LOSING IT

Cora Carmack

 

 

LOSING IT

Copyright © 2012 by Cora Carmack.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 978-0-9883935-0-9

 

 

 

 

For Lindsay

My first reader.

Thank you for all the times you’ve listened to me vent.

You’ve heard every mortifying story.

You’ve been there through the awkward, the hilarious, and the near death experiences.

Stone love.

 

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One

I took a deep breath.

You are awesome. I didn’t quite believe it so I thought it again. Awesome. You are so awesome.

If my mother heard my thoughts, she’d tell me that I needed to be humble, but humility had gotten me nowhere.

Bliss Edwards, you are a freaking catch.

So then how did I end up twenty-two years old, and the only person I knew who had never had sex? Somewhere between Saved by the Bell and Gossip Girl, it became unheard of for a girl to graduate college with her V-Card still in hand. And now I was standing in my room, regretting that I’d gathered the courage to admit it to my friend Kelsey. She reacted like I’d just told her I was hiding a tail underneath my A-line skirt. And I knew before her jaw even finished dropping that this was a terrible idea.

“SERIOUSLY? Is it because of Jesus? Are you, like, saving yourself for him?” Sex seemed simpler for Kelsey. She had the body of a Barbie and the sexually-charged brain of a teenage boy.

“No, Kelsey,” I said. “It would be a little difficult to save myself for someone who died over two thousand years ago.”

Kelsey whipped off her shirt and threw it on the floor. I must have made a face because she looked at me and laughed.

“Relax, Princess Purity, I’m just changing shirts.” She stepped into my closet and started flipping through my clothes.

“Why?”

“Because, Bliss, we’re going out to get you laid.” She said the word ‘laid’ with a curl of her tongue that reminded me of those late night commercials for those adult phone lines.

“Jesus, Kelsey.”

She pulled out a shirt that was snug on me, and would be downright scandalous on her curvy frame.

“What? You said it wasn’t about him.”

I resisted the urge to slam my palm into my forehead.

“It’s not, I don’t think… I mean, I go to church and all, well, sometimes. I just… I don’t know. I’ve never been that interested.”

She paused with her new shirt halfway over her head.

“Never interested? In guys? Are you gay?”

I once overheard my mother, who couldn’t understand why I was about to graduate college without a ring on my finger, ask my father the same question.

“No Kelsey, I’m not gay, so keep putting your shirt on. No need to fall on your sexual sword for me.”

“If you’re not gay and it’s not about Jesus, then it’s just a matter of finding the right guy, or should I say… the right sexual sword.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee? Is that all? Find the right guy? Why didn’t someone tell me sooner?”

She pulled her blonde hair back into a high ponytail, which somehow drew even more attention to her chest. “I don’t mean the right guy to marry, honey. I mean the right guy to get your blood pumping. To make you turn off your analytical, judgmental, hyperactive brain and think with your body instead. “

“Bodies can’t think.”

“SEE!” She said. “Analytical. Judgmental.”

“Fine! Fine. Which bar tonight?”

“Stumble Inn, of course.”

I groaned. “Classy.”

“What?” Kelsey looked at me like I was missing the answer to a really obvious question. “It’s a good bar. More importantly, it’s a bar that guys like. And since we do like guys, it’s a bar we like.”

It could be worse. She could be taking me to a club.

“Fine. Let’s go.” I stood, and headed for the curtain that separated my bedroom from the rest of my loft apartment.

“WHOA! Whoa.” She grabbed my elbow and pulled me so hard that I fell back on my bed. “You can’t go like that. “

I looked down at my outfit—flowery A-line skirt and simple tank that showed a decent amount of cleavage. I looked cute. I could totally pick up a guy in this… maybe.

“I don’t see the problem,” I said.

She rolled her eyes, and I felt like a child. I hated feeling like a child, and I pretty much always did when talk turned to sex.

Kelsey said, “Honey, right now you look like someone’s adorable little sister. No guy wants to screw his little sister. And if he does, you don’t want to be near him.”

Yep, definitely felt like a child. “Point taken.”

“Hmm… sounds like you’re practicing turning off that overactive brain of yours. Good job. Now stand there and let me work my magic.”

And by magic, she meant torture.

After vetoing three shirts that made me feel like a prostitute, some pants that were more like leggings, and a skirt so short it threatened to show the world my hoo-hoo in the event of a mild breeze, we settled on some tight low-rise denim capris, and a lacy black tank that stood out in contrast to my pale white skin.

“Legs shaved?”

I nodded.

“Other… things… shaved?”

“As much as they are ever going to be yes, now move on.” That was where I drew the line of this conversation.

She grinned, but didn’t argue. “Fine. Fine. Condoms?”

“In my purse.”

“Brain?”

“Turned off. Or well… dialed down, anyway.”

“Excellent. I think we’re ready.”

I wasn’t ready. Not at all.

There was a reason I hadn’t had sex yet, and now I knew it. I was a control freak. It was why I had done so well in school my entire life. It made me a great stage manager—no one could run a theatre rehearsal like I could. And when I did get up the nerve to act—I was always more prepared than any other actor in class. But sex… that was the opposite of control. There were emotions, and attraction, and that pesky other person that just had to be involved. Not my idea of fun.

“You’re thinking too much,” Kelsey said.

“Better than not thinking enough.”

“Not tonight it’s not,” she said.

I turned up the volume of Kelsey’s IPod as soon as we got in the car so that I could think in peace.

I could do this. It was just a problem that needed to be solved, an item that needed to be checked off my to-do list.

It was that simple.

Simple.

Keep it simple.

We pulled up outside the bar several minutes later, and the night felt anything, but simple. My pants felt too tight, my shirt too low-cut, and my brain too clouded. I wanted to throw up.

I didn’t want to be a virgin. That much I knew. I didn’t want to feel like the immature prude who knew nothing about sex. I hated not knowing things. The trouble was… as much as I didn’t want to be a virgin, I also didn’t want to have sex.

The conundrum of all conundrums. Why couldn’t this be one of those square is a rectangle, but rectangle is not always a square kind of things?

Kelsey was standing outside my door, her high-heeled shoes snapping in time with her fingers as she roused me out of the car. I squared my shoulders, tossed my hair (half-heartedly), and followed Kelsey into the bar.

I made a beeline straight to the bar, wiggled myself onto a stool, and waved down the bartender.

He was a possibility. Blond hair, average build, nice face. Nothing special, but certainly not out of the question. He could be good for simple.

“What can I get for y’all, ladies?”

Southern accent. Definitely a homegrown kind of boy.

Kelsey butted in, “We need two shots of tequila to start.”

“Make it four,” I croaked.

He whistled, and his eyes met mine. “That kinda night, huh?”

I wasn’t ready to put into words what kind of night this was. So I just said, “I’m looking for some liquid courage.”

“And I’d be glad to help.” He winked at me, and he was barely out of earshot before Kelsey bounced in her seat, saying, “He’s the one! He’s the one!”

Her words made me feel like I was on a roller coaster, like the world had just dropped and all my organs were playing catch up. I just needed more time to adjust. That’s it. I grabbed Kelsey’s shoulder, and forced her to still. “Chill, Kels. You’re like a freaking Chihuahua.”

“What? He’s a good choice. Cute. Nice. And I totally saw him glance at your cleavage… TWICE.”

She wasn’t wrong. But I still wasn’t all that interested in sleeping with him, which I suppose didn’t have to rule him out, but this sure would be a hell of a lot easier if I was actually interested in the guy. I said, “I’m not sure… there’s just no spark.” I could see an eye roll coming, so I tagged on a quick, “Yet!”

When Bartender Boy returned with our drinks, Kelsey paid, and I took my two shots before she even handed over her card. He stayed for a moment, smiling at me, before moving on to another customer. I stole one of Kelsey’s remaining shots.

“You’re lucky this is a big night for you, Bliss. Normally, nobody gets between me and my tequila.”

I held my hand out and said, “Well, nobody will get between these legs unless I’m good and drunk so hand me the last one.”

Kelsey shook her head, but she was smiling. After a few seconds, she gave in, and with four shots of tequila in my system the prospect of sex seemed a little less scary.

Another bartender came by, this one a girl, and I ordered a Jack and coke to sip on while I puzzled through this whole mess.

There was Bartender Boy, but he wouldn’t get off until well after 2 A.M. I was a nervous wreck already, so if this dragged on till the wee hours of the morning, I’d be completely psychotic. I could just imagine it… straight-jacketed due to sex.

There was a guy standing next to me who seemed to move several inches closer with every drink I took, but he had to be at least forty. No, thank you.

I gulped down more of my drink, thankful the bartender went heavy on the Jack, and scanned the bar.

“What about him?” Kelsey asked, pointing to a guy at a nearby table.

“Too preppy.”

“Him?”

“Too Hipster.”

“Over there?”

“Ew. Too hairy.”

The list continued until I was pretty sure this night was a bust. Kelsey suggested we hit another bar, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I told her I had to go to the bathroom, and hoped someone would catch her eye while I was gone so that I could slip away with no drama. The bathroom was at the back, past the pool and darts area, behind a section with some small round tables.

That was when I noticed him.

Well, technically, I noticed the book first.

And I just couldn’t keep my mouth closed. “If that’s supposed to be a way to pick up girls, I would suggest moving to an area with a little more traffic.”

He looked up from his reading, and suddenly I found it hard to swallow. He was easily the most attractive guy I’d seen tonight—blond hair falling into crystal blue eyes, just enough scruff on his jaw to give him a masculine look without making him too hairy, and a face that could have made angels sing. It wasn’t making me sing. It was making me gawk. Why did I stop? Why did I always have to make an idiot of myself?

“Excuse me?”

My mind was still processing his perfect hair and bright blue eyes, so it took me a second to say, “Shakespeare. No one reads Shakespeare in a bar unless it’s a ploy to pick up girls. All I’m saying is you might have better luck up front.”

He didn’t say anything for a long beat, but then his mouth split in a grin revealing, what do you know, perfect teeth!

“It’s not a ploy, but if it were, it seems to me that I’m having great luck right here.”

An accent. HE HAD A BRITISH ACCENT. Dear God, I was dying.

Breathe. I needed to breathe.

Don’t lose it, Bliss.

He put his book down, but not before marking his place. My God, he was really reading Shakespeare in a bar.

“You’re not trying to pick up a girl?”

“I wasn’t.”

My analytical brain did not miss his use of the past tense. As in… he hadn’t been trying to seduce anyone before, but perhaps he was now.

I took another look at him. He was grinning now—white teeth, jaw stubble that made him look downright delectable. Yep, I was definitely seducible. And that thought alone was enough to send me into shock.

“What’s your name, love?”

Love? LOVE! Still dying, here.

“Bliss.”

“Is that a line?”

I blushed crimson. “No, it’s my name.”

“Lovely name for a lovely girl.” The timbre of his voice went into that low register that made my insides curl in on themselves—it was like my uterus was tapping out a happy dance on the rest of my organs. God, I was dying the longest, most tortuous, and arousing death in the history of the world. Was this what it always felt like to be turned on? No wonder sex made people do crazy things.

“Well, Bliss, I’m new in town, and I’ve already locked myself out of my apartment. I’m waiting on a locksmith, actually, and I figured I’d put this spare time to good use.”

“By brushing up on your Shakespeare?”

“Trying to, anyway. Honestly, I’ve never liked the bloke all that much, but let’s keep that a secret between us, yeah?”

I was pretty sure my cheeks were still stained red, if the heat coming off of them was any indication. In fact, my whole body felt like it was on fire. I wasn’t sure whether it was mortification or his accent that had me about to spontaneously combust in front of him.

“You look disappointed, Bliss. Are you a Shakespeare fan?”

I nodded, because my throat might have been closing up.

He wrinkled his nose in response, and my hands itched to follow the line of his nose down to his lips.

I was going crazy. Actually, certifiably insane.

“Don’t tell me you’re a Romeo and Juliet fan?”

Now, this. This was something I could discuss.

“Othello, actually. That’s my favorite.”

“Ah. Fair Desdemona. Loyal and Pure.”

My heart stuttered at the word pure.

“I, um,” I struggled to piece together my thoughts. “I like the juxtaposition of reason and passion.”

“I’m a fan of passion, myself.” His eyes dipped down then, and ran the length of my form. My spine tingled until it felt like it might burst out of my skin.

“You haven’t asked me my name,” he said.

I cleared my throat. This couldn’t be attractive. I was about as sociable as a caveman. I asked, “What’s your name?”

He tilted his head, and his hair almost covered his eyes.

“Join me, and I’ll tell you.”

I didn’t think about anything other than the fact that my legs were like Jell-O, and sitting down would prevent me from doing something embarrassing like passing out from the influx of hormones that were quite clearly having a free for all in my brain. I sank into the chair, but instead of relief, the tension ratcheted up another notch.

He spoke, and my eyes snagged on his lips. “My name is Garrick.”

Who knew names could be hot, too?

“It’s nice to meet you, Garrick.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, and I noticed his broad shoulders, and the way his muscles moved beneath the fabric of his shirt. Then our eyes connected, and the bar around us went from dim to dark, while I was ensnared by those baby blues.

“I’m going to buy you a drink.” It wasn’t meant to be a question. In fact, when he looked at me, there was nothing questioning in him at all, only confidence. “Then we can chat some more about reason and… passion.”

 

Chapter Two

I couldn’t tell whether the burning sensation in my chest had to do with the hooded look Garrick was giving me or the remainder of my first Jack and Coke that I just downed like it was water.

A waiter arrived at Garrick’s beckoning, and I took a moment to give myself a silent pep talk while he ordered himself a drink.

“Bliss?” Garrick prompted.

His voice sent shivers through me.

I looked up at him, then at the waiter, who happened to be Bartender Boy from earlier. I opened my mouth to ask for another Jack and Coke, but Bartender Boy stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “I remember—Jack and Coke, right?”

I nodded, and he threw me a wink and a smile. I paused wondering for a second how he knew my order. I was pretty sure the girl bartender had served me last. He was still smiling at me, so I forced myself to speak. “Thanks, um…”

“Brandon,” he supplied.

“Thanks Brandon.”

He glanced at Garrick, and then focused back on me.

“Should I tell your friend up front that you’ll be right back?”

“Oh, um, sure, I guess.”

He smiled in response, and stayed there staring at me for a few seconds before he turned to head back to the bar. I knew I had to look at Garrick again, but I was terrified I’d melt into a puddle of arousal and awkwardness if I met his gorgeous eyes again.

He said, “You know, sometimes I wonder if Desdemona was as innocent as she let on. Maybe she knew the effect she had on guys, and enjoyed making them jealous.”

I met his eyes then, and they were narrowed, studying me.

I swallowed my nerves and studied him back.

“Or maybe she was just intimidated by Othello’s intensity and didn’t know how to talk to him. Communication is key after all.”

“Communication, eh?”

“It could have solved a lot of their problems.”

“In that case, I’ll endeavor to be as clear as possible.” He picked up his chair and placed it mere inches from mine. He slinked down beside me and said, “I’d rather you didn’t go back to your friend. Stay here with me.”

Swallow, Bliss. I told myself, you have to swallow or you might start drooling.

“Well, my friend is waiting. What will we do if I stay?”

He reached out a hand and pushed my hair over my shoulder. His hand skimmed across my neck, pausing at my pulse point, which must have been going crazy.

“We can talk Shakespeare. We can talk about anything you want. Though I can’t promise not to get distracted by your lovely neck.” His fingers traveled across my jaw, until they reached my chin, which he pulled forward slightly with the pressure of his index finger. “Or your lips. Or those eyes. I could woo you with stories about my life, like Othello does Desdemona.”

I was already sufficiently wooed. My reply was embarrassingly breathy, “I’d rather not parallel our evening with a couple who ended with a murder/suicide.”

He grinned, and his finger dropped from my chin. My skin burned where he had touched me, and I had to stop myself from leaning forward to follow his touch.

“Touché. I don’t care what we do as long as you stay.”

“Okay.” I was immensely proud that I managed a calm reply instead of the Dear God, yes, I’ll do whatever you ask that was currently running through my mind.

“Maybe I should lock myself out my apartment more often.”

I’d prefer we locked ourselves in, actually.

My pocket started vibrating, and I rushed to answer my phone before my embarrassing boy band ringtone came on.

“Yes?”

“Did you fall in or what?”

It was Kelsey.

“No, Kelsey, I didn’t. Listen, why don’t you just head home without me.”

Garrick’s eyes darkened, and my breath hitched as his gaze dropped to my lips.

“You are not getting out of this, Bliss. You are getting laid tonight if I have to do it myself. “

God, could she be any louder? I thought that Garrick had to have heard, but his eyes never left my lips.

“That won’t be necessary, Kels.”

I tried to think of a cryptic way to tell her that I’d already found my guy, when I heard an intake of breath followed by “OH. MY. GOD.”

I glanced over Garrick’s shoulder in time to see Kelsey’s grin widen, and the crude hand gesture that followed.

“Yeah, okay, so I’ll talk to you later, Kels?”

“You most certainly will. You’ll call and tell me every drop dead gorgeous detail.”

“We’ll see.”

“ You better do a lot of seeing tonight, honey. I expect your eyes to be fully opened after this evening’s encounter.”

I hung up without a reply.

“Your friend?” he asked.

I nodded, because his stare currently had my blood boiling. Never in my life had I felt so completely turned on by someone who was not even touching me. Sex rolled off the man in waves, and I was surprised to find how interested I was in learning how to swim.

“You’re staying?”

I nodded again, every muscle in my body drawn taut. If he didn’t kiss me soon, I was going to explode. Just when I thought he might, Bartender Boy returned with our drinks. He came up with a smile, which dropped upon seeing how close Garrick and I were.

“Sorry it took so long. We’re swamped up front.”

I latched on to the distraction.

“It’s no problem, Brandon.”

“Sure. You need anything else?”

“No, I’m good.”

Brandon’s eyes flicked to Garrick, and then he leaned a little closer to me.

“You sure?

“We’re sure,” Garrick tagged on curtly before handing him a few bills. “Keep the change.”

Brandon checked on one more couple that was a few tables away, and then he left for the front of the bar again. When he was out of earshot, I turned back to Garrick. I noticed his arm had made its way around my chair.

“Are you the jealous type, Garrick?”

“Not really.”

I raised an eyebrow, and he smiled unabashedly.

He said, “Maybe this discussion of Othello has set me a bit on edge.”

“Then let’s talk about something else. What time did the locksmith say he’d be around to your apartment?”

He glanced briefly at his watch, and I took the chance to eye the incredible build of his arms. “He should be there fairly soon.”

“Should you go and wait for him?” It was hard to pinpoint exactly what I wanted in that moment. I definitely liked him, and I definitely wanted him to kiss me, but I was so used to sabotaging things like this so that they never got too far. I was always searching for a backdoor, the way out.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

I took a breath. No backing out. No backdoors, not this time. I bit my lip, and looked at him. I hoped he couldn’t read the fear thrumming beneath my confident façade. I said, “I guess, we could go and wait for him.”

He looked at my lips again. Dying… I was dying for him to kiss me.

“Much better.”

He stood and offered me his arm. “My lady?”

“You don’t want to finish our drinks?”

He took my hand, and pressed his lips against the inside of my wrist. “I’m already intoxicated.”

I laughed, because the line was ridiculous (and because I didn’t want to admit that it still worked).

He grinned. “Too far? What can I say… the Bard gives me a flair for the dramatic.”

“Let’s try for some realism instead.”

He said, “I think I can do that.”

I’d barely processed his words before he’d pulled me up from the chair and covered my mouth with his own. His scent overwhelmed me—citrus and leather and something else that made my mouth water. I was almost too shocked to react. I was acutely aware of the fact that he was kissing me in the middle of a bar, until he nipped at my bottom lip. Then I forgot about everything but him. My whole body shuddered, and my heart dropped toward my stomach like the force of gravity had doubled. My head was swimming, but I didn’t care. I opened my mouth, and immediately his tongue swept in, taking control. My hands clutched at his back, and in response, he pulled me closer. His kiss was slow and then fast, tender then punishing. We were pressed together so tightly that I could feel every plane of his body, but still I wanted to be closer. His hand slid up the back of my shirt—hot fingers pressed into my already over-heated flesh. A moan escaped my mouth at the intimate contact. Immediately, I regretted it, because the sound seemed to clear his head, and he pulled away.

I couldn’t stop my lips from following him, but he stayed out of reach of my kiss. Instead he groaned, ducked his head, and placed a hot kiss on my neck.

My brain was definitely dialed down. I was all body in that moment, and God, it felt good. I was only the sum of my nerve endings, which were going crazy. He exhaled heavily, and it scorched my skin. His voice was raspy when he spoke, “Sorry. Got carried away.”

Those were exactly the right words. Carried away. I had never been so caught up in another person before. I’d never been so… out of control. It at once excited and terrified me.

His face appeared before mine, and I tried to keep my expression neutral. His hand slid out of my shirt, and I shivered, my skin mourning the loss.

He took a step back. “Right. Might be time for a little more reason, little less passion.”

I laughed, but inside I was giving the middle finger to reason. It had ruled me long enough.

 

Chapter Three

 

“You’re kidding me, right?”

I stared at him, wondering if my control freak side could handle this.

His hand skimmed my jaw. “I promise I’ll go slow.”

I shook my head, and his hand dropped. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Just hold on to me. I promise… you’ll have fun.”

“Garrick…”

“Bliss, just trust me.”

I took a deep breath. I could do this. I just had to dial down my brain like Kelsey said.

“Okay, but hurry… before I change my mind.”

His face split in a smile, and he placed a quick kiss on my temple. “That a girl.”

Then he carefully fixed the helmet over my hair, threw a leg over his motorcycle, and offered me a hand. I pushed down my reservations, and slipped my hand into his. The seat was curved so that even though I tried to sit a few inches back, I slid until my body was pressed right up against his.

His hand settled on my knee, his fingers curving until they tickled at the sensitive area at the back.

“Hold on to me.”

I did as I was told, and nearly had an aneurism when I could feel the ridges of his abs through his shirt. Suddenly I was uber-conscious of the little pudge that rested just above my jeans. He was going to take one look at my body and know that I wasn’t good enough for him. Hell, he could probably feel that pudge against his back now, and was already regretting this. Then the hand around my knee gave a quick tug, and even though I didn’t think we could get any closer, we did.

I wasn’t just pressed against him. I was plastered.

My pelvis was so tight against him that a dizzy spell tore through me. And at that same moment, we took off. I dug my hands into his middle, and he jumped, the whole motorcycle swerving to the side.

I screamed. Well, more like shrieked. Right in his ear.

He straightened us out, and then slowed to a stop at the stop sign.

“All right?”

My face buried against his shoulder, I managed to squeak out, “Yeah.”

“Sorry, love, I’m just a wee bit ticklish is all.”

“Oh.” I loosened the fingers that were practically gouging into his sides. Thank God he couldn’t see my face right now. Red was not a good look on me.

He took my hands, and pulled so that my forearms were across his middle, and my arms were wrapped completely around him.

“That’s better. Let’s give it another go.”

This time when he took off, I didn’t scream. He gained speed slowly, and I kept my cheek flat against his back with my eyes closed.

Shakespeare was stuck in my head from our earlier conversation, so I recited everything I knew to keep my mind busy. I started with Hamlet’s soliloquy. Then moved on to the St. Crispin’s Day Speech from Henry V. I was finishing up Macbeth’s Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow monologue when Garrick interrupted.

“You really do love the Bard.”

Mortification was becoming my default emotion. Guess I wasn’t reciting those in my head like I thought I was.

“Oh, I, um, just memorize really easily.”

My cheek still against his back, I tried to calm my sprinting heart. Now that the motorcycle wasn’t moving, my brain was free to fear that other thing that I had been actively not thinking about.

Sex.

I was going to have sex.

With a boy.

A hot boy.

A hot BRITISH boy.

Or maybe I was going to throw up.

What if I threw up on the hot British boy?

What if I threw up on the hot British boy DURING SEX?

“Bliss?”

I jerked back, horrified and wondering if I accidentally spoke aloud again.

“Yes?”

“We can get off the bike anytime.”

“Oh.” I pulled my arms back so quickly that I nearly lost my balance and fell off the bike. Luckily, with only a minor squeak, I managed to stabilize myself, and slowly slide off the bike.

Then my calf grazed a pipe on the side of the bike, and I was screaming again.

It was hot. So FREAKING hot. And now my skin was stinging.

“Bliss?”

I had limped several feet away from the bike by the time Garrick caught up to me. Despite my clenched fists, and the way I was biting down on my lip to hold in the pain, my eyes were tearing up.

His hands cupped my face first, and then he glanced down at my leg where a red welt was shining about an inch below the bottom of my capris.

“Oh bugger.”

I kept my lips clamped shut, uncertain if I could open my mouth without crying. Garrick slipped an arm around my waist, and I threw one over his shoulder.

“Come on, love. Let’s hope that locksmith has already arrived.”

For the first time, I looked around and realized where we were.

We were in my apartment complex.

We lived in the same apartment complex!

I warred over whether I should say something as he steered me toward his apartment. I almost mentioned it when we walked past my own car, but then I reminded myself that this was supposed to be a one-night thing. He was one building over from me. Thank God. What if he had lived right beside me, and I had to see him every day after the no doubt terrible sex I was about to try to have with him?

We got to his door.

No locksmith.

The skin on my calf felt hot, like I was standing right next to an open flame.

He shot me a worried look, and then pulled out his phone.

He hit the call button twice, redialing the last number he called.

He stepped away from me to talk, and I leaned heavily against the wall beside his door. Clearly, I was not meant to have sex. This was God telling me that I was meant to be a nun. Get thee to a nunnery, and all that crap.

I was so delirious I was confusing God and Shakespeare.

Garrick came back, and even his frown was gorgeous.

“Bad news. The locksmith got held up, and won’t be here for another hour.”

I tried not to cringe. I failed.

He knelt, and his fingers ran up my shin, stopping a few inches to the right of my burn. Thank God I’d shaved. He took a deep breath, and released it slowly through his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then nodded.

“Right. Well, in that case, we should maybe take you to the Emergency Room.”

“What? No!”

What would Kelsey say? I went out aiming to have sex, and instead I ended up in the Emergency Room. FML.

“Bliss, the burn isn’t too bad, but if you don’t start treating it, it’s going to hurt like hell.”

I tipped my head back against the wall, and blew a stray hair out of my face. “ I don’t live far. We can just go to my place.”

“Oh. Okay.”

His grin eased back on to his face, and for a brief second I was too awash in other feelings to remember the pain. He continued, “We’ll have to be careful putting you back on the motorcycle. Wouldn’t want you to burn yourself again.”

I bit down on my bottom lip. “We don’t actually have to get on the bike.”

He gracefully arched one eyebrow.

“When I say I don’t live far. I mean that I live in the next building over.”

Both eyebrows jumped up then. His surprise only lasted a second before a different expression crossed his face—one harder to pinpoint that made the butterflies in my stomach start having seizures.

“Let’s go to your flat, then…neighbor.”

I felt weak in the knees, and not just because of the pain.

I swallowed, but my mouth still felt dry. He didn’t put his arm around me again, but his fingers touched my back lightly, and then stayed there as we walked. We arrived at my apartment in less than a minute. His hand dropped to my lower back as I rummaged for my keys, and for a second, I forgot what I was searching for.

Keys. To my apartment.

Which he was about to enter.

With me.

Alone.

To have sex.

Sex.

Sex.

Sex.

My fingers felt broken as I tried and failed to insert the key into the lock. He didn’t say anything. Nor did he take the keys from me—which was good, because that would have totally pissed me off. I may have been a mental, emotional, and physical wreck, but I didn’t need a guy to turn a key for me. His hand stayed calmly, gently, patiently against my back until I managed to force the door open.

When I stepped forward into the dark hallway, his hand didn’t follow. I looked back at him, standing on my porch, his hand now tucked casually into his pockets. His smile was crooked, endearing, and heart-stoppingly gorgeous. But he looked like he didn’t plan to come inside. This was it. He had changed his mind. Because I was a complete mess. Why wouldn’t he?

I took a breath, reminding myself that I was awesome. I was not insecure or shy. I was just a virgin. No big deal. And if I ever wanted to not be a virgin, I was going to have to have sex. Time to man, um… woman, up.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” I asked, eyeing him standing carefully outside my door. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a vampire?”

He chuckled. “No, I promise the paleness is only because I’m British.”

“Then what are you waiting for? What happened to the guy who made me sit to find out his name and made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want me going back to my friend?” What happened to the guy who was bold in ways I could only pretend to be?

He took one step, so that he stood in the doorframe, and leaned against the jamb. “That guy is trying to be a gentleman, because as much as he wanted you to come back to his place and as much as he wants to kiss you—you’re hurt, and I’m afraid you don’t actually want me here.”

“You mean he’s afraid.”

“Hmm?”

“You were speaking in the third person, and then switched to first…” And I was rambling.

“So I was.” He was still smiling. What did that mean? “It was nice to meet you, Bliss.”

This was the easy out if I didn’t want to go through with this. If I wanted my virginity to see the light of day… again. He was turning away. All I had to do was let him go.

“Wait!”

He smiled a small, concealed smile, and raised that one eyebrow again.

I breathed through my fear. “If he’s trying to be a gentleman, shouldn’t he stay and try to help the injured girl who knows nothing about treating motorcycle burns?”

His eyes left mine to glance at my calf, and when he looked up again, his eyes found my lips instead.

“The injured girl is right. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Then he stepped inside my apartment and closed the door.

The light from the streetlamps outside disappeared, and we stood in the darkened hallway because my overhead light had been burnt out for weeks, and I still hadn’t replaced it.

I could feel the heat radiating off of him as he stepped closer. His hand once again settled in the small of my back, and he whispered in the dark, “Lead the way, love.”

Chapter Four

I stood in my bathroom in a tank top and underwear with my pants around my knees, on the verge of hyperventilating. Garrick was outside the door, and it was like he was a magnet. My heart kept trying to leap out of my chest toward him. He had told me to take off my capris, and that I’d need to keep from wearing tight clothes over the burn for a while. He had offered to help me get the capri pants off, but that made me feel like I was going to vomit again. So instead, I began wiggling them off myself, trying and failing to keep the fabric from touching the damaged skin.

I slid the material a bit lower, and bit down on my lip to try and silence a groan.

“Bliss?” Garrick knocked lightly at the door. “You okay?”

“Just peachy!” I said back.

I pulled on the pants again and gasped.

“Bliss, just let me help. You’re worrying me.”

I closed my eyes, trying to think of a way around this. Hobbling awkwardly with my jeans around my knees, I found a skirt with an elastic waist in my hamper. I pulled it over my head, and down to cover my underwear, and then took a seat on the toilet.

I felt my cheeks, certain that they were probably a mortifying shade of red. Nothing I could do about it now. I said, “Okay. Come in.”

The door swung open slowly, and Garrick’s head peeked around the corner, followed by the rest of him. He took one look at my rumpled skirt, and the jeans bunched around my knees.

Then he laughed. Raucous laughter, actually.

“This is so humiliating.” How was I ever going to have sex with him now?

He pressed his lips together to stop the laughter, but amusement still danced in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re in pain. You just look so…”

“Ridiculous?”

“Cute.”

I leveled him with a glare.

“Ridiculously cute.”

His grin was intoxicating, and I couldn’t help my begrudging smile.

“Alright. Now that you’ve had your laugh, help me take off my pants,” I said with the same sarcasm I’d been relying on since he entered.

Either he didn’t catch the sarcasm or he just didn’t care because his eyes fixed on me in a way that I could only describe as downright predatory. Suddenly, much more than my leg was burning up.

He stared at me for a moment before dropping his eyes, and clearing his throat. Kneeling beside me, he took my leg into his hands.

I had already started to pull the capris down, so the burn was currently covered. His hand hovered by the zipper, which was now around the middle of my thighs. He cleared his throat again, and then slipped his hand down my pant leg.

HEART. ATTACK.

I was pretty sure I was having one.

Using his other hand, he pulled the jeans down as far as he could, just over my knees. He looked up at me, cleared his throat again, and said, “Can I borrow your hand?”

I couldn’t speak, but I put my right hand forward, the palm of which was embarrassingly sweaty. He took my hand, and pulled it inside my pant leg to join his own.

“Keep your hand here, and pull the fabric as far away from your leg as you can. I’ll do the same at the bottom, and we’ll try to slip them off without touching the burn.”

I nodded, my hand ten times steadier than my heart.

He slipped his hand up and out, his light touch sending shivers through me. He did as he said, pulling the fabric away from my skin at the bottom, and then together we tried to pull the pants off.

It wasn’t the most successful mission. These jeans were indecently tight (thanks to Kelsey), and every once and a while the fabric bumped my skin, and I cringed.

“Sorry,” he apologized each time like it was his fault. I wanted to correct him, but I just loved the way he said “soo-ri” so much that I let it go.

After a minute or two of slow and careful maneuvering, my jeans hit the floor.

We both laughed—the way you see people in movies laugh after they’ve just diffused a bomb. And when I stopped laughing, I realized that his hand was still on my leg. One hand was cupped around my ankle, and the other was brushing softly against the skin around the burn.

If he kept touching me like that, I was going to melt into a puddle right here on the floor.

“Um, thanks.”

He seemed to realize then what he was doing. His eyes flicked quickly to his hands. Instead of pulling back immediately, he grinned, brushed his hand slowly down my leg, and then let go.

“No problem. Now we need to cool it off. We could run it under cool water.” I pictured my leg hiked up to the sink, or us both trying to maneuver in my bathtub. My face must have given it away, because he added, “Or just a cool damp cloth will work.”

I handed him a washcloth from a basket behind me, and he turned on the sink, waiting until the water was cool before wetting the cloth.

I sucked in a breath as he laid it across my burn, but the cool felt good, enough that I relaxed for the first time since we came into my apartment.

“Better?”

I nodded, “Much. I’ll never wear jeans that tight again.”

He quirked a smile. “Now that would be a shame.”

I was going to need a fan to keep myself cool if he kept saying things like that.

“Listen,” He began. “I’m sorry about this. I never should have pushed you to get on that bike.”

“It’s not your fault I know nothing about motorcycles, and didn’t realize it would be hot.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

“Yeah, well, there are a lot of things I’ve never done.”

He quirked one eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Well…” I swear my heartbeat sounded like stu-pid, stu-pid, stu-pid as it pounded in my ears. “Um, until today I’d never met anyone who was British.”

He laughed, combing his fingers unconsciously through his hair. It made me want to comb my fingers through his hair.

He said, “That’s why you kissed me, isn’t it? All you American girls seem to love accents.”

I swallowed my smile and said, “I believe you were the one who kissed me.”

He stood, and his messy blond hair fell over his forehead, framing those devilish eyes. “So I was.”

He ran the cloth under the water again to keep it cool, but my body was too heated to really tell the difference when he placed it back on my skin. His other hand curled around my ankle again.

I kept my breath carefully steady, and said, “Your turn.”

“Hmm?”

“What’s something you’ve never done?”

“Well, I’ve never chatted up a girl in a pub before tonight.”

My jaw dropped. “Really?” How was that possible? He was gorgeous! Maybe all the girls just threw themselves at him before he even entered the bar, so he never had to bother with going inside.

He shrugged, and with the motion his thumb started brushing back and forth against the top of my foot.

“I know it goes against the English stereotype, but I’ve never been much for getting sloshed, um drunk, all the time.”

“Me neither,” I said. And I meant it, even though my head was still a bit fuzzy from all that tequila. “So what brings this non-stereotypical Brit to Texas?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been in the States for a while. I came here to go to school, and never went back. I actually just moved back to Texas though. Haven’t been here for a few years.”

“Me too. I just moved back here a few years ago.”

I’d grown up in Texas when I was little, but we moved to Minnesota when I was in 8th grade. It was always my plan to come back here for college.

He re-wetted the cloth one more time, and we sat there talking. He told me about growing up in England, and how different it had been living in the states.

“The first time some bloke told me he liked my pants, I was so shocked I thought I’d left home missing a few key things.”

“Pants? I don’t understand.”

“That’s what we call underwear, love.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “Good to know.”

“When I asked a classmate for a rubber, you call them erasers, everyone laughed so hard that I was ready to board a flight straight back to London.”

I tried to hold in my laughter, and failed. But I figured he deserved it after laughing at my pants, um… jeans, ordeal earlier.

“That must have been terrible.”

He reached for the gauze I’d pulled down from the cabinet earlier, and he carefully placed it over the burn, and taped down the edges as he spoke.

“You get used to it. I’ve been here so long now that I usually manage well enough. Occasionally when I visit London, and come back, I have some trouble adjusting, but in all, I’d say I’m fairly Americanized.”

“Except for that accent.”

He smiled. “Can’t get rid of the accent now, can I? Then how would I ever attract the attention of pretty things like you?”

“By reading Shakespeare in a bar, obviously.”

He laughed, and the sound spread through my skin, loosening some of my nerves.

“You’re cute,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes… ridiculously so, as we established earlier”

“Would you feel better if I called you ridiculously sexy?”

Just like that, the ease I’d felt earlier disappeared, and my breaths came too shallow. I had no answer. What could I possibly say to that?

“What’s that look for?” He asked.

I had no idea which of my multitude of emotions had shown on my face, so I shrugged.

“You act like no one’s ever called you sexy before.” That would be because they hadn’t. “Which I know can’t be true, not when you look the way you looked tonight. I could barely keep my hands off you, and we’ve only just met. I’d be embarrassed if I hadn’t enjoyed it so much.”

This was it. I may not have had sex, but I knew enough to know when a guy was putting the moves on me. And remarkably, I didn’t even care. All I cared about was the fact that he was sitting so close to me, and was driving me crazy. His hand was still leisurely stroking my ankle, and if he didn’t kiss me again soon I was going to combust. “Look at me, I can’t even keep my hands off you now.”

I swallowed, but my mouth suddenly felt like I’d swallowed a sandbox.

He pulled himself up on his knees, and his hand trailed from my ankle up the outside of my uninjured calf. His hips were a few inches away from my knees as I sat there dumbfounded on the toilet.

“Tell me I’m not crazy,” He said.

I couldn’t do that. I was nowhere near sane enough at the moment to advise anyone else on rational behavior.

“Tell me I can kiss you.”

That… that I could do.

“You can kiss—“

I didn’t even finish the sentence before his lips were on mine, and my burn was forgotten completely.

Chapter Five

The kiss ended too soon.

An embarrassing groan of disappointment left my mouth, but it couldn’t be helped. Luckily, Garrick wasn’t done. He stood, and pulled me up by my elbows. He drew me in until our bodies fit together in a way that hadn’t been possible when I was seated.

“That’s better,” He said.

I didn’t bother agreeing. I just lifted up on my tiptoes and kissed him.

Compared to our earlier kiss, this one was slow, exploratory, and like kindling on a fire. One of his hands curled around my neck, his thumb pressing gently into my collarbone. The other danced from my hair to my shoulder to my hip, and then back.

For once in my life, I concentrated simply on the feel of a guy against me, the brush of his tongue against mine, the pinpricks of heat where his fingers pressed into my skin. I didn’t think about anything—not about my breath, or whether my hands were in the right place, or what he was expecting. I lost myself in him.

My hands rested at his hips, and I wanted to do some exploring of my own. I pulled my hands in until they rested on his stomach between us. At my movement, his lips pressed a little bit harder against mine. His tongue pushed a little bit deeper. I slid both hands up, feeling the hard curves of his body beneath the fabric of his shirt. When my exploration reached his chest, his hand tugged my hip forward, so that my stomach was pressed against him.

I could feel the way he wanted me, and a trickle of anxiety started at my spine. Then his kiss turned harder and faster, and I raced to follow his lead, ignoring my nerves.

I left one hand on his chest, and wrapped the other around his neck, and pulled myself up farther on my tiptoes, so that my hips lined up with his.

Garrick broke the kiss, and exhaled shakily against my lips. The brilliant blue I’d seen in his eyes earlier was overtaken almost completely by his black pupils. He placed a hand on my jaw; his thumb pulled at my bottom lip. For several long seconds, he just studied me.

“You are ridiculously sexy, you know.”

I lowered my heels to the floor, my calves burning too much to stay on my tiptoes. And I couldn’t look in his eyes any more. Every time I’d almost completely turned off my brain, he said something to turn it back on. I said, “You know you don’t need that line. I was already kissing you.”

“And what a good kiss it was.” His thumb brushed against my lip again, and he tipped my face back up toward him. “I’d like to do it again somewhere that isn’t your bathroom.”

“Oh, right.” Was he asking to go to my bedroom? I was pretty sure he was asking to go to my bedroom.

I fumbled with the doorknob for a few seconds before my clouded brain managed to swing the door open. We exited into the dark hallway again, and his hand found my back once more.

“Sorry, the hallway light is out, and I haven’t had a chance to change it.”

His lips were right by my ear when he answered, “I don’t mind the dark.”

All the tiny hairs along my skin stood on end.

We stepped into the living room, and I flipped on a light that actually worked. My apartment was a loft with an open floor plan. Two walls were brick, and the other was painted a pretty plum color. The ceiling was tall with exposed pipes criss-crossing above us. My bedroom was off to the right, separated from the living room by only a lavender curtain since I didn’t actually have a door.

“Well, this is my living room.” I gestured with one hand, unsure whether he expected a tour or if I should just skip straight to the bedroom. I’d never done this before, so I had no idea whether we were supposed to do the traditional niceties first. My heart ran wildly as he walked around the room, inspecting a painting here, a knick-knack there.

“It’s nice. Fits you, I think.”

I beamed. I loved this apartment. It always made me feel like I was in an episode of Friends.

“I’m ashamed to say that my place is still covered in boxes. Wouldn’t have made for a very interesting tour.”

God, how I wished we were at his place. Then he would be in control. I hated not knowing what I was supposed to do next.

His eyes flicked to the curtain that led to my bedroom. It was quick. His eyes were almost immediately back on the lamp he was standing next to, but I saw it.

This was it. I was about to have sex.

Should I tell him I was a virgin? I should tell him.

Should I tell him now? Or right before?

I remembered Kelsey’s advice, and forced myself to dial back my fears. I turned the volume down so low that I could pretend I wasn’t thinking at all.

Before I chickened out, I walked forward and held out my hand. He took it immediately, and I led him through the curtain and into my bedroom. There was no overhead lighting in this area, so I flipped on a lamp to my right, and then left him to turn on another beside my bed.

When I turned around he was holding up the indecently short mini-skirt that Kelsey had made me try on earlier.

His eyes met mine, and his grin made my lungs feel like they were on the verge of collapse. I snatched the skirt out of his hands, scooped up the few other articles of clothing still on my bed, and threw them into my closet.

“Sorry about that.”

“You don’t hear me complaining.”

I raised and eyebrow, and said, “Forget about it. You will never see me in that skirt.”

“Never? Is that a challenge, love?”

“It’s a promise.”

He skirted the corner of my bed to join me in the space between my bed and the wall. “I’d feel very comfortable helping you break that promise.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder, his index finger dipping beneath the strap of my tank top.

“I’m sure you’d be comfortable helping me do a lot of things.”

His hand tightened on my shoulder and his eyes dropped to my lips.

“That I would.”

Then he kissed me.

He didn’t bother with soft and sweet this time. There was a hungry desperation in his kiss that had me gasping into his mouth. His teeth pulled on my bottom lip in the same way his thumb had earlier, and my whole body trembled in response. He bent slightly, and swept an arm around my waist, pulling me up and against him so that our bodies were lined up perfectly.

My toes barely brushed the floor, but it didn’t matter. He was holding me up. I buried my hands into his messy locks, and threw myself into the kiss. He took a few steps backward, and sat on the edge of my bed. On instinct, my legs went on either side of his lap, straddling him. The hand that had been around my waist curved around my butt and pulled me against him.

If I had any doubt about where this was heading, it disappeared then. He pulled me again, his own hips tilting up at the same time, and I broke the kiss, gasping. His mouth skimmed across my jaw and down my neck. His lips lingered over my pulse point, his tongue brushing across the sensitive skin. He continued down over my collarbone until my tank top blocked any further progress. I thought he would stop, but he slipped the tank top strap off my shoulder, and his lips never left my skin. His other hand snuck beneath the bottom of my shirt, teasing the skin around the waistband of my skirt.

My hands were still tangled in his hair, and I tightened my grip and pulled his face back to mine. His hand brushed higher as we kissed, smoothing over my ribcage, my skin burning in his wake. When his hand cupped my breast, I rocked against him, and he groaned. The skirt I’d thrown on earlier was up around my thighs, and there was so little between us. I tilted my hips forward again, and this time it was me who moaned. When his other hand found the edge of my shirt, it was to pull it up and over my head.

We broke our kiss to let the fabric pass between us. I resisted the urge to cover myself as his gaze raked over me. And God was I thankful that Kelsey had insisted I wear some cute lingerie. This particular set was black and white lace.

When he looked at me, it was with such obvious desire that I knew he didn’t care about that little pudge that had stressed me out earlier. His right hand kneaded my breast gently, while his left found my neck. He pulled my face close to his. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but at the last second, he swerved, and he pressed his cheek against mine. He dropped a kiss on the edge of my jaw, just below my ear. And God did that feel amazing. It was just a small innocent kiss, but it had me gripping his hair, and pushing my hips down against his. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Did I say ridiculously sexy? I meant unbelievably sexy.”

I was unbelievably turned on.

He kissed me again, and then turned and laid me back against the bed. He paused to pull his shirt over his head, and for the first time I got to see the hard planes of his body that had fascinated me earlier. He rose up on his knees, my legs still splayed on either side of him. He stopped to study me again.

This was the part where I should tell him. I should just say it. Just spit it out.

I’m a virgin.

Just three words.

Not that hard, right?

I swallowed, and cleared my throat.

Then he ducked his head, and pressed his lips against the skin of my stomach, and all my thoughts disappeared.

Chapter Six

 

It was possible that I might not make it to the sex. With the way he was mapping out my body with his lips—I was going to spontaneously combust before we ever got that far.

His fingers trailed up my thighs and stroked the skin of my hip just below the waistband of my panties. Something in my brain detonated, and panic filled me.

I was going to be so terrible at this… the worst he’d ever had probably. And then he’d never want to see me again (and I really wanted to see him again). I’d probably be traumatized and never want to have sex again, which meant every relationship for the rest of my life would fail, and I would end up alone and miserable with nine cats and a ferret.

I didn’t want to end up alone and miserable with nine cats and a ferret.

Then one of his hands pushed my panties to the side, and I was anything but miserable.

Black danced around the edges of my vision, and all the feeling in my body seemed to narrow to that one spot where he was touching me, and holy heart failure, it felt amazing. His fingers hit a spot inside me that had me arching up and towards him. His head dipped, and he started dropping kisses across my chest.

My hands had a mind of their own as they kneaded at his back, and then slipped around to his stomach, where I flicked open the button on his jeans. He made a sound in the back of his throat, and his lips crashed against mine. He kissed me fiercely, pressing me down into the mattress. The kisses kept building—harder and faster, and I needed something more. I slid my hand along the taught skin of his stomach, to the front of his jeans. Then his lips broke from mine with a groan. He didn’t pull back, but kept his lips millimeters from mine. His breath came out in a rush.

“Oh God, Bliss…”

He placed a final lingering kiss on my lips, and then pulled back until he was kneeling above me. I heard the metal clink of his zipper, and kept my eyes focused on the frame of his shoulders as he fiddled with his clothes. He stood for a few seconds, and I fixed my eyes on the ceiling. I wanted this. Badly.

I was about to repeat my mantra again when his lips and hands came back to me—frenzied, almost desperate.

I could feel the pressure building low in my core, and every muscle in my legs was pulled tight as I waited for what I knew was coming.

Then he dragged my panties down my legs, and his body settled into the crook of my thighs, and it was like I’d just been submerged in ice.

I was about to have sex.

With a guy I’d just met, who I knew absolutely nothing about.

And He knew nothing about me… including the fact that I was a virgin.

And God, I wanted to go through with it. I was sick of being a virgin, and he was unbelievably sexy, but this wasn’t me.

I couldn’t do this. Not with him.

I just… couldn’t.

I froze up beneath him, but his mouth continued worshipping at the juncture between my neck and shoulder.

I should have told him I was a virgin or that I wasn’t ready. It wouldn’t have been pretty or easy, but at least he would have understood… probably.

Instead, my eyes locked on the porcelain cat cookie jar I’d inherited from my great grandmother, and my brain created a ridiculous excuse out of the first thing that came to my mind.

“Stop! Cats! Stop…”

What the hell was I saying?

I put the heels of my palms against his shoulders, and pushed up slightly.

He pulled back, his eyes dark, his hair mussed, and his lips swollen from our kisses. I almost changed my mind then. He looked almost irresistible. Almost.

“Sorry, love. Did you say cats? ”

“Yes, I can’t do this… right now. Because… I have a cat. Yes, I have a cat that I need to, um, get? Take care of! I have to take care of my cat! So… I can’t do this. “I gestured between us, hoping to God that I didn’t sound as crazy to him as I sounded to myself. Improbable.

I don’t even have a cat!

I don’t know what synapses misfired in my brain, but I wanted to kick myself. I wanted to punch myself in the face until I lost consciousness. Right about now, I could probably dive into a pool of hydrochloric acid without even a pep talk.

His brain must have been as clouded as mine, because he paused for a few moments, processing, then looked around.

“I don’t see a cat.”

My throat was getting dry, the way it always did when I lied. I was a terrible liar (as evidenced by, well, me).

“That’s because… it’s not here. Yes. The cat that I own is not here because… I have to go get her. I forgot, I was supposed to go pick her up.”

He glanced at the clock, which now read 12:20 AM.

“You’re supposed to pick her up now?”

I pushed at him again, and this time, he rolled off of me and to the side easily. He was completely naked, and I was in my bra and skirt with my panties still hooked around one ankle.

“Yes… she’s at the Vet! It’s a, um, 24-hour Veterinarian…”

“A 24-hour Veterinarian?”

“Uh, yeah. We have those here… in America. Totally.” That hydrochloric acid was sounding incredibly appealing right now. “And I was supposed to pick her up hours ago.”

“You can’t go by in the morning?”

I tried to slip my panties back on my other foot, and I toppled backward, ass-planting on my hardwood floor.

“Jesus, Bliss!”

He hopped off the bed and knelt beside me, which only made me more flustered considering he was still naked and still, um, ready.

“I’m fine, promise. I’m fine. I just… if I don’t pick her up tonight, there will be a fee, and I can’t afford it.”

“Well, let me get dressed and I’ll go with you.”

“NO! Um, no, that’s okay. Shouldn’t your locksmith be coming soon?” I finished with a smile that I hoped said, this is no big deal. I’m sure it actually looked like I’m a crazy person, run now while you can!

He glanced at the clock, his gorgeous face marred by a frown.

“I guess, yeah.”

“Great. I’m just--- I’m just going to run. You can, um, let yourself out whenever you’re…” my eyes wandered over his body again, and I felt like melting into a puddle of idiocy and mortification and arousal. “Whenever you’re, um, ready. Um, done. Um, just whenever you like.”

Then I flew through the curtain that shielded my bedroom from the rest of the apartment, and bolted out the door, ignoring him as he called out my name.

It wasn’t until I’d walked halfway across the parking lot that I realized:

1. I wasn’t wearing shoes.

A. Or a shirt.

2. I didn’t bring my keys

            A. Or anything really.

3. I’d just left a complete stranger in my apartment.

            A. Naked.

Whoever said one-night stands were supposed to be simple with no strings attached had clearly never met the disaster that was me.

Chapter Seven

Four.

That’s the number of people who saw me hiding around the corner from my own apartment in just a skirt and a bra.

Eleven.

That’s the number of ant bites I got on my shoeless feet.

Twenty-seven.

That’s the number of times I was tempted to do myself physical harm because I am an IDIOT.

One.

That’s the number of times I tried not to cry, but failed.

Garrick stayed in my apartment for a good ten minutes after I left. The entire time my mind was like a five-year-old who just drank a bathtub full of energy drinks. What was he doing in there? Was he just getting dressed reeeaaally slowly? Was he looking through my things? Was he trashing my place because I’d run out and left him there like the biggest jerk this side of Kanye West at the 2009 VMA’s?

When he finally exited, I watched him close my door, and then pause. He looked at the metal apartment number nailed into the siding, and just stared at it for a while. Then he shook his head, and started toward his own apartment.

I waited until I couldn’t see him anymore, and then I waited for another five minutes just to be safe (6 more ant bites, 1 more passerby, and 4 visions of self-harm later).

As soon as I got inside, I curled up on my bed. The same bed where I’d almost had sex. The same bed where I had wanted to have sex… sort of. The same bed that had held an incredibly sexy, incredibly naked British boy. Perhaps I had just jumped off the cliff into Crazy town, but I could swear that the comforter was still warm where his body had been. Like a complete psycho, I leaned my face into the pillow and sniffed like girls in books and movies always do to see if I could still catch his scent.

I couldn’t. And I felt super creepy.

I also couldn’t sleep in this bed without going crazy.

I moved my pillow to the couch, where I sat numbly, probably in shock. At the very least, I could reassure myself that this was only a private humiliation. No one else had to know how pathetic I was. And after my borderline schizophrenic display earlier, I was pretty sure he was going to avoid me as avidly as I planned on avoiding him. We might live in the same apartment complex, but if I had my way we’d never have to see each other again.

***

Morning came too early, and I was stiff from sleeping on my crappy couch for the entire night. Plus, my head was pounding like I actually had punched myself in the face like I’d been tempted to the night before.

Stupid tequila.

I moved sluggishly, dragging myself into and out of the shower at a much slower pace than normal. My hair was still wet when there came a knock on my door. Kelsey practically fell on top of me when I opened the door because she’d been trying to peek through the peephole.

Silently, she smiled and mouthed, “Is he still here?”

I sighed and said, “No, Kels, he’s gone.” I turned away from her, grabbing my head to try to stop the turning that was happening in there, too. I left the door open, and walked away, knowing she’d come in whether or not I issued an invitation.

“Someone’s a crabby camper this morning. What is it? Was it awful? Was he like… miniscule?”

“He was not miniscule!” Not that I had a great deal to compare it to, but I was pretty positive that wasn’t the case.

“Oh, so it was just bad?”

I should have just told her that I hadn’t gone through with it, but my head was pounding, and my stomach was churning, and I did not want to be forced into going out again tonight for try number two.

So I lied.

“He was fine. I’m just hung-over.”

“Fine? FINE? Come on, that boy was gorgeous! Please at least pretend that you liked it!”

“I did like it!” If by ‘it’ we were talking about the single greatest make out session of my life. “I liked him.”

Those words were out of my mouth before I really thought of the consequences.

“Oh no!” Kelsey cried. “No, you don’t! I know he was your first and all, but that does not mean you have to jump into insta-love. This was purely physical that’s it. If you try to do something stupid like marry this boy, I will personally drag you kicking and screaming away from the altar.”

“No! You’re right, of course.” I shrugged like it was no big deal, but my throat was getting dry, and I could feel the skin of my neck and cheeks getting red. I hoped she would just assume I was embarrassed, because normally she could pick out my lies like nobody’s business. “I swear it’s not a big deal. I’m not in love with him. I’m not going to marry him. In fact, I barely remember most of it.” And by barely remember, I mean most of it didn’t actually happen. The rest though… that was imprinted on my brain. Not even the almighty tequila could take those memories away from me. I just wish it had taken the memories of how it ended.

“Well, that sucks. But everything was okay, right?”

“Yeah,” I forced a smile, “Everything is okay.”

Kelsey hugged me, and it felt like one of those moments where we were supposed to be bonding or connecting or thinking about the same thing, but since everything on my side was a lie, I just hugged her back, and tried to pretend she was comforting me about my awkwardness.

“Alright, now get your ass in gear. If I don’t get coffee before class, I’m going to die. My sleep schedule is still off from Christmas Break, and I feel like a freaking zombie.” Zombie for Kelsey meant she was at a 6 on the perky scale instead of a 10.

I always thought I was an extrovert until I became a theatre major. Then I realized I just didn’t like silence. When there were plenty of other people around willing to be the entertaining one, I found I much preferred just observing.

The Starbucks on campus was overrun with a zombie horde of other sleep-deprived students. By the time I got my caramel macchiato I was pretty much already awake, and we were definitely going to be late for the first class of the last semester of our last year of college.

We booked it to the Fine Arts building, breezing past the hipster Art majors smoking outside the doors. We jogged down the hallway to find that sure enough, the doors to the small black box theatre where we had acting class were already closed.

“Shipoopi,” Kelsey said.

Then… because we’re theatre majors… we broke into the song from The Music Man. Because sometimes life just needs a little music. (But we did it quietly and on fast-forward because we were still late for class).

There was no way to enter this theatre without making a ridiculous amount of noise. The doors creaked and slammed no matter what you did. We pushed open one of the doors and immediately heard Eric Barnes, the head of the department say, “Late!”

We called an automatic, “Sorry Eric!”

Careful not to spill our coffees, we pushed through the curtains that surrounded the edge of the room, and grabbed the nearest empty seats on the risers.

I set my coffee down and went about organizing my stuff, digging through my bag for a pen and my folder.

“As I was saying,” Eric continued. “Ben Jackson was supposed to be teaching this course.” Ben was pretty much our favorite teacher, but he’d been offered a role in this killer new show off Broadway and would be taking the semester off. “But as you all know, he’s in New York for a few months. To replace him for the time being we have one of our most talented former students—Mr. Taylor.”

I finally found a dull pencil in the bottom of my purse. It would have to do. Kelsey chose that minute to grab my elbow and jerk me toward her. I glanced up at her and then at the front of the class where she was looking. Then the pencil I’d worked so hard to find fell from my hand, and rolled away, lost to the abyss under the risers.

The new professor was staring at me, even though everyone was clapping, and he should probably be waving or at the very least smiling. Our eyes met, and suddenly I was very glad I’d already set down my coffee.

Because the new professor had been naked in my bed a mere 8 hours ago.

Garrick was my teacher.

Chapter Eight

It felt like hours passed before he looked away from me. When he did, the smile he gave the class was uneasy, and he tugged absent-mindedly at the tie around his neck.

“Thank you, Eric. But please, everyone, call me Garrick.”

I think I could actually feel the hormones released into the atmosphere when the girls in the room heard his accent. I felt Kelsey staring at me, but I fixed my eyes on one of the stage lights hanging overhead, and tried to think my rapidly beating heart into submission. This was bad. This was SO BAD.

“Like Eric said, I did my Undergrad here, and then graduated this past May with an MFA in Acting from Temple University in Philadelphia. I’d been working in the theatre scene there for about six months when Eric called and asked if I’d be interested in the temporary position here.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, simultaneously anticipating and dreading the thought of making eye contact with him. He was not looking at me. In fact, his whole body was angled toward the students on the other side of the room, pretty much ignoring the entire section where I was seated. Other than the fact that he was pointedly not looking at one side of the room, there was no sign that he was worried or frazzled in any way; whereas I could feel the heat in my cheeks and my hands were shaking as I pressed them into my knees.

“I loved my four years here, and I’m, uh…”

He glanced at me, and I could do nothing but look back—wide eyed and petrified. He cleared his throat and returned his gaze to the other side of the room.

“I’m really excited to be back.”

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

I wanted to crawl into a hole at the bottom of a ravine, then be buried under an avalanche, and then die.

I wanted… to cry.

Eric excused himself then to let us get to know our new teacher. I wished I could excuse myself too because I happened to already know him plenty well.

“Well, then,” Garrick started. “I realize that I’m not that much older than you lot.” Another flick of his eyes to mine. It was becoming nearly impossible to swallow.

“But my goal here is to provide you with some insight into the next step in your journey from someone who isn’t so far removed. We all love Eric, Ben, Kate, and the rest of the faculty, but let’s face it, they’re not exactly the youngest kids on the block.” The whole class laughed. I was too busy concentrating on not throwing up. “It was a different world when they started their careers. When I was sitting where you are, we called this class Senior Prep; I think now it’s called the Business of Theatre. In it, we’ll be covering everything from auditions to career options to Actor’s Equity. We’ll also spend some time talking about the more abstract side of things. Because I hate to break it to you guys, but the hardest part about this business isn’t landing roles or making ends meet, though that is difficult. The hardest thing is keeping up your spirit and remembering why you chose this in the first place.”

He didn’t have to try to hard to scare us about our futures. We were all already operating on Threat Level Orange. We’d been having middle of the night, soul-searching conversations (while drunk, of course) since the year started.

“Now, if you don’t mind. I’d like to hear a bit about you all. Why don’t you tell me your names and what you’re interested in doing after you graduate.”

There were about twenty in the class. The first eight or so all recited their names followed by the obligatory, “I’m moving to New York.”

When you’re an actor, moving to New York is pretty much the dream. Those who are lucky can actually make it the plan. Some of us have to think a little more realistically.

Cade, my best friend besides Kelsey said, “Cade Winston. At the moment I’m a little torn between Grad School and just going straight into auditioning. I can’t really tell if I actually want to go to Grad School or if I’m just scared.”

Garrick smiled, and even though I was freaking out, I smiled, too. I felt like that about a lot of things in my life… not just acting.

He said, “Good. That’s honest, Cade. And the more honest you can be with yourself the better. Hopes and dreams are great, but they are a lot easier to break than a solid plan. We’ll see if we can’t figure out exactly what you want while you’re in this class.”

After that, it was like everyone felt okay to say what we were actually thinking, instead of what we felt was expected of us.

We spend so much time defending our choice to do this that it becomes hard to show any vulnerability at all. There’s only so many times you can handle someone asking about your fall back for when things don’t work before you start thinking that maybe the fall back should just be your plan.

Sometimes I wish I were a bit more like Kelsey. She was practically fearless. Though, I guess it’s easy to be a little fearless when your family is loaded.

“Kelsey Summers. I’m taking a year off to travel and just explore before I decide on what I’m doing. People always say that the most interesting actors are interesting people, so I figure it’s a good investment to spend some time becoming more fascinating than I already am.”

“Diva,” I muttered under my breath.

She narrowed her eyes, and delivered a quick pinch to the back of my arm in response. I yelped, and nearly toppled out of my seat at the same time that Garrick turned his eyes on me and said, “And you?”

Rubbing at my arm, I had to look away from his eyes before I could answer.

“Bliss Edwards. I’m a little torn between acting and stage management. And since they don’t really offer Masters programs where you can do both, I think I’ll just go ahead and enter the, um, job market or whatever.”

I looked back at him, but his eyes had already moved on to Dom, who was sitting one row above me.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Kelsey’s hand found mine, and she squeezed.

It took another twenty minutes to finish up introductions because, well, we’re theatre people. We love to hear ourselves talk.

With only five minutes left in class Garrick said, “Great. It sounds like you’ve all at least given a thought to the next step. Wednesday I want you all to come to class with your résumé and headshots and be ready to audition.”

“For what?” Dom asked. “It’s the first week of class. There aren’t any auditions for a few weeks.” Dom loved to hear himself speak more than most.

“It doesn’t matter.” Garrick answered. “In the real world, you might go to ten auditions in a day. You might have weeks to prepare or you might have an hour. Your job is only acting if you land the part, until then your job is auditioning, so you better be good at it. Dismissed. See you all on Wednesday.”

He grinned. It wasn’t quite as awe-inspiring as the grins he wore last night, but it was still enough to make my steps stutter on my way down the risers.

I was at the curtains, a mere ten feet away from the door when I heard, “Miss Edwards, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Kelsey’s face was caught somewhere between pity and glee. For the first time in twelve hours I wanted to punch someone besides myself.

“Lunch at noon?” She asked. I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I would survive until noon. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I could stomach going to my next class.

I took my time walking toward him, waiting for the rest of the class to clear. Dom was currently bombarding Garrick with questions, so I took a second to distract myself with Cade. Where Kelsey was the friend who dragged me out to bars and encouraged stupid behavior, Cade was the friend who always knew the right thing to say.

His first words—“On a scale of one to bitchy, how hung-over are you?”

I raised the corner of my mouth in a smile. That was all I could manage in my vortex of emotions, but it was a smile all the same. “Depends… right now? A solid seven. If Dom tries to talk to me… we’re going to need a bigger scale.”

He laughed, and something made me wonder how last night would have gone if I’d told him my secret instead of Kelsey. Somehow I doubt things would have turned out the same.

“I gotta run. Poli-Sci.” He made a face, and I concurred, glad I’d gotten that out of the way last year. “Let’s do something tonight, k?”

“Sure.” This time I did smile, because Cade was great for distractions, and that was most definitely what I needed right then.

He pecked me on the cheek, and then went on his way.

I turned toward Garrick to find him watching me, his eyes dark and narrowed. Dom was long gone. He must have gone out the doors on the other side. We stood there awkwardly for several seconds. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and mine were fidgeting with the bag slung across my shoulders.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

“How’s your leg?”

I swallowed, and looked down at my legs. I’d worn a skirt today to keep it uncovered. I tilted my leg so he could see the bandage. “Good. I re-bandaged it this morning. It’s blistered, but as far as I can tell, or well according to the Internet, that’s normal.”

I looked back, but his eyes were still on my legs.

I stiffened. God, this was so awkward.

He cleared his throat again.

“So… you’re in college.”

“So… you’re not.”

He stayed still for another second, then turned to the side abruptly, pacing several feet away from me, and then back. His fingers pushed through his hair in frustration, and all I could think about was my own fingers in his hair, and how incredibly soft it had been.

“I thought—“ He started. “Well, I wasn’t doing much thinking at all. But, you don’t look like you’re in college. I said I went to school here, and that I’d just moved back, and you said ‘Me too’ so I just assumed you had done the same.”

I kept having this irrational need to blink. I wasn’t crying or anything, but I just couldn’t stop. I said, “I lived in Texas when I was really young. I meant that I moved back here for school.”

He nodded once, and then kept nodding. So, he was nodding and I was blinking and neither of us was saying what really needed to be said.

And since I couldn’t stand silence, I was the first to break.

“I won’t tell anyone.” His eyebrows raised, but I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or judgment or just a facial tick. “I mean not that there’s anything… not that we… I mean we didn’t actually… um, make the beast with two backs and all that.”

OH. MY. GOD.

KILLMENOWKILLMENOWKILLMENOWKILLMENOOOOOOW.

The beast with two backs? Seriously?

I’m 22-years-old, and rather than just spitting out the word sex, I used a Shakespeare reference! A really embarrassing Shakespeare reference.

And he was smiling! And his smile did funny things to my insides that had me thinking about last night, which was totally not something I needed to be thinking about right now. No beasts. No backs. No last night.

I looked away, trying to keep it together. I took a deep breath, and said as calmly as I could. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

He took a moment to answer, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to look at him. If he was, he’d be waiting for a while.

“You’re right. We’re both adults. We can just forget it happened.”

There was no way I could forget it happened. But I could pretend.

I could act.

“Right,” I nodded.

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

“How’s your cat?”

“What cat? Oh! MY CAT. The cat… that is mine. Oh, she’s... ” I had said it was a she, right? “She’s fine. All meowing and purring and other cat things.”

God, why did the door have to be so far away?

I kept walking away, calling back my last few words over my shoulders.

“I’ve got to get to class. I’ll see you Wednesday I guess, okay, bye!”

I speed-walked out the door, down the hallway into the art wing, past the ceramics classroom, and into the handicap bathroom that no one ever used. Then I sunk down to my knees (on a BATHROOM FLOOR. Clearly, I was distraught because… GROSS).

I focused on not hyperventilating. Only I could have an affair with a teacher on accident. I knew one thing for sure. There was no way in hell I was going to my next class.

 

Chapter Nine

“I swear there was so much awkward in the air, it felt practically solid.”

My face was pressed against the table in the student lounge while Kelsey tried to ply me with french fries and other wonderful carbohydrates.

She patted at my back half-heartedly. There was nothing even remotely mothering about Kelsey, but at least she was trying. “You’re exaggerating, Bliss. The only thing I felt in the air was sexual tension. I mean, he didn’t look at you often, but when he did… Hello! Swoon!”

“There is no way I can survive a semester in that class.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re an actor. Actors sleep with each other all the time, and then move on. Hell—don’t you remember Freshman year when you didn’t want to make out with Dom in that scene, and Eric sent you in the other room and told you to kiss until you guys were comfortable with each other?”

“Why would you bring up what is, as of today, the second most mortifying moment of my life?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because you got over it.”

“I will never get over having Dom’s tongue down my throat. I can still taste the douchiness.”

“You will be fine, Bliss. It’s five months. And you only have to see him for 3 hours a week. It will be over before you know it. Then you can jump his bones one more time before you travel the world with me.”

“There are so many crazy things in that statement that I don’t even know where to begin.”

“You will begin by eating, or we’ll be late for Directing.”

Grumbling, I shoved a few fries in my mouth to appease her.

She rummaged around in her purse for her phone, but her hands closed around something else. “Oh, I forgot. I have advil… you want some?”

I swallowed and said, “Why would I want that?”

She quirked her head to the side, “Aren’t you sore after… you know… getting your freak on?”

Stupid Bliss. So freaking stupid.

“Oh! Oh, right. No, no I’m fine. I took a bunch this morning. I’m good, thanks.”

“That a girl.”

I moved through the rest of the day on autopilot, ready to get home and crawl into the cocoon of forgetting that is sleep. I didn’t even bother taking off my clothes before I fell into bed.

My phone woke me a few hours later. It was Cade.

“Hey babe—you ready to hangout?”

I peered blearily at the clock PM. It was only 7 o’ clock.

I yawned. “Yeah… sure. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking—“

“No drinking,” I cut him off. “I cannot handle any drinking.”

He laughed. “No hair of the dog for you? Fine… Lindsay’s playing tonight at Grind. How does coffee sound?”

I yawned again. Lindsay was a fellow theatre major. A night listening to her music would be simple and mellow. Exactly what I needed. “Coffee sounds perfect.”

When I walked outside 20 minutes later, my head swung from side to side, paranoid that I’d run into Garrick. When I was certain no one was around, I jogged into the parking lot and climbed in to Cade’s beat up old Honda.

He greeted me with a smile. I resisted the urge to glance back in the direction of Garrick’s apartment.

“I forgot to mention earlier that you looked great today. I mean, minus that lovely hung-over quality. You never wear skirts to class.”

I wanted to say, ‘Just drive already!’ But that would have sounded crazy even for me. So I answered, “Oh, I burned my leg, and I’m not supposed to wear tight clothing over it.”

“Seriously?” He asked. “What happened?”

I couldn’t exactly tell him the real reason. Because then he’d want to know whose motorcycle it had been and why I had been with them and yadda, yadda.

“Oh, I burned it with my straightener.”

“You burned your leg with your straightener? How long is your leg hair?”

You’d think after all the lying I’d done in the past twenty-four hours that I would be getting slightly better at it. You would be wrong.

“Ha-Ha. So funny!” I grimaced. “I knocked it off the counter, you punk, and it hit my leg.”

I fiddled with the air-conditioning vent even though it barely worked in his piece of junk car.

“Just don’t drop your coffee on yourself. Or better yet… get iced coffee.”

I said, “Aye, aye captain."

Grind was a cute little house on the edge of campus that had been turned into a coffee house a few years ago. Inside you ordered coffee, and outside there was a veranda where they hosted live music on most nights. The inside was packed. I sent Cade outside to find seats, and told him I’d get the drinks. I got an iced café mocha for me and a smoothie for Cade. He doesn’t even like coffee, but he comes here for me.

I stood in line for 10 or 15 minutes, so by the time I headed outside, I had no idea where Cade was. I strolled past the tables, nodding at people I knew, avoiding eye contact with those I didn’t. I caught Lindsay’s eye up on stage as she was setting up, and she grinned.

Finally I spotted Cade standing by a table up near the front. It was an awesome spot considering how packed this place was.

I came up behind him, and nudged my elbow into his back.

“Jesus, Cade, I thought I’d never find you out here. Couldn’t you have at least texted?”

Cade glanced over his shoulder at me, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and took the smoothie from my left hand.

“Sorry, babe, I was talking and got distracted. Look who it is!”

He pulled me forward, and there was Garrick.

This time, I wasn’t lucky enough to have already put down my coffee. So when I saw Garrick, it slipped out of my hand, and splashed all over my feet.

Cade, with his super fast reflexes, narrowly dodged getting it all over his Toms.

“Holy crap, Bliss. I was joking about the iced coffee, but I’m glad you listened. I swear you didn’t used to be this clumsy.”

I still couldn’t speak. My feet were cold and sticky. And my face felt way too hot.

“Here,” Cade said. “Sit down, Mr. Taylor said we could share his table.”

“It’s Garrick, Cade.” I’m sure he’d told Cade that half a dozen times already.

Cade ignored him and turned to me. “ I’ll run inside and get you some napkins. You want another drink?”

“No, no. I’m good, Cade. You stay. I’ll go clean up.”

“Forget it. You like Lindsay’s music much more than I do. All ‘be the change’ and ‘girl power’ stuff. I don’t want you to miss it. Sit.” This time, his hands pushed down on my shoulders until my butt hit the seat. Then he was off, and I was left alone with Garrick again.

“What are you doing here?” My question came out angry.

By comparison, he was sweet and calm, and possibly a little sad. “My Internet still isn’t hooked up at the apartment, and I needed to check my email. I can go, if you’d like.”

YES.

“No,” I sighed. “I’m not going to run you off. I just wish you hadn’t invited us to sit with you.”

“Well, Cade didn’t say he was here with you. I was just trying to be nice.”

“I’m sorry… I just … this is awkward. Cade doesn’t know—“

“—I’m not going to tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d like to keep this job, and besides, your personal life is none of my business. What happened between us is over. ”

His voice turned hard as he spoke. Over? Why did that feel like a punch to the stomach? His teeth were clenched, drawing my eyes to strong, smooth line of his jaw.

“You shaved,” I said. Clearly… no filter.

His jaw unclenched, and he looked at me in confusion. “Uh, yes, I did.”

We sat in silence, and I just couldn’t get myself to stop looking at him. His eyes were ocean water blue, and without the scruff he looked younger, less rugged sexy and more boy-next-door hotness.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and I realized I was biting down on the bottom one. God, I wanted to kiss him again.

I sprung up from my seat, “This was a bad idea. I’m going to go. Tell Cade I got sick or something.”

He stood, too. “No, Bliss, wait. I’m sorry. Don’t leave. I’ll… Shit, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll just sit here quietly, and you two can ignore me completely. I promise.”

At that moment, Lindsay stepped back up onto the small makeshift stage, and the lights came on, and people clapped.

If I were going to leave, I needed to do it now. If I got up in the middle of the set, Lindsay would see and she’d be pissed.

So against my better judgment, I sat back down.

Garrick kept his promise, and kept his eyes glued to his screen. I sat quietly as Lindsay did her sound check, my neck strained tightly to resist looking at him.

Cade arrived back right as Lindsay was introducing herself.

“Hey.” He whispered. “Randy was busing, and he let me borrow a towel. I figured this would be better than a bunch of napkins.”

Then he lifted one of my sticky feet into his lap, removed my shoe, and started wiping down my leg with the damp towel. I giggled when he passed a particularly ticklish section.

I heard Garrick stop typing.

On instinct alone, I looked at him, but he was looking at Cade… and at my legs. I cleared my throat, and pulled my foot back. I took the towel from Cade and said, “Thanks, I think I can get this. I don’t trust you not to tickle me.”

Garrick went back to his computer, Cade focused on Lindsay, and I ducked my head down to get a closer look at my feet. When I was sure they weren’t looking, I clenched by eyes shut and let out a silent scream. A real scream would have felt better, but I would take what I could get.

I recognized Lindsay’s first few songs, having heard her play several times before, both on the stage and just in the greenroom during rehearsal and between classes. She had this great, raw, acoustic sound, and her lyrics were always some kind of social commentary, calling people on their bullshit. Which is why when she leaned into the mike and introduced her next song, I was so incredibly surprised.

“This next one is a little bit different for me. The lovely owner of this establishment,” She pointed off to the side. “Wave Kenny.” He looked under duress, but he waved. “Anyway… Kenny made a request that I play at least one song that wasn’t… how did you put it, Kenny? Bitter or Political, I believe is what he said. And since, I’m incapable of writing anything like that, I’m singing a song written by a friend of mine who wishes to remain anonymous. It’s called Resist. ”

The song opened gently, with a simple progression of cords, similar to Lindsay’s normal sound. Then it turned, became mournful, passionate, almost desperate. She sang… and I wished I had left when I had the chance.

 

No matter how close, you are always too far

My eyes are drawn everywhere you are

 

The quiet conversations that had been happening before stopped. It was such a dramatic change that all eyes fixed on her. But I could swear that I felt one pair of eyes on me.

 

I’m tired of the way we both pretend

Tired of always wanting and never giving in

I can feel it in my skin, see it in your grin

We’re more. We always have been.

 

Think of everything we’ve missed.

Every touch and every kiss.

Because we both insist.

Resist.

 

His gaze was this physical weight pressing against my skin. My heart thudded quickly in my chest, and my breaths came shorter. I didn’t want to resist. I couldn’t help it. I looked.

 

Hold your breath and close your eyes

Distract yourself with other guys

It’s no surprise, your defeated sighs

Aren’t you tired of the lies?

 

But he wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t typing, but his eyes were fixed on his computer, and he seemed… unaware. Was it just me? Was I imagining it all?

 

Think of everything we’ve missed.

Every touch and every kiss.

Because we both insist.

Resist.

 

No matter how close, you are always too far

My eyes are drawn everywhere you are

 

Suddenly, I didn’t want to be here anymore. I couldn’t be this close to him. I was going to go crazy. It was stupid… even more stupid than having a one-night stand would have been, but I liked him. He didn’t like Shakespeare, and he rode a motorcycle, and he was my teacher… but I liked him.

 

I’m done. I won’t ignore.

I won’t pretend or resist.

I want more.

Chapter Ten

Lindsay finished out the last few chords, then stuck her tongue out and said, “Blech. Happy, Kenny?”

Cade laughed and gave a loud whoop! The crowd started clapping and whistling. I tried to raise my hands to join, but they were like lead in my lap.

I looked at Garrick, and this time he was looking at me. His eyes were dark, and when we connected, he made no effort to look away. Maybe I hadn’t been imagining his stare earlier. We watched each other as the clapping died down, and for the first time in my entire life I really understood that “heart beating out of your chest” thing because it felt like there was something inside of me, desperate to get out.

Before I went crazy, I ripped my eyes away, stood, and pulled Cade up by his elbow.

“Hey, what’s up?” He was so good at reading me, and I watched as his eyes went from amused to concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m just tired. Can you take me home?”

“Sure, of course.” He pressed a hand to my cheek like he was my mother checking my temperature. He barely took his eyes off me as he said, “Thanks for letting us share your table, Mr. Taylor. See you Wednesday.”

“It’s Garrick, Cade, please. You two have a good night.”

Garrick looked only at Cade as he spoke, which was probably for the best. With an arm wrapped around my shoulder, I let my friend lead me out an archway on the side of the property that led to the parking lot.

I’d never been so glad to climb into a rusty car that smelled faintly of oil and cheese. Cade climbed in beside me. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I promise, I’m just tired.”

“Okay.” He didn’t look convinced. “Let’s get you home then”

He turned the key, and nothing happened. No engine, no lights, nothing.

“Aww… shit.”

“What?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

“It means my car is a piece of crap.”

He turned the key again, and when nothing happened he slammed a palm into the steering wheel. I pulled my legs up into the seat and laid my head against my knees.

“Hold on a sec.” Cade climbed out of the car, and popped the hood. I stayed curled up in my seat trying to mentally erase the last 24 hours from my brain. Somewhere between analyzing every look Garrick had given me tonight and planning out what I would say and how I would act in our next class, I must have fallen asleep.

The next thing I knew, Cade was shaking me awake, and the car was definitely still not on.

I rubbed at my eyes, and climbed from the car.

“Sorry, I guess I was even more tired than I thought.”

“Listen, we can’t get the car started, and we’ve tried everything we can think of.”

My brain didn’t register the “we” until the hood started lowering, and Cade was still standing beside me.

And of course, there was Garrick again. Because the world just couldn’t make anything easier on me.

“We even tried jump-starting it using Mr. Taylor’s bike.”

“I told you, it’s Garrick, Cade.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. So anyway, since I don’t live far away…”

Oh lord. No. Please no. Cade was an RA in one of the dorms, which meant he could walk home. I, on the other hand, lived a few miles from campus.

“I asked Mr. Taylor, and he said he could give you a ride home. Turns out you guys even live in the same apartment complex.”

“You don’t say.” I tried to turn my gritted teeth into a smile. “That’s nice of him, but I can just call Kelsey to come get me. It’s no big deal.”

“But y’all are going to the same place…” Cade’s confusion was endearing, but I sort of wanted to kick him in the shins.

“Yeah, but—“

“Bliss,” Garrick interrupted. God, I would never get tired of hearing him say my name is his delicious accent. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind, and I’ll have you home in no time. I promise.”

He was looking at me like this was the most casual thing in the world. Like having my arms wrapped around him as he drove would be totally okay. Like I didn’t still have a bandage on my leg from the last time I’d been on that bike.

Cade yawned. He looked as tired as I felt. I knew if I pushed the issue, and wanted to wait for Kelsey, he would wait with me.

I rubbed at my eyes, and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t deep enough.

“Okay, fine. Thanks… Mr. Taylor. And I’ll see you tomorrow, Cade.”

Cade smiled, oblivious to my torment, and said, “Great!”

He placed a quick kiss on my forehead, said goodnight to us both, and then jogged across the road and onto campus.

I didn’t even bother with the calming breath this time. I knew it wouldn’t help. I set my shoulders, and turned to face him.

He watched me for a second, frowning, and then said, “You cannot call me, Mr. Taylor.”

Despite the tension between us, I laughed. It really was ridiculous… considering. “Okay… Garrick.”

There was no good way to do this, so he just handed me the helmet, and climbed on the bike. He didn’t have to tell me to be cautious of the exhaust pipe as I got on the bike, but he did anyway.

Tonight he had on a light jacket because a cold front (or well… as cold as it got in Texas) had just come through. I held onto the jacket instead of him. The ride was even scarier without something more solid to hold on to, but I refused to wrap my arms around him. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I would have the willpower to unwrap them if I did.

When we arrived, I was off the bike in seconds. I think I said goodbye. Honestly, I was so panicked that I just bolted. And he let me. When I slipped inside my apartment, I risked a glance back. He was still on the bike, and after a second, he started it back up, and took off. I watched him go, battling crazy urges to follow him.

No matter what I was feeling… there couldn’t be anything between us.

***

Wednesday, I waited in the greenroom until the very last minute, so that the class would already be full by the time I got there. I had my headshot and resume with me as assigned, and I took a seat with Cade way off to the side, so that there were about a dozen people between Garrick and I.

About a minute after nine, Garrick called the class to order.

“Alright, then. Like I said Monday—we’re not wasting any time. We’re jumping into the thick of things. Today, you’re doing mock auditions using cold readings from A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams. If you haven’t read it, you should be questioning your major right about now. I’ve split you into pairs. Those assignments along with the side you’ll be reading are on the table to my left. I’ll send you outside and you’ll have ten minutes to prepare before I call in the first group. You’ll note that the scene I’ve chosen from the play is the scene leading up to the climactic moment where Stanley rapes Blanche, his wife’s sister.”

“Dude, he rapes her?” That would be Dom, obviously one of those ones that should be reconsidering his major.

“Yes, Dom. Now the difficulty of auditions is that you often must depict climactic scenes without the benefit of having an entire performance to build to that point. You’re going into this emotionally blind. The moments before you audition are extremely important. You have ten minutes to find a connection with your partner and with your character. Good luck!”

He stepped to the side, and it was like Black Friday at Walmart as actors rushed the table, trying to grab a side and find out their partner. I wasn’t really feeling up to jumping into the mob, but Kelsey grabbed me by the elbow and didn’t give me much choice.

I grabbed the side, recognizing the scene. Garrick wasn’t kidding about starting right at the climax. Blanche is pretty much bat-shit crazy already. I glanced at the assignment sheet and wouldn’t you know it… I was paired with Dom.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, a dull throbbing beginning just over my left eye. Dom swung an arm over my shoulder a moment later.

“What do you know Blissful, we’re together again.”

I shrugged off his arm and headed toward the door. “Let’s get this over with, Dominic.”

When I exited the theatre, pairs were already camped out in various places throughout the hallway. The only spot left was directly in front of the theatre doors, which was almost guaranteed to make us the first group picked. That meant we’d have less preparation than everyone else. The thought made me feel like I was going to break out into hives, but clearly the world was against me today. Whatever, at least I’d be done with class early.

“Alright, Dom, let’s see what we’ve got.”

I spent most of the ten minutes explaining the play and the scene to Dom. He was one of those guys that had a good look and was pretty good at playing the over-confident douche bag (mainly because he was an over-confident douche bag), but that was about it.

“So, my guy is drunk, right?”

“Yes, Dom.”

“Sweet. And you’re crazy?”

I sighed. “Well, sort of. I’m a little delusional, and you destroy those delusions.”

“Great. Then I attack you.”

I rolled my eyes. What was the point?

“Yes, sure. Anyway, I’m going to open sitting in the chair, and you’ll enter from stage left, okay? I can’t imagine him making us do the whole scene because it’s kind of long.”

And that was all we had time for because the door opened and Garrick’s eyes fell on me. “Bliss, Dom, you ready?”

Dom pulled me to my feet against my will, and said, “Sure thing, Garrick.”

Ready was the exact opposite of how I felt. I hated being unprepared.

Garrick took our headshots and résumés and looked over them in silence for about a minute. I grabbed a chair and moved it to the center of the room and took a seat. I folded my audition side so that the paper wasn’t too big and unwieldy. He had us introduce ourselves as if we’d never met him, and then he gave us permission to begin.

The scene opened with Blanche dressed in all her finest clothes (including a tiara) talking to imaginary suitors at an imaginary party.

It took me a few seconds to get into the scene because my own feelings of dread and unease were so contrary to Blanche’s blissful ignorance. But once I got there, it was easy to block out the room around me and lose myself in her laughter and her dreams and her delusions. When Dom swaggered into the space, I had to admit, he made a great Stanley. Despite knowing absolutely nothing about the play, he exuded Stanley’s charisma, his absolute disregard for Blanche.

I used my unease about the situation with Garrick, letting it seep in and directing it towards Dom. After another half a page, Garrick stopped us.

“Good, good. Bliss, you started a little unsure, but you were dead on by the end. Dom, I think you’ve got a really good grasp on Stanley.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “But… I’m not feeling as much connection on your side as I am with Bliss. She’s aware of you at all times, adjusting her movements to your movements. I need to see you reacting a little bit more. Let’s skip forward to right before you re-enter from the bathroom. Start with Blanche calling Western Union, and let’s see if we can’t really concentrate on connecting with each other.”

I nodded, moving to the opposite side of the space where I had planned to put the imaginary telephone. He’d chosen possibly the hardest part for me to start at. We skipped right over the part where Stanley tears down the nice perfect world I’d dreamed for myself, and I had to convey the same fear and paranoia anyway.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Fear. Paranoia. How I would feel if someone found out about Garrick and me. Or if he found out I was a virgin. Hell… how I felt right before I stopped us from having sex. That was fear and paranoia at its finest.

Feeling a little more confident, I opened my eyes and pantomimed grabbing the telephone. Since I still had to hold my script, I had to forego pantomiming the earpiece and just pretend to talk into the receiver. I gasped into the phone, asking for an operator.

The fear felt so real that tears pressed at my eyes without any effort on my part. I babbled on, panic rising up and choking my words.

My voice broke over my calls for help. The feeling of being trapped came too easily. It was suffocating.

I heard Dom walk up behind me, and I froze. I backed away, and he stepped between the imaginary door and me. He leered at me, and I didn’t have to pretend the revulsion I felt.

I tried to leave, and he stepped in my way. I asked him to let me pass, but he stayed put. Laughing, he started slinking towards me, and I felt the thump of my heart jump slightly.

I slipped out of character just long enough to think that we were doing a really good job. Far better than I had thought we would. Then Dom’s grinning face entered my vision and I was right back in it.

I tried to flee from him, but he kept coming, still laughing. Then his hands closed around my forearms, pulling me up and against him.

I fought, contorting my whole body to try to pull away.

He pulled me against him, squeezing harder, hard enough that it actually hurt, and a little shiver of unease trailed up my spine.

His face was right up against mine, so that I felt the heat of his breath against my face. I was supposed to crumble, defeated, and he would take me off-stage for the rape scene, but that’s not how things actually went.

Dom dropped his script, gripped my neck and pulled me forward into a kiss.

Shocked, I pushed against him with my free hand, but he kept going, not realizing that it was me protesting, not Blanche. I pushed and writhed, but he was too strong, and his lips were pressed against mine so hard that I couldn’t say anything to make him stop. I was gearing up for my final move of protest, a swift knee to the junk, when Dom was ripped off of me.

I gulped in air, and saw Garrick, who was seething, release one of Dom’s arms that he’d had twisted back at an odd angle.

“Where exactly in this script did you see that particular stage direction, Dominic?” Garrick asked, his tone deadly quiet.

I wasn’t wasting time with the logical questions. I flew at Dom, shoving him backward.

“What the hell was that, Dom? The rape scene occurs offstage, you asshole!”

He grabbed my wrists as I went to push him again.

“Hey, I was trying to connect. I was improvising. That’s what actors do!”

Garrick’s hand came down on Dom’s arm, and he squeezed a little harder than was probably appropriate. Dom let go of my wrists immediately, and I backed away.

“Be that as it may,” Garrick began. “Actors also respect each other. Unless you’d like to be accused of assault, you okay something like that with your partner before hand.” I could see Garrick’s calm façade cracking. “Now go. You’re dismissed.”

I could tell Dom was pissed. He gave me a scathing look, and pushed open the door so hard that it banged against the wall outside. I just could not catch a break this week. Was the world dropping shit on everyone else or just me?

There was a feather light touch on my arm, and then Garrick was in front of me, cradling my arm in his hands. A bruise was already forming where Dom had grabbed me during the scene. Garrick ran a hand over his face, and then looked at me. He said, “I probably could have handled that better.”

I didn’t realize how much my head was still pounding until I laughed, and the movement sent pain ricocheting through my head. I closed my eyes on instinct. Garrick’s fingers brushed along my jaw, sending an earthquake of shivers across my skin from where we touched. I kept my eyes closed, because as long as they were closed, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? But if opened them, and I looked at his gorgeous face and I saw those lips… I’d be crossing into a completely different territory that was most definitely wrong, wrong, wrong.

A whispered, “Bliss…” was all the warning I had before his lips were on mine.

Chapter Eleven

I thought of how bad an idea the kiss was for exactly three seconds before I stopped thinking all together. His tongue swept into my mouth, searching and furious and demanding. It was passion in its rawest form. I’d always pretended to understand chemistry when directors talked about actors having it together on stage, but now I got it. Whatever happened when he touched me was like a chemical reaction—molecules changing, shifting, giving off heat.

God, there was so much heat.

Loud laughter that I recognized as Kelsey’s sliced through the haze in my mind, and I tore myself away from Garrick. There were other students outside waiting to come in. How long had I been in here alone with him?

He took a step forward to follow me, and I held up a hand.

“Stop! Stop it! You can’t just do that! We said we were forgetting about it! You said that, actually! You can’t say that and then do this!

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t look sorry. He looked like he wanted to do it again.

I shook my head, and shifted toward the door.

“Wait, Bliss, I am sorry. It won’t happen again, okay?”

“Okay.” That’s what I said, but this felt anything besides okay. He acted like I didn’t want that kiss as badly as he did, but hello! He had just as much to lose here as I did! Why was I the only one thinking about the consequences?

I exited to hear Dom mouthing off to a couple of the guys that had gathered close to the doors.

“The guy’s a complete dick. He acted like I was trying to rape her or something. It was just a kiss. Not like we haven’t done that before.”

I rolled my eyes. “And somehow it was even worse this time than it was before. Aren’t you supposed to get better with time, Dom?” His friends were laughing, but I still heard Dom call me a bitch.

I kept walking. I had just enough time to buy the biggest cup of coffee I could find before my next class.

The rest of the week was uneventful, thankfully. Garrick kept his distance, and I had enough going on to keep me distracted. We’d gotten our assignments in directing, which meant it was time to buckle down and read so that I could find a scene. Friday in Senior Prep we talked about our auditions, and he assigned us some reading about the Actor’s Equity Association. So, I spent most of the weekend scanning through every play I owned (and most of Cade’s) and reading the most boring breakdown of AEA known to the world.

The next week was signups for our first Mainstage Audition this term, and the next to last one for me ever. If I didn’t do well on Friday, I only had one more shot at making another show before graduation. I’d been in the first show of the year, and stage-managed another, but nothing since then. They’d already offered me Stage Manager of the last show of the year, but I’d been too scared to accept yet, in case I didn’t get a role in this. God, it was really starting to hit me. I was about to graduate, and my life was nowhere near where I thought it would be. When I started school three and a half years ago, I thought by now I’d have a plan. I thought I’d know positively what I wanted to do and where I was going. And if I was honest… I thought I would have met the guy I was going to marry by now. I mean, every married couple I knew met in college, and here I was only months away, and the idea of marriage at this point seemed preposterous to me.

It didn’t help that mom’s immediate question every time we talked was, “Have you met anyone yet?” I wondered briefly how she’d react if I told her the current state of my love life the next time she asked. Maybe she’d freak. Maybe she’d ask when we planned on getting married—it was hard to tell with Mom, sometimes.

How can people decide who they want to spend the rest of their life with at this age? I can’t even decide what to have for dinner! I can’t decide if I want to be an actor, even though I’ve already got 35,000 dollars in student loans telling me I sure as hell better want to be an actor.

By the end of audition week, the thing with Garrick was starting to feel like the “no big deal” I kept saying it was. I got to class at the very last minute and was usually the first out of the room. True to his word, he kept it professional in class, which really just meant we only interacted the bare minimum. I never saw him at Grind again, and we’d been there a lot.

He was in the auditions, but so was every other faculty member. And not even his presence could dampen my excitement for this show. As an actress, I was always drawn more to classical roles than contemporary (hence the Shakespeare obsession), and we were finally doing a Greek show (well… a translation of a Greek show, anyway). Phaedra wouldn’t have been my first choice, considering it was all about forbidden love, which was so not what I needed right now. But, at the very least, I had a great understanding of my character when I auditioned. Sure, Phaedra was lusting after her stepson, not her professor, but the feelings were the same.

I hadn’t wanted a role this badly in a long time.

When it was my turn to enter the theatre for auditions, I felt good, confident. I knew my lines. I knew my character. I knew what it was like to want someone you can’t have. And more than anything… I knew what it was to want and not want something all at the same time. I poured every ounce of lust and fear and doubt and shame into that minute and a half performance. I wrenched myself open in a way I never did in real life, because here… here I could vent and deal and pretend it wasn’t about me… pretend it was about Phaedra. I was more honest under the heat of those lights than I ever was in the light of day.

And in minutes it was over, and I was back in the greenroom, left wondering if it was enough.

When auditions were over, we all went out to celebrate. They would post callbacks in the morning, and that would be a whole new thing to worry about, but for now, it was out of our hands.

All together (mostly seniors and juniors), we took up an entire section of Stumble Inn. Even though we were at separate tables—we talked across the room to each other obnoxiously and didn’t give a damn how many people we annoyed.

We started the night with shots of tequila, which was a little too eerily close to my night here with Garrick, but I shrugged it off. I was here with friends. It would do me some good to loosen up and have some fun.

I was at a table with Cade and Kelsey, of course. Lindsay was there, too, along with Jeremy, a cute sophomore that I’d drunkenly made out with last year. He’d sort of tagged along a lot since then, but I was pretty sure he knew nothing was going to happen between us. These days he was starry-eyed for our resident sex-crazed beauty, Kelsey. Then there was Victoria, who could easily have passed for Kelsey and Lindsay’s lovechild. She had Kelsey’s boobs (and her sluttiness), but Lindsay’s I-Hate-Everyone-and-Everything attitude. And finishing out the table was Rusty, who was pretty much the king of all things random and hilarious.

Jeremy was the only one too young to drink, but the waiter didn’t even bother carding the whole table. She looked at Cade’s ID, and then just scanned the others. We ordered drinks, food, and then some more drinks.

I was feeling pretty good by the time talk came around to auditions.

It was Rusty, who broke the ice. “So… how about that incest play?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not incest, Rusty. They’re not related by blood.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “I’ve got a step-mom, and I would shit my pants if she came on to me.”

Kelsey laughed, “That probably has more to do with you being gay.”

“I’ve met your step-mom. She can come onto me anytime,” Cade said.

If we were different kinds of people, Rusty would have gotten pissed, maybe punched Cade in the arm… or the face. Instead, they high-fived.

“Seriously, though, how did everyone do?” Rusty asked. “I was crap. I’ll be lucky to get soldier number two or the servant.”

Kelsey butted in, “I would kill to play Aphrodite. I mean, who else has the boobs for it?”

Victoria raised her hand, “Um, hello? Do your eyes not work?” She gestured at her chest.

“Come on, do you even want Aphrodite?”

“Hell no,” Victoria said. “Doesn’t mean my boobs don’t resent you ignoring them.”

Wide-eyed, Jeremy said, “I’d never ignore your boobs.”

Everyone laughed. Jeremy generally stayed pretty quiet when we were all out together. I guess it could be difficult to keep up with us, considering we’d spent every waking moment with each other for the past four years, and he was the newbie to the group.

“What about you, Bliss?” Lindsay asked. “We all know you’re wetting yourself just thinking about this.”

I might have blushed, if my cheeks weren’t already flushed from the alcohol.

“I think it went well. I just… I really get Phaedra, you know?”

Kelsey burst out laughing, and I kicked her under the table.

Cade smiled at me, “What? Are you lusting after some family member I’ve never met?’

I pushed at his shoulder, and he laughed, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.

“I’m kidding, babe.”

“I just… I get what it’s like to want something, but to try and force yourself to really believe that you don’t. It doesn’t even have to be about love. It’s about wanting something you can’t have or something you don’t think you deserve. Hell, we want the parts that our friends get, even though they’re our friends and we should be happy for them. We sit in the audience and think about how we would have done a role. We want what we can’t have. It’s human nature.”

I might have gotten a little carried away. The table was quiet when I finished.

Until Rusty said, “You are clearly not drunk enough!” So, we did more drinking, and our food arrived, looking greasy and glorious.

“You guys do realize there is one major topic we haven’t talked about.” Victoria raised an eyebrow, and continued. “Professor I’m sex incarnate and could probably get you pregnant just by looking at you.”

Most of the guys around the table (minus Rusty) groaned, while most of the girls (minus me) plus Rusty said various differentiations of “Hell yes!”

Victoria fanned herself. “Seriously, that first day when he spoke, I think his accent alone nearly gave me an orgasm.”

I stayed quiet, and Kelsey did, too, shooting me a questioning glance.

I could excuse myself and go to the bathroom. Would that seem bizarre? It’s not like I hadn’t had a lot to drink.

“Kelsey, why aren’t you backing me up here?” Victoria asked. “Can I just call dibs for as soon as we graduate?”

I tried to keep my face passive.

Kelsey smiled, “Oh, yeah, he’s cute. But he’s a little too prim and proper for me. I like a guy who is a bit more dangerous.” She winked at Jeremy, and I’m sure his jaw would have detached if it dropped any lower.

“What? His motorcycle isn’t dangerous enough for you?” Cade asked.

“He has a motorcycle? I didn’t know that!” She shot me an accusing look like I was betraying her by not relaying this piece of information.

“What happened with him and Dom?” Lindsay asked me. “Dom is still bitching about how he manhandled him during your audition.”

Cade’s hand slipped from the back of the booth to around my shoulders, and he gave me a quick squeeze.

“Dom’s just a jackass. Mr. Taylor just pulled him off of me, that’s all.”

Rusty smiled and pointed at Cade and me, “You two are so cute. ‘ Oh Mr. Taylor this and Mr. Taylor that.’ I think you’re the only ones still treating him like a teacher instead of a piece of meat.”

I rolled my eyes. I never called him Mr. Taylor to his face, but it just felt weird to talk about him with other people and call him Garrick. I felt like they’d be able to read all my secrets on my face, and they’d know exactly how un-teacher-like I considered him.

Maybe I did need that bathroom break after all. I nudged Cade, and he slipped out of the booth, and let me go. Every step away from that booth, my anxiety eased. I’d stay gone for a few minutes, then I’d come back and they’d be on a completely different conversation, and everything would be fine.

I was walking by the bar when I heard my name.

“Bliss!”

I turned, but didn’t see anyone.

“Bliss!”

The voice was closer, and this time when I looked behind the bar, I saw him—Bartender Boy.

I smiled, and tried to appear happy to see him. But honestly… I couldn’t even remember his name. There were far too many other things that had taken my focus that night. As always when I thought of Garrick, my stomach flipped and I had to concentrate on not getting lost in the memories.

When we were across the bar from each other, Bartender Boy said, “Hey… I hope it’s not creepy that I remember your name.”

It was. A little.

“I promise not to be creeped out, if you’ll forgive me for not remembering yours.”

His lips pulled down in a frown briefly before he smiled and said, “Brandon.”

“Right, Brandon. Of course. I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.”

“Well, let me make it a little bit better.” He pulled out a glass and poured me a shot of tequila. “On the house.”

I felt awkward taking the shot alone, but I couldn’t very well decline it. So, I thanked him, shrugged, and downed it in one gulp.

I laughed, not because anything was funny, but just because it seemed like the thing to do.

“Listen,” Brandon started. “I don’t mean to come on too strong, but do you want to go out sometime?”

Did I want to go out with him? More importantly, did I want to sleep with him? Despite all the craziness with Garrick, I was still a virgin. And I still wished I wasn’t. Here was another opportunity to fix that… one that didn’t involve breaking school rules and risking expulsion. I looked at him. Kelsey had been right; he was cute. And he was definitely interested.

I tried to imagine what sleeping with him might be like. I tried to imagine the shedding of our clothes, his hands against my skin, his lips against mine. I tried, but every image I conjured was of Garrick doing those things, not Brandon.

Damn, why couldn’t I just snap my fingers and not be a virgin anymore? Why did sex have to be involved? And why was it that all I could think about was Garrick, but I’d even backed out of sex with him?

Why did my brain absolutely refuse to make sense?

Brandon answered his question for himself, “I’m guessing that’s probably a no. It usually is if it takes that long to answer.”

I smiled a tight, close-lipped smile. “Sorry. You seem really nice, but I’m just not that interested… right now.” Damn, I always did that. I sucked at confrontation, so I always added phrases like “right now.”

Brandon nodded, “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. I, uh, better get back to work though.”

He didn’t wait for my answer before he strode down the length of the bar to help a customer at the far end. Sighing, I made my way to the bathroom, where I splashed some water on my face.

It didn’t help the chaos in my brain, but I could feel the alcohol tingling in my stomach, and that at least made me feel okay with the chaos.

I returned to the table, where another two shots were waiting for me, courtesy of Cade, and thankfully the conversation was on to some other gossip that didn’t involve Garrick. By the time we’d had the next round, my skin felt like a warm blanket and my throat ached from laughing at things that may or may not have actually been funny. We were all gone enough that our conversation had devolved into fragments, inside jokes, and laughter.

“I am so drunk,” Rusty started, “That I just want to sit in my car and play my accordion until I’m sober.”

My laughter was embarrassingly loud. “You have an accordion?”

“Hell, yes, I do. Wanna listen to me play?”

“Of course!”

I left my wallet with Cade, so he could pay for mine. I gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek as a reward.

“Oh! Me too! Me too!” Kelsey cried. She gave her wallet to Cade, too, with a head pat instead of the kiss, and Rusty wrapped an arm around each of us.

“Take notes, boys! The ladies always love a man who can play an instrument!”

Lindsay snorted, “Your instrument doesn’t even like girls, Rusty!”

“Doesn’t mean they don’t like it!”

I’m sure the volume in the bar lowered by half when we were gone, but I couldn’t tell the difference. It was still loud in my head. After a few minutes, the rest of the group joined us outside on the hood of Rusty’s car, where he was playing his accordion and singing a song he said was French (but I’m pretty sure was just gibberish).

It didn’t really matter to us. After a few minutes, we knew the gibberish enough to sing along. We serenaded the bar’s patrons as they meandered to their cars at 2 AM. We sang in English and gibberish. We sang Britney Spears and Madonna and Phantom of the Opera. Cade did some ridiculous rap where he rhymed maybe with scabies. And we continued serenading until they were all gone, and the owner came out to tell us to get lost.

We were all still too drunk to drive, except for maybe Jeremy, but none of our cars were big enough to fit us all.

So on a whim I said, “Let’s go to my place. It’s about half a mile away, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got vodka in my freezer.”

So with a battle cry of “Vodka!” we were off.

I came to regret that night later, but then, I just hadn’t wanted it to end.

 

Chapter Twelve

Somewhere between the bar and my apartment, I lost my shoes. They were low heels, but they were killing my feet all the same. So, I simply bent over and pushed them off.

“Whoa, babe, what are you doing?”

I fell into Cade, giggling. I thought I was drunk before, but now that a little time had passed… It had really hit me. I was possibly farther gone than I’d ever been. “Shoes are stupid. Why do people wear them?”

He laughed, “So they don’t step on a nail and get tetanus, that’s why.”

“Wear. Where. Wear. W’s are wwweeird.”

He laughed, so I laughed, even though I had no idea what was funny.

“You’re adorable. Come here. I’ll give you a piggyback ride home to save your feet.”

“Yay!”

He squatted, and I leapt onto his back. With my high heels in his hands, we teetered down the road. When we walked into my parking lot, I was singing a made up song that went something like,“Cade is my hero! Zero to hero!”

“What do you mean zero? I was never a zero!”

“Cade is my best friend! One day we’re gonna be on West End! His car smells like cheese! I just wanna give him a squeeze!”

Rusty called, “Give him a squeeze in private!”

“And Rusty is a douche! And the wind in my hair smells like whoosh!”

Cade laughed, “Don’t you mean sounds?”

“What sounds?”

“Nevermind,” He chuckled.

I saw my apartment come into view.

“Aw, crap. I forgot my purse.”

“I’ve got it, babe.”

“You do? You’re the best!”

I gave him a loud, smacking kiss. I’d been aiming for his cheek, but I think it landed somewhere on his neck.

About that time, I heard Jeremy shout, “Hey! Mr. T! What’s up?”

“There’s a wrestler here?” I asked.

“Nah, it’s Mr. Taylor.”

I squeaked, let go of Cade’s shoulder, and leaned back to look for him. In doing so, I threw off Cade’s balance, and the both of us toppled to the ground, him on top of me.

I groaned.

“Shiiiit. Cade weighs a lot. Way more than I thought!” I moaned/sang.

I felt adrift, my world rocking like I was out at sea.

Cade said, “Hey Mr. Taylor.”

“Hello Cade. You all right?”

“Sure thing.” He pushed himself up onto his knees, and then stood. When he tried to pick me up too, I got a good look at Garrick staring down at me. His hair was all sexy and his grin so gorgeous.

It wasn’t fair that he looked so good.

I groaned and covered my eyes.

“Why does the world hate me?”

They both laughed, but it wasn’t funny. SERIOUSLY. Why does the world hate me?

“Come on, babe.” Cade tried to pull me up, but my body felt dead.

“I don’t think I can stand,” I told him. “I feel like a wet noodle.”

“Do you now?” Cade’s amused face looked away from me, and my eyes drifted shut. “Do you mind, Mr. Taylor?

The next thing I knew I was in the air and I was flying. I leaned to my left, and there was the side of Garrick’s face. It was such a pretty side of a face. My arm was around his shoulder, and together, he and Cade were carrying me. Garrick took hold of me completely while Cade crouched and dug through my purse for my keys.

I laid my head against Garrick’s chest.

“You smell so good. Why do you always smell so good?”

Cade laughed, “Oookay. And that’s our cue to let the professor go.”

I let go of Garrick, and Cade’s arm wrapped around my middle.

“Sorry, Mr. Taylor.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Listen, she’d be horrified if she knew you saw her like this. I swear she’s not normally like this. She’s just been really stressed lately for some reason.”

“It’s fine, Cade. I promise. Goodnight, Bliss.”

I perked up and snatched the sleeve of his shirt. “No, stay.”

Rusty popped up then, his accordion still in hand. “Yeah, Garrick, stay. Bliss Baby has vodka.”

Garrick smirked at me. “I think Bliss Baby has had enough. And thank you for the offer, but there are still some lines I shouldn’t cross.” His eyes met mine, and I knew he wasn’t just talking about the party. That sobered me up a little, not much, but enough to know that I was making a fool of myself.

“You guys be careful. Have fun.”

Then he walked away, and Cade helped me inside and on to my couch.

The guys went about raiding my fridge, and Kelsey sat by me on the couch, and laid across my lap.

“So, your lover was looking pretty great tonight.”

“Kelsey! Shut up!”

“What? No one heard me.”

I looked around. She was right. The guys were stealing chips out of my pantry. Lindsay and Victoria were pouring vodka into glasses of orange juice. When I was sure no one was paying attention, I looked back at Kelsey.

“He always looks good. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. One day I’m going to spontaneously sexually combust and jump him in the middle of class.”

She laughed, “As interesting as that would be…. you know it’s a terrible idea. Besides… you’ve already had him. Apparently he was good enough to make you want him again, but it’s not like he’s a mystery you’re dying to puzzle out. You just need a distraction.”

I nodded half-heartedly, even though I was pretty sure nothing could distract me from wanting Garrick. And what Kelsey didn’t know was that he was still a mystery to me. And God, did I want to play Nancy Drew.

Kelsey’s eyes gleamed, and she pushed herself up and off of my lap.

“Do you know what game I’ve never played?” She asked the entire room. “Spin the bottle!”

Victoria looked skeptical. “You’ve never played Spin the Bottle? Seriously?’

Kelsey shrugged, then turned to peer at me over her shoulder, and winked. “What can I say?” She continued. “I was a late bloomer. By the time these ladies came in,” she gestured to her ginormous boobs, “People had stopped needing a game as an excuse to make out.”

Cade raised an eyebrow at her. “And we need an excuse now?”

She hopped off the couch, and settled Indian style on the ground, grabbing a half-full water bottle off the coffee table. “Of course not. But it’s the game that’s exciting.”

She grabbed my arm and tugged. I landed on the floor in a heap, laughing hysterically.

“See?” Kelsey said. “Bliss is already having fun. Vic, bring the vodka! We’ll make this a little more interesting. This is adult Spin the Bottle. Which means none of that peck on the lips stuff. I wanna see tongue.”

“I swear, Kelsey, you’re more of a perv than most guys I know. “ Lindsay said.

“Thank you! Now, I’m not unreasonable. You can choose to do a peck instead…. but you have to do a shot as penalty.”

Most of the boys looked relieved. Rusty looked disappointed.

“There are far more girls here than guys,” Lindsay pointed out.

Victoria grinned, “Perhaps we should go find Garrick and make him join us.”

I blanched, “No! Absolutely not.”

“God, Bliss, you’re such a prude.”

Kelsey sent me a knowing smile. And I definitely needed that distraction. I reached forward and set the bottle spinning.

It landed on Rusty, and I didn’t even give him a chance to opt out of the kiss. I leaned across the circle, grabbed his collar and pulled him toward me. I was drunk enough that the kiss was a little sloppy, but we were all drunk, so what did it matter? I kissed him for several seconds longer before pushing him back down and sliding back to my seat.

Rusty whistled, “Damn girl. If I weren’t 110% gay, I would ask you out right now.”

I threw my head back and laughed. It felt good to let go.

Rusty went next, and poor Jeremy was the next victim. He grabbed the bottle of vodka and said, “No offense, Rusty, but you’re just not my type.” He smiled, took a big gulp, and then planted a lightning fast peck on Rusty’s lips.

We oooh’ed like middle schoolers.

A knock sounded on the door, and Kelsey hopped up and skipped down the hall. She returned with ten more people from our department.

“You don’t mind, do you?” She asked me. It was just like Kelsey to invite first and get permission later. I shook my head anyway, way past caring.

“Excellent, take your seats ladies and gentlemen. It’s time for some debauchery.”

And there was really no other term for it. In a matter of minutes, I’d seen so many friends making out with friends, regardless of whether they liked each other or drove each other crazy or thought of each other as siblings. For one night we put everything aside and let a bottle of Aquafina determine our lives.

The next time the bottle landed on me, the spinner was a girl. The guys all booed us when we both chose the penalty shot. But they cheered at our peck anyway. Laughing, I spun the bottle again and it landed on Cade.

Cade had that cute boy-next-door look, right down to the boyish grin he fixed on me now. I shrugged and crawled toward him. Kneeling before him, I put my hands on his shoulders and leaned in.

The kiss was just like any other kiss at first… and then suddenly it wasn’t. Cade’s hand cradled my head and his other pulled me in at the waist. His lips moved against mine feverishly, desperately, like the world was about to end and this was his last chance at happiness.

The kiss was just hard enough to make warmth uncurl in my stomach, but gentle enough that I felt like I was being worshipped. For a moment, I forgot where I was and who I was with and I just basked in the heat, in the pleasure.

Then someone whistled, and piece-by-piece the world came back to me. I opened my eyes to stare at my friend, who had kissed me like he wanted to be anything but.

I returned to my side of the circle, ignoring my friends’ commentary on the kiss. Dazed and way beyond confused, I retreated into myself through the next few turns.

I could feel eyes on me. Cade’s for sure, probably Kelsey’s, too. But my mind was focused on holding it together, because I was one crack away from disintegrating.

We were drunk. It probably didn’t mean anything. And I was so messed up over Garrick, that I was desperate for contact with anyone. That was it.

It didn’t mean anything.

We’re still friends. Cade and I will always be friends.

I stayed for a few more minutes, until my head was spinning too much for me to ignore. I was feeling a bit sick to my stomach.

I stood and excused myself, telling everyone to stay as long as they’d like. I told them where to find extra blankets and pillows if they wanted to stay and crash, and then I retreated into my bedroom, crawling under the covers, and dropping the forced smile.

I told myself things would be better in the morning.

Chapter Thirteen

When morning came, Kelsey was passed out beside me in bed, and there were five people in my living room and one in my bathtub. I smiled at that for half a second before my hangover not-so-gently reminded me how much I hated the world.

I brushed my teeth and splashed my face with water before returning to my room. I heard my front door open and close quietly, and I peeked my head out of the curtain to see who it was.

Cade had returned with enough greasy breakfast to feed us all.

I took a deep breath and entered the room.

“You are a life-saver!” I whispered.

He looked up, smiling, and handed me a massive bacon, egg, and cheese burrito.

“How are you feeling?”

I frowned. “Like I got hit by a bus. A really heavy one, full of sumo wrestlers.”

I hopped up on the counter, and regretted it for another ten seconds as my head spun. He took a seat on the barstool below me.

The burrito was perfect. Thick, fluffy tortilla, hot eggs, delicious salsa.

“I am in love with this burrito. I would marry it if I didn’t want to eat it so badly.”

“The tragedy of true love,” Cade whispered.

I sort of smiled and he sort of smiled, and for the first time in years, I felt awkward with Cade. I looked away and focused on the people littered around my living room.

“How was everything after I went to bed?”

“More of the same. If he wasn’t already, Jeremy’s most definitely head over heels for Kelsey. Victoria left half a pack of cigarette butts on the ground outside. And Rusty was atrociously sick in your bathroom.”

I wrinkled my nose.

“Don’t worry. It’s all cleaned up. I knew you’d have a heart attack if you woke up to that.”

I swallowed and a weight settled deep in my stomach.

“You’re too good to me, Cade.”

He just shrugged. He’d always been too good to me.

“Listen,” I started. “About last night…”

He scratched at the back of his head, and his mouth pulled up in a half-hearted smile.

“Yeah, I guess we should talk about that, huh?”

His hands settled onto the counter beside me, like he needed to brace himself for what was coming. I cleared my throat, but it didn’t make it any easier to talk. “So… you?”

His hands tightened until his knuckles turned white. Then, all at once, he let go and answered, “Yeah, I do. I have… for a while.”

I looked up, but his face was unreadable.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because… I was scared. You’re my best friend. And you almost never date… I just didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Was I interested? I could feel nonsensical tears pressing at the corner of my eyes, and I blinked them away. Cade was a great guy. And I loved spending time with him. And the kiss had definitely been good. It made sense to like him. I wanted to like him, but… Garrick was the but. Could I stop thinking about Garrick? Stop wanting him?

I heard Cade sigh. “You’re not interested, are you?”

God, did his eyes have to be so expressive? I could read every disappointment, every insecurity in them. I loved him; that much was for sure. And I think I could one day be in love with him, but I had to get rid of my feelings for Garrick first. If this had happened last semester, would I even be torn?

“Honestly, Cade? I don’t know. Is maybe a terrible answer?”

He thought about it for the moment, and I couldn’t take the silence.

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I think you’re pretty perfect actually. I just… you’re my best friend, too, and I’m not sure. I need to be sure.”

“I want you to be sure, too.” He took a deep breath and smiled. It was a good smile, but not as bright as I was used to from him. “I can live with maybe.”

***

When I arrived at the theatre Monday morning, the callback list had already been posted.

Cast (and Callback) lists are a monster in and of themselves. It’s just a simple piece of paper on the wall, but surround it with people who already know your fate and it becomes like walking to the gallows. Eyes turned toward me. I struggled to gauge their reactions. Were they looking at me with pity? Were they just concealing their excitement? Two feet apart, and I existed in an entirely different world than them, than those people who’d already read that slip of paper. And when I would join them, the pressure wouldn’t stop. At the list, you couldn’t show emotion. You couldn’t cry over a part that wasn’t yours or bitch over whose part it became. You couldn’t scream out of excitement or out of rage. You just had to read it, and not emote at all. Which might not seem that difficult, except that we are actors. Emoting is what we do.

Cade met me a few feet away.

“Have you already looked?”

He shook his head. “No, I was waiting for you.”

Things were a still awkward from when we’d talked the day before. We hadn’t quite figured out what that all-important maybe meant for us. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. We were two actors, about to face rejection or another battle. We were full to the brim of anxiety, even if we tried not to show it, and there wasn’t any room for the other multitude of emotions we had going on between us at that moment.

He took my hand, and I didn’t let myself worry about what that could mean. I needed the comfort. I needed him to balance me. And I was fairly certain he needed the same.

We took the last few steps toward the list quickly, and the crowd there adjusted to let us through.

Hippolytus was first on the list; he was the step-son.

There were seven boys called back, Cade and Jeremy among them.

I looked up at him, and he was completely stoic. Not a thing showed on his face. Not excitement, not nerves. Seven meant the director wasn’t sure. It meant he hadn’t seen what he wanted yet. It meant that the part was anyone’s game, whoever stepped it up the most during callbacks.

I squeezed Cade’s hand, and immediately he squeezed back.

I know that people talk about their hearts racing all the time, and that it doesn’t even seem like that big of a deal. But as I looked back at the list, my heart was racing like my whole life rested on that finish line. Sounds were fuzzy in my ears, and my vision had narrowed, and I felt like I was on the verge, on the edge of something terrifying and glorious that could mean flying or falling—success or disaster.

My eyes found the bolded PHAEDRA right below that.

And then I saw my name, nothing but my name, like it was the light at the end of the tunnel. It was better than crossing any finish line. It was like taking that first breath of air when I’d felt certain I was drowning, certain I was dying. I stifled the relief and the joy, because people were watching, and because this was only a callback list. It only meant they hadn’t ruled me out yet.

Cade’s other hand joined our already linked ones, covering mine completely.

My eyes kept scanning down.

THESEUS

That couldn’t be right. Theseus was a character. My eyes went back up, searching for what I’d missed. There were the seven names under Hippolytus. And there, under Phaedra, there was only mine.

They weren’t calling anyone back.

It was just me.

I’d gotten the part.

And then, breaking all the rules of the list, I screamed. Cade laughed, and picked me up at the waist, spinning me around. People around us were clapping, and I knew some had heard rumors of our kiss based on the way they were looking at us. But for a moment, for one blissful moment, none of that mattered.

I’d gotten the part.

Chapter Fourteen

I went to Senior Prep in a daze.

They always called people back. Even if they were pretty sure they knew who they wanted, it was a chance to be certain, to see the best one more time.

But they cast me outright, which meant they were already certain.

Something swelled in my chest, and before I could help it there were tears building in my eyes. I took a second to myself behind the curtains before entering the space for class.

I tried deep breaths, but that didn’t release any of the pent-up emotion in my chest. So, I did the next most logical thing.

I danced.

I danced without music. I screamed without sound. I celebrated in silence, in the dark, behind the curtains where no one could see.

Except as my luck would have it, someone totally saw.

“I’m guessing you saw the list.”

I froze, my butt still cocked to the left from my last celebratory hip swing. Slowly, I righted my posture, and turned as I said, “Hi Garrick.”

His lips were pursed and his eyes wide, and I knew he was working hard not to laugh. “Hello Bliss. Congratulations.”

My hair was everywhere due to the aforementioned dancing, so I tucked it behind my ears as best I could. “Thank you. I’m, uh, pretty excited.”

“As you should be. Your audition…” He stepped closer, and as always, his presence stripped away the embarrassment and any other emotion, and replaced it with heat, with desire. “Your audition was fantastic. There was no competition.”

I swallowed, but the lump in my throat remained. My thank you came out as a whisper.

“But Friday night…“

“Oh, God—“

“As ridiculously cute as you were, please don’t get that drunk again. Eric will need you to be at your absolute best for this role.”

“Of course,” I nodded, petrified. “Absolutely. I promise.”

“And… I was worried about you, too.”

“Oh.”

His eyes flicked around my face, darting from my no doubt crazy hair to my eyes to my lips, then quickly down to my leg, where the burn had healed and left a dark pink scar. “I don’t like being worried about you.”

My heart felt like it was going to make a jailbreak from my ribcage if I didn’t do something soon. This was dangerous territory. There were things rearing up inside me, things beyond attraction, beyond an obsession with his looks and his body and his accent—dangerous things. His fingers touched a curl near my cheek, and the proximity of his skin made me feel like I was on the verge of explosion.

I smiled and tried to lighten the situation. “You should probably worry about yourself. Calling me ‘cute’ again is bound to get you injured, possibly maimed for life.”

He took a step closer to me, and the world felt like it was shrinking around the two of us. The hand in my hair swayed closer, his knuckles brushing my cheek. He lowered his voice and said, “Since I can’t very well call you the alternative here, cute will have to do for now.” My mind flashed back to the first time he’d called me ridiculously cute. I’d had my pants trapped around my knees. He’d then called me ridiculously sexy and helped me take them off.

Clearly, I needed to learn to stop saying the first thing that popped into my mind. But I couldn’t think about that at this moment, because my mind was stuck on his last two words… for now, for now, for now.

He cleared his throat, and stepped back, dropping the curl he’d had trapped between his fingers. “Why don’t you go take a seat for class?”

I nodded, slipping past him and through the curtains.

There was a seat saved for me between Kelsey and Cade, both of whom were wearing identically huge grins. I smiled, shaking off the encounter with Garrick to bask once more in my joy. Kelsey leaned in to hug me when I took my seat, and whispered in my ear, “I guess being hot for teacher really did help you get into character. I’m so proud of you, honey.”

I glared half-heartedly, but nodded my thanks. And then turned to Cade.

We’d held hands earlier, and hugged when I found out, but I wasn’t sure what the protocol was now. Living in the world of maybe was… complicated.

Before, Cade and I were effortless. Being with him was just as low pressure as being alone. And now suddenly there was this intensity to everything we did and everything we said. Like my life had been italicized.

When we were touching, I noticed. When we weren’t touching I noticed. And suddenly I could find no in between. No maybe.

So I froze.

We were both waiting, stuck in that area between action and refusal. We were nothing. We were inaction. Then Garrick called the class to order, and the awkwardness was postponed for a bit longer.

I knew… I knew eventually we’d have to get over this… figure out some way to co-exist again. You could only postpone so long before shit hit the fan. But surely I could wait a little longer. Today was an exciting day, no reason to rain on my own parade.

When class ended, Eric was waiting for me outside.

“Good morning, Bliss. Can I speak to you for a moment?”

I blinked, caught off guard.

“Of course.”

He opened the theatre door, and gestured for me to re-enter. I followed him through the curtains, and he waved me toward a seat directly beside Garrick. I perched on the seat carefully and glanced between them, unsure of what was happening. Then it dawned on me.

He’d found out.

Why else would he want to speak to Garrick and I?

Oh my God. What was going to happen to me?

Would they kick me out of the department? Out of the school? At the very least, I’d probably lose my scholarship. How would I pay tuition then?

There was a roaring in my ears, and the pull of gravity felt so heavy that I felt like I would sink right through the floor. Garrick would probably lose his job. What would he do then? He’d go back to Philadelphia or London or somewhere and I’d never see him again.

I turned to him, trying to convey my remorse with a look, but he was… smiling?

“Bliss,” Eric said, “I have to admit I’m surprised.”

Air left my lungs in a rush. “S-sir, I’m so—“

“You’ve certainly done well in your time here over the past few years, but I had no idea you were capable of the kind of performance you gave in auditions.”

I was still clenching my teeth and holding my breath against the coming shame, so it took me a moment to realize it wasn’t coming after all.

“You’ve always been a bit too in your head, I suppose. Controlled. Careful. Mechanical, might be the best word for it. But in those auditions—you were living in the moment. You were feeling instead of thinking. I saw shades of emotion in you—strength and vulnerability, desire and disgust, hope and shame—that were quite simply captivating. I don’t know what you’re doing or what you’ve done, but please do continue. You’re much better when you make bold choices.”

Unbidden, my eyes locked with Garrick’s. Did he know? Had he guessed that it was him? That this thing between us had me feeling things I’d never felt and taking risks I would have balked at not long ago. My night with him was possibly the only impulsive thing I’d ever done.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re quite, welcome. I’m very much looking forward to working with you. Speaking of which, I’d like you to come to callbacks on Wednesday. We’d like you to read some scenes with Hippolytus, so that we can get a good idea of chemistry and look on stage.”

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

“Great, Garrick will be there to answer any questions for you, as well. He’s going to be assistant directing this production, so if you need anything you can come to either of us.”

He patted me lightly on the shoulder, and took off. Then I was alone with Garrick. My heart was still thudding impatiently, either because of the fear that we’d been caught or just because I was sitting beside the one guy I wanted but couldn’t have.

“I can’t remember if I mentioned it, but I’m really proud of you,” Garrick said.

“Thank you. I think I’m still in shock.” I was still in shock from all of this.

“Well, get used to it. From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’d have to worry about Stage Managing unless you just wanted to. You’re an actor, Bliss, whether you believe it or not. ”

I nodded, filing that thought away.

“Have you thought more about that? What you’d like to do after graduation?”

I picked at the frayed threads on the knee of my jeans.

“Not really…”

“Well, if you want to talk about it, you know you can always come to me.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, unable to quite put into words how preposterous that idea was.

He said, “I’m serious. You act like we couldn’t possibly be friends.”

If possible, my eyebrow arched even more. The thought of being friends with him… it was beyond imagining. I didn’t think about how my friends looked naked. I didn’t beat myself up over not sleeping with friends.

He laughed under his breath and shook his head. “Okay, okay. So maybe friends is jumping the gun, but I do hope you’ll come to me if you need anything… anything at all.”

The undercurrent of yearning I felt for him then was different than any of the other pulls toward him I’d felt before. The desire to be with him was still there, but now I wanted more than that. I wanted to curl up in his arms just to rest my head, just to feel his comfort.

Heaven help me, but I wanted my professor to be my boyfriend.

Chapter Fifteen

Eric was shuffling through papers, searching for something when I entered the auditorium on Wednesday. “Oh, Bliss, you’re early as always. That’s great. I seem to be missing my notes, so I’m going to run back upstairs to my office. Take a seat with Garrick and just relax for a moment.”