Theo

I still can’t find my mojo

 

For whatever reason, Joey seems reluctant to take my compliments about her sexiness.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve lost my touch and I just suck at it because I’ve been traumatized by my ex. I’ll have to work on upping my game.

After we’d finished dinner, we sat on the couch and opened our scripts, turning it to the beginning of the third act. This is where the tension levels between Silvia and Chester have been brewing and it finally comes to a head and they end up kissing.

Which is exactly what I want to practice with Joey.

I’ve wanted to taste those lips for a week, but I’m so out of practice that I keep wimping out. But tonight’s plan is to ensure it comes to fruition. Even if I have to do it in an underhanded deceitful fashion.

Even if I won’t be acting when we finally hit that scene.

“Do you think you’re giving me special treatment?” Joey asks as she skims through the lines on the pages before looking up and giving me a look of concern.

“How so?”

She shifts her position. “Well, duh. I’m getting to practice my lines with the director and guy who wrote the play. If that isn’t a leg up on the competition, I don’t know what is.”

I nod and wink. “I see your point. I guess you’ll have to knock me dead with your amazing natural talent so no one questions my decisions.”

Joey huffs out a breath. “Great, I’m going to be viewed as teacher’s pet. No one likes those people.”

She scrunches her nose and I want to lean over and kiss every cute freckle sprinkled there. But I hold back.

Again.

“It’s a good thing than that Birdie is also helping with the casting, so it won’t be biased.”

“That’s even worse. I think that woman has it out for me.”

I laugh, but it might be true. I’ve seen with my own two eyes the dirty looks Birdie gives to Joey. I’m guessing it might be out of jealousy.

Birdie has on occasion tried enticing me back to her place to “go over the play”. I’ve always politely turned her down because I know it’s just code for wanting to fuck. But she does nothing for me. I’m not interested in her in the slightest, especially not when my attention is on Joey.

“Don’t be silly,” I wave her off and grab my wine glass, taking a big swig of it. Letting the warmth filter through my system. Filling me up with the liquid courage.

Joey’s gaze assesses me, as if she’s trying to figure me out. She tips her head from one shoulder to the other, pursing her lips in thought. And then as if she’s come to some kind of resolution, she heaves a sigh.

“Whatever. She gives me the stink eye whenever you ask me to read. She seems kind of territorial and possessive.”

Shrugging off her intuition, I redirect the conversation to the play.

“Well, she’s barking up the wrong tree.”

“Exactly,” she says, lifting and pointing her index finger at me.

I raise my brows at the emphatic tone she uses.

“I guess we’ll just have to show Birdie how spectacular you are, then. Let’s start on Act Three Scene Two, where Chester is out in the yard. Ready?”

She gives me the thumbs up and finds the scene I’m referring to. I get a thrill knowing what’s coming up.

And I was completely serious about her abilities. She is a natural, just like I knew she would be. Her style is easy, she’s great at reading and expressing emotion and takes direction without hesitation. Unlike some of the other students in my class.

Proctor, especially. That man thinks he knows everything under God’s green earth and is exactly the type of actor who will crash and burn on stage because he’s too confident. Once these types get on stage, they develop stage fright and everything they think they know flies out the window and fear takes over, leaving them paralyzed and ready to vomit. Either that, or they become self-absorbed assholes that nobody wants to work with.

In the acting profession, they are what’s known as a diva.

We have seven principle cast members to cast for this play and right now, I only have three in mind for the leads. Myself as Chester, Joey as Silvia and Marlon as Henry, the old man. Which I think is a hilarious casting choice, because Marlon looks like a kid and it’s ironic.

I’m confident that we’ll fill the needed roles for the play from those who are interested in acting in the live performance. And for those we don’t, they’ll work behind the scenes with our set designers and techs, sound designer and costume/wardrobe designers. Thankfully, Niles provided us with a decent budget to cover all the additional expenses.

And once we select the actors and get started on rehearsals, it’ll be a short four weeks in preparation before opening night. Which is always the most nerve-wracking but exhilarating time for an actor and director/playwright.

One could say it’s nearly as exciting as losing your virginity.

Almost.

Or the anticipation of the first kiss with a woman.

Joey clears her throat after silently reading through the scene and I know when she finally comes to the point in the play where she sees it. Then her eyes find mine and she blinks.

“Are we…um, so this scene…are we doing everything?”

I bite back the laughter that’s bubbling up, but I tamp it back down in my throat.

“Uh-huh. That’s the plan.”

The heat of embarrassment floods her face in a bright array of pink.

“I’ve never…”

I interrupt her, hoping to put her at ease. “I know. It’s okay. I’ll walk you through it. Are you uncomfortable with the idea of kissing me?”

I don’t realize I’m holding in my breath until she responds and it feels like a burst of air is expelled from my chest in a whoosh.

“Of course not,” she counters, sitting up straighter as I toss her a smile. “If you’re okay with it, then I am, too.”

“Okay then. Let’s do it. You go first.”

Joey collects herself and I see she draws herself into the character as her face goes blank for a moment, her chest lifting visibly as she sucks in some air and then lets it go.

“Chester, you know you’re overwatering those roses, right?”

“Must you always be such a know-it-all, Silvia? You’re always in my business.”

“Well I wouldn’t need to be in your business if your rose bushes weren’t on my property line.”

“Maybe you should worry about your own bush, Miss Know-it-all.”

Pause for laughter.

“What would you like me to do, your majesty? Pull them all out and replant them elsewhere?”

Joey’s voice grows louder, clearly emphasizing her character’s irritation over her neighbor’s surly attitude.

I shift closer to her on the couch, leaving little room between us, readying myself for the kiss. Hoping to leave her breathless and wanting more. Script or no script.

“Oh, you’re such a monster! Such an irksome beast.”

And now we’re at the point in the scene where it describes the character Chester throwing down the watering can, grabbing Silvia by the shoulders, and crushing his mouth to hers.

Joey breaks character and giggles. But I don’t let it deter me or throw me out of character. I do exactly as the script outlines.

My mouth is so hungry for her lips, I devour her. I swallow her gasp as I conform my lips with hers, my tongue sweeping in and seeking hers. My kiss is wet, hot and in need of confirmation. Knowledge that she wants this as much as I do. That she feels the same pull of attraction and is itching for something to happen.

I tug her to me, so that our chests touch. The sound of her script fluttering to the floor is barely noticed as the noise of my heartbeat floods my own ears. Nothing else matters in this moment except ensuring Joey is properly kissed.

She’s stiff for only a moment and then I feel her body relax and unwind under my grasp. I hold on tight, for fear she’ll move away and break the connection. One hand slowly migrates up her arm, to the curve of her neck where I find goosebumps. And then I palm the back of her head, my fingers sifting through her soft curls.

I groan. She sighs.

Joey tastes of summertime. Cool breeziness with a hint of warmth from the wine lingering on her breath, and it gets me hard.

I mean, hard, hard.

Hard enough that I’ll probably embarrass myself if this goes on much longer.

Hoping to avoid any unnecessary mess, and with the force of effort that feels like I’ve summoned a Hercules-like strength, I pull myself back and stare at Joey’s gorgeous face.

Her lips are dewy and rosy, a little swollen and wet, and it sends my heart into my throat knowing I did that to her. The wispy, long lashes of her eyes fan out as her cheeks bloom with heat.

And as I gaze down at her chest, I see the same shade of pink across the tops of her breasts, which are displayed spectacularly in the V-neck t-shirt she wears.

When her eyes pop open, I see a mixture of heat, surprise and bewilderment in her emerald irises.

“Wow,” she blurts, her voice a little raspy. “You’re really good at that.”

Her fingers touch her lips, smoothing over the canvas that I just laid my mouth on.

I’m not sure how to respond to that. She says it like she’s surprised I’m a good kisser.

“Thanks. So are you. How do you feel?”

Her eyes dart away from mine like she’s guilty of something, but I don’t know why.

“I mean, it being your first “actors kiss,” and all, I’m curious if it’s any different from how you’d normally feel.”

I’m putting her on the spot and digging to see if she feels any of the same connection that I do. But instead of answering, she jumps up off the couch like it’s on fire, scaring Woody who is snoozing at her feet.

He lifts his head and his ears pop up before he gets up to walk off toward the kitchen, where he plops himself down again on the floor, groaning from the interruption.

Joey stands at the counter, fidgeting with her t-shirt, obviously anxious over this situation I’ve put her in.

Shit, I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable.

“So, uh, I hate to end our session early, but I should probably hit the sack and get some rest if I’m going to be prepared for tomorrow’s auditions.”

I look at the clock on her microwave and it’s nine-forty p.m. She’s trying to get rid of me.

So much for making my move. I just crashed-and-burned even pretending to kiss her. I can’t imagine what it would be like if it was the real thing and not hidden under the guise of acting.

Picking up her discarded script off the floor, I hand it over to her. She takes it and holds it tight to her chest in a protective manner. I stand and shift on my feet.

“Yeah, sure. No problem. I’ll take Woody out for a walk and then see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Yep, uh-huh. Okay. That sounds good.”

Joey ushers us out the door before I can even say goodnight.

Well, Christ on a cracker.

I really have lost my mojo.