of on-screen kisses. It was too late to ask her, however. They were getting ready to begin.
While Marquita and Ilba discussed something in the script, Vera took Ashton aside.
“Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with?” she asked in a low voice. “Doing or receiving. Or anywhere you’d prefer not to be touched?”
It was the first time anyone had asked him that. He’d thought to ask some of his female costars in the past, but it wasn’t something the production team usually took into account, especially for a male actor. Everyone had always assumed he was perfectly comfortable touching women he didn’t know, or being touched by them.
When he didn’t answer right away, Vera gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ve done my research. I know you’re a pro. But still, if there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable, or you don’t want to do, please tell me. This is a safe space for you too.”
“Um, thank you,” he said, not sure what else to say. In truth, he didn’t mind being touched within the context of a scene. He certainly didn’t mind the thought of Jasmine touching him, although having an audience changed the dynamic significantly. But he liked that Vera had thought to ask. “I just want to make sure she—Jasmine—is comfortable.”
“I want that too.” Vera left him to go speak to Jasmine. While they talked, Jasmine’s gaze lifted and caught Ashton’s across the set. She said something to Vera and gave a little shake of her head. He would have given anything to hear what she was saying, but then again, maybe he was better off not knowing.
And then . . . there was nothing more to do but rehearse the kiss.
Ilba handled the first part. “You’ll both be standing here,” she said, pointing. “Working together at the kitchen island, cooking a meal.”
“Will we have food on our hands?” Jasmine asked, sounding dubious as she joined Ashton at the counter.
Marquita and Ilba exchanged a look, and the showrunner shook her head.
“No, it’s not a messy make-out session,” Marquita said. “You’re admiring the plated dishes.”
“What does the script say?” Ilba asked, flipping pages.
“‘They kiss,’” Jasmine and Ashton replied in unison. He caught her eye, then looked away. It was something he’d noticed while memorizing his lines. No stage direction except They kiss. There was a world of possibility in those two little words.
Vera reviewed her own copy. “Okay, Carmen’s mother gets a phone call, says, ‘It’s Tía Jimena. Un momentito,’ then leaves the room. Carmen rolls her eyes and says—”
Jasmine spoke her line right on cue. “She’ll be gone an hour.”
“This is where Victor takes the opportunity to move a little closer,” Ilba said.
Ashton sidled closer to Jasmine, but Vera shook her head.
“Ashton, let’s have you be a little smoother. What if you do it like this?” Vera stood next to Ashton, mimicking his pose—right hip leaning on the counter, head turned toward Jasmine, who was to his left.
“Instead of just leaning down, how about you . . .” Vera slid her hip along the edge of the counter toward Ashton. In one smooth move, she shifted closer, her body now facing his, and she’d never dropped eye contact.
Ashton nodded, impressed. “I can do that.”
He tried it a few times until the move was as easy as breathing.
“What should I do?” Jasmine asked.
“Can you lean your elbows on the counter?” Ilba suggested. When Jasmine had to lean down too far, Marquita shook her head.
“You’re too tall,” the showrunner said. “Take off your shoes. We’ll get you chancletas to wear during the shoot.”
Jasmine kicked off her platform sandals and repeated the casual pose. The other women nodded.
“This is the lead in to the moment that becomes a kiss,” Vera explained. “Your characters are both very comfortable right now. Their defenses are down, and they’re remembering what they like about each other. Ashton, start with the slide, getting as close to Jasmine as you can without knocking her over. You’re opening up your body to her, but subtly, not overwhelmingly.”
“What do I do with my arms?” he asked.
They explored a few options—hands on the counter, in his pockets, on his hips—and settled on having him cross his arms as he turned toward Jasmine. But he was instructed to make it look “relaxed, not defensive.”