Despite the fact that I already had a part, I was a nervous wreck for these callbacks. What if everyone expected me to be perfect? What if my audition was totally a fluke? I watched Eric leave through the backstage door and wondered… What if he changed his mind?

I took a seat on the row below Garrick, wishing I’d gone and killed some time in the greenroom with the actors waiting and prepping for their second round of auditions. When he leaned down toward me, I said, “Hey… friend.”

I’d given up trying not to be awkward, and was just embracing it instead.

He laughed, which I guess was good. It certainly could have been worse. He said, “Not quite believable, but A for effort.”

“Someone’s an easy grader.”

“Someone just has a soft spot where you are concerned.” He was leaning down towards me and even though his face was a good foot away from me, I swear I felt those words like he’d whispered them into my ear. “Sorry,” he replied almost immediately. “Sometimes I just forget.”

I said, “Me too.” But that was a lie. I never really forgot. I wanted to. I wished that I could forget about the miles separating us, and just let myself be there, only a foot away, but I couldn’t. He cleared his throat, and this time I wasn’t imagining his closeness, he was inches from my ear.

“I have to ask you something.”

“Okay,” came my breathy reply.

“Cade.”

I turned, confused, and immediately leaned back because I’d brought our faces too close together.

“That’s not a question.”

“You’re still with him?”

“With him?”

“I just—I can’t tell. You still sit together in class, but it’s different now. So, I thought maybe you two had broken it off.”

He thought Cade and I were dating? How freaking oblivious was I? The whole world apparently noticed my best friend’s feelings for me. So much for being like Nancy Drew, I was clearly the Shaggy and Scooby Doo of this scenario.

“There was nothing to break off,” I told him.

“What?”

“Yes! Cade and I aren’t together. We never have been.” His eyes were wide, and his head tilted in that way that said he didn’t believe me. “Is that what you’ve thought this whole time? That I cheated on him with you?”

Oh, my God. The guy I may or may not have been falling for thought I was a slut. Could things be any more screwed up?

His head was shaking back and forth, but I wasn’t sure if that was a no or just him trying to puzzle this out. “I don’t know what I thought. You’re always together, and he touches you, he’s always touching you. Believe me, I’ve noticed. I’d just assumed that was why… well, why you ran out that night.”

“I didn’t run out because of Cade. I had to get my cat…”

“Bliss, I’m not an idiot.”

God, this was it. Somehow, I thought I’d gotten away with that horrible excuse. I mean, obviously, it hadn’t completely put him off like I’d originally thought. But he’d always known it was excuse, he just had the reason wrong. And I couldn’t let him know the real reason, not now, not here in this theatre where we were supposed to be professional (though I’m fairly certain professional had already been kicked to the curb).

“I have a cat! I do!” Damn it… why couldn’t I ever remember my imaginary cat’s gender? “ Um… she’s gray and adorable and her name is… “ I said the first thing that popped into my head, “Hamlet.”

I was a genius. I couldn’t even invent a girl cat with a girl name. It’s like there was this bridge in my brain between the rational and the absurd, and somehow I had burned it.

“You have a cat named Hamlet?”

“I do.” Kill me now. “I definitely, definitely do.”

That was it. I was going to have to get a cat.

“Fine. So, if you’re not dating Cade, what’s going on between the two of you?”

I could feel heat leeching into the skin of my neck. “Nothing.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

I was a terrible liar. My ears probably looked like I’d spent an hour in a tanning bed. “It’s nothing. It’s just something that happened Friday when I was… how do you British people say it? Pissed? Sloshed?”

He sat back away from me, but left his hands clenched on the back of my seat. “Did you sleep with him?”

“What? No!”

He didn’t lean back toward me, but his grip on the chair loosened. One of his knuckles brushed against my arm. “Good.”

“Garrick…” He was going to that place we weren’t supposed to go.

He smiled cheekily. “What? Just because I can’t have you right now, doesn’t mean I’m okay with him having you.”

My brain tripped over that right now phrase again, but I forced my thoughts away from it. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just refer to me like property to be owned.”

“Can’t we own each other?”

If brains could have orgasms, I’m pretty sure this was what it would feel like. I shouldn’t like it, but there was possessiveness in his words that was echoed in his dark eyes, and it sent shivers down my spine until my fingers felt numb with their emptiness. I couldn’t answer his question, so I asked my own. “What has gotten in to you? I thought you promised me we wouldn’t do this again.”

He pulled his hands through his hair, his curls sticking out in adorable ways that made my stomach flip-flop.

“I don’t know. I just… I’ve been going crazy thinking about the two of you together.”

“We kissed. Nothing else.”

He flinched back like I’d said Cade and I were getting married and having a houseful of children. I couldn’t look at his face. It made me want to do insane things. I repeated myself, “It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t want anyone else to kiss you.”

“Garrick…” I was starting to hate the warning tone in my own voice. If he kept pushing like this, I wouldn’t be able to say no much longer. I was going to throw myself at him, most likely just in time for Eric to walk back in.

“I know I’m not being fair. I’m being a right bastard, actually. I keep telling myself to leave you alone, but the truth is… I’m not sure I can. And now that I know you’re not with Cade…”

“What are you saying?”

The backstage door creaked, and I realized how close we were. My heart thrumming like a plucked guitar string, I moved over a few seats seconds before Eric re-entered the space.

He held up his notebook triumphantly. “Got it! And I brought down a real script for you, Bliss, so you don’t have to use the sides.”

I fought to calm my heart when Eric handed me the play.

Don’t look at Garrick. Don’t look at him.

It didn’t matter… I was hyper aware of him. Even if I moved several rows away from him, I was certain I would know every time he shifted or breathed or looked at me.

The small book felt good in my hands, still warm from Eric’s grip, and I had to resist the urge to begin pouring over the words that very second to distract me from Garrick. The Stage Manager, Alyssa, who was a year younger than me, came in the room to announce that we were ready to begin whenever Eric was.

He nodded the go ahead, and then turned to me. “Bliss, we’re starting with Hippolytus. I’m going to have them perform their monologues one more time, then I’ll have you jump up there. Just stick with what you were doing in your monologue. Play the objective—you want him, but your shame, your fear is your own obstacle.“

I glanced at Garrick. Should be simple enough.

Alyssa came back in, Jeremy walking calmly in her wake. She took a seat at the tech table, and he stood center stage, his shoulders back, his chin up.

He looked good. I smiled in pride at him. Our little sophomore.

“Hi Jeremy. I’d like to start by seeing your monologue one more time, just to get things going. Then we’ll see how you do with Bliss.”

Jeremy cleared his throat. Paused for a moment.

I loved that moment before. It was the height of anticipation and hope. It was like diving off a cliff, knowing what would come after was terrifying and beautiful and the point of living. That moment… it was addicting.

 

I have let myself run on too far.

I see my reason has given way to violence.

 

There was desperation in Jeremy’s performance as he began, but he sounded young. He looked young. When he spoke, his words and his emotions came rushing out. Like once he’d begun his confession of love for Aricia, there was no stopping the outpour.

 

My soul, so proud, is finally dependant.

For more than six months, desperate, ashamed,

Bearing throughout the wound with which I’m maimed,

I steeled myself towards you, and myself, in vain…

 

I hadn’t realized until then that both Hippolytus and Phaedra were in love and ashamed—Phaedra because of whom she loved, and Hippolytus because he loved at all. I could see the shame in Jeremy’s performance, eating away at him, and I wondered if that’s what I looked like in my audition… if that’s what I looked like every time I thought of Garrick.

 

Present, I flee you: absent, I find you again.

 

Garrick’s eyes were on Jeremy, glancing back occasionally at the notes he was writing on the notepad in his lap. That last line was echoing through my head like music, a melody that gets stuck and won’t give you any rest.

Present, I fled him. But no matter the distance between us, I kept coming back to him. It all kept coming back to him.

Eric stood from his spot and said, “Good. Good. Let’s see you with Bliss.”

I tore my eyes from Garrick, and fumbled for the script. I walked toward the stage, my knees a bit weak, and my feet somewhat numb.

As much as I loved Jeremy, it was clear to me within minutes that he was not Hippolytus. For one, he was not the heroic, handsome young man who could turn Phaedra’s heart so inside out. He was more of a boy. He had the passion, but sometimes even that wasn’t enough.

We moved through two more boys who were also lacking—both in confidence. Those auditions went quickly.

Then it was Cade’s turn.

I’d always thought Cade’s best asset was his voice. On stage, it took on this low rumble that no matter the volume held power. And with a play that was so much about the text and the lyricism in the lines—his voice was perfect. It was always hard to read Eric’s face, but he definitely looked happier with Cade than he had the previous two auditions.

When things fell apart was when Cade and I took the stage together. We were doing the scene where Phaedra first reveals her feelings to Hippolytus. They were speaking of the death of Theseus—Phaedra’s husband and Hippolytus’s father. Hippolytus had never liked his stepmother. He didn’t know that she’d treated him poorly, so that she might more easily keep her distance because she’d loved him even before Theseus supposedly died.

We did fine through the section about Theseus’s death, but I was barely halfway through my monologue where I declared my feelings when Eric came out of the house and onto the stage.

“Stop, stop. Cade, what are you doing?”

Cade looked stunned, and maybe on the verge of being sick. “I’m sorry?”

“You despise her. As the revelation of her feelings dawns on you, you should be horrified, disgusted, even angry.”

“Of course, sir.”

“So then why do you look like a love sick puppy who returns her affections?”

As if I weren’t channeling enough guilt already for this performance, I felt the weight of my own guilt added. This was my fault. This wasn’t about the play. It was about me. He’d kept his feelings under wraps for so long, but I’d noticed ever since that party, since I’d kissed him, it had all been closer to the surface. He wore his hope like a winter coat, layered over the top of all of him.

I didn’t look at him as he and Eric spoke, because I was not sure I could keep the pity out of my face, and he would hate seeing that. So, I looked at Garrick instead. His face was drawn. Even though he was about fifteen feet from me, I felt like I was seeing him from far away. He only looked at me for a moment longer, before his gaze skipped to Cade, and his frown deepened. After a few seconds, he met my eyes again, and held me there with his stare. There was something different in this look, something changed, something that set my heart beating faster and the hair prickling on the surface of my skin.

Cade and I finished our scene without incident. It wasn’t the strongest performance he could have given, but I thought it was still the best so far. Though I was biased, I guess. I should have been happy that my friend had trouble even acting disgusted with me. But in the back of my mind, a thought was planted, its roots digging deeper despite my attempts to push it away.

If he knew the real reason I’d said maybe… if he knew what was keeping us apart, he probably wouldn’t have any trouble despising me.

I was a little unfocused through the next callback. So much so that Eric decided it was time to give me a break. Needing the fresh air, I slipped out the Emergency Exit (which was never alarmed), and I knew before I heard the door creak open again behind me that Garrick would follow.

“You’re doing well,” he said.

I blew out a quick breath. It might have been a laugh, if I’d had more energy. “Yeah, that’s why you’re out here trying to make me feel better.”

“My reasons for being out here are entirely selfish.”

I kept thinking I would get used to him saying things like that, his directness.

I never did.

“You were right. You are acting like a right bastard.”

What little heat there was in my words left when he grinned.

He walked around the side of me, staring out at some distant point on the campus. “I keep thinking that this play is a sign. It’s so much like us.”

“Am I the lust-filled mother in this situation or you?”

His eyes came back to me, dipping and scanning the curves and lines of my body. “Oh, that’s definitely me,” he answered. “Phaedra keeps saying she’s being selfish. That she hates herself for it, but she does it anyway. She can’t deny herself what she wants, even if it brings about her downfall and his.”

“And have you learned anything from our literary parallel?”

“Not really. I keep thinking that she would do it all over again if there were a chance… a chance that it could go right. Even if 99 times out of a 100 the story ends badly, it’s worth it if only once she gets a happy ending.”

“Listen, Garrick, while this parallel you’re drawing is lovely, especially with that accent, I’m a little tired of the metaphors, and being compared to doomed love stories. Just say what you want to say. I’ve been puzzling out ancient text all night. I don’t want to have to decipher you, too.”

“I’m saying that I was wrong.” He took a step closer, and my exhaustion fled, replaced with electricity under my skin. “I’m saying I like you. I’m saying I don’t give a damn that I’m your teacher.”

Then he kissed me.

I pushed him back before my heart and mind got swept away. The pleasure hit me after the kiss was already over, so that it felt like an echo. And even though I was the one who pushed him away, I missed him.

“Garrick, this is crazy.”

“I like crazy.”

The question was… did I? This was the craziest thing I’d ever done, and it both terrified and excited me. I backed away, needing the distance to think, to wrap my brain around the insanity. There were so many ways for this to go badly. But then again for the first time ever, I found my own life more interesting than the story of a character on a page. And God, did I want to know the ending.

And hadn’t Eric said I was better when I made bold choices. He’d been talking about acting, but didn’t it hold true for life, too?

Garrick’s hand brushed across my forehead, then pushed back into my hair.

“Just think about it.”

Oh, I would think about it. It would likely be all I could think about.

He pressed a quick, barely there kiss to my forehead and left me outside, my thoughts in a jumble and my heart a mess.

Chapter Sixteen

“Why in the world would you want a cat?” Kelsey asked as we left Directing the next day.

“I just do, okay? Do you want to come or not?”

She shrugged. “Can’t. Sorry. I’ve got work. Just take Cade.”

As if he’d been summoned, Cade popped up between us, and I wondered how long he’d been listening to our conversation.

“Take me where?”

I said, “I’m going to the humane society to get a cat.”

“Oh. Cool,” he said, nodding. “I wish I weren’t living in the dorms. I’d love to have a dog.”

I was aware of the careful space he kept between us, and the near continuous bobbing of his head, like the nodding had given him something to do, and he didn’t want to give it up.

Kelsey pulled her sunglasses down off her head and over her eyes even though we were still indoors. “Well, as fun as this is… I’ve got to jet. You two have fun at the pound. Don’t come home a cat lady, Bliss.” Kelsey was oblivious to the panicked look I’d shot at her. Cade and I hadn’t really been alone since the whole maybe conversation. He switched his messenger bag to his other shoulder, fidgeting like he always did when he was nervous.

“If you want to go alone—it’s cool.”

“No, no. You should come.” We had to get over this. And I only saw two ways—we got together or we didn’t. The waiting was going to kill our relationship (it was already pretty maimed). If we had to have this conversation, around cute animals was probably the best place.

“Ok. Cool,” he said.

Cool… yeah.

I was glad to be the one driving. It gave me a way to occupy my body and my mind. And it was my car, so I could turn the music up as loud as I wanted. What I hadn’t counted on was Cade being at home enough in my car to turn it down.

“So, what made you decide to get a cat?”

Oh, you know. I nearly had a one-night stand with our professor, but ran away using my imaginary cat as an excuse, and now he might want us to be together together even though it’s the worst idea ever, but I kind of don’t care either, because my body and probably my heart are telling me it’s the best idea ever. So now I need a cat so he won’t realize I was lying about the cat because I’m a virgin and chickened out of having sex with him.

“Just wanted one,” was what I actually answered.

“Oh. Cool.”

If he said, “cool” one more time I was going to scream.

I pulled into the humane society parking lot, wishing I had told Cade I wanted to go alone after all.

I needed something fuzzy and adorable in my hands, stat.

We stepped inside to that distinct medicated smell that’s reserved for pounds and veterinarians. The lady at the front desk even looked vaguely feline, like working here was in her DNA. Her face was slightly pointed, her eyes tilted, and her hair short and fuzzy.

“Hello there! How can I help you?”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m interested in adopting a cat.”

She clapped tiny hands that I envisioned as paws. “That’s fantastic. We have plenty of great candidates. Why don’t I take you back to the cat room, and I’ll give you two a chance to look around.”

We followed her down the hall, that antiseptic smell growing stronger, no doubt covering the odor of a multitude of animals housed in one place.

“Here we are.”

The room was stacked with cages, and I don’t know if the chorus of meows began at our entrance or if it was constant, but we were surrounded by sound.

“I’ll leave you two alone. All we ask is that you only have one animal out at a time.” With a wide, Cheshire smile and a wave, she left.

In silence, I peeked into cages, feeling lost.

I liked cats, but I wasn’t sure I actually wanted one. What would I do with it when I graduated? Was it worth it for a boy? Was it worth it just to have sex? I mean, it’s not like there weren’t other options for losing my virginity.

I looked at Cade, who had his fingers slipped inside a nearby cage, petting a midnight black cat.

If I was honest, this wasn’t just about having sex, even if it had started that way. As much as I wanted Garrick, I’m pretty sure if I tried to sleep with him again, it would turn into a repeat of my first awkward performance.

“You know what?” I said out loud. “Maybe I’m not ready for a cat.”

I turned to leave, but Cade stepped in my way.

“Whoa. Wishy-washy, much? You haven’t even held one. Give it a chance.”

He opened the cage with the black cat and pulled it into his arms. He brought it toward me, rubbing at the cat’s jaw. I was eye level with the furball, and I could hear the engine roar of his purrs from here.

I took a step back, and tried to explain without really explaining. “It’s not that I don’t like cats. And really, I think I would enjoy having… a cat. But what if I get a cat before I’m ready? What if I choose the wrong cat? Or what if I’m bad at it… being a cat owner, I mean?”

God, how much easier would this be if I could say what I was really thinking?

Cade rolled his eyes, and pushed the animal into my arms. “Bliss, you couldn’t be bad at this if you tried.”

I could be bad at sex though. Knowing my over-active, neurotic brain—I could be completely awful at it.

The cat reached up and rubbed the top of its head against my chin. It was pretty adorable. Cade was beaming at me, and I thought… maybe Cade would be the better choice. Would I be so terrified of sex if I were having it with Cade?

The thought made me feel shaky, unsteady.

I passed the cat back into his arms, still unsure, but feeling a little calmer. I came to the line of cages, and searched for a gray one that could pass for a Hamlet. When I found her, Fate must have been laughing at me. She was hunkered down in the back of her cage, her large green eyes wary. I pulled the cage door open, and she replied with a guttural growl.

Of course… I would get the scary cat.

Over my shoulder, Cade said, “You’re not serious.”

If only I weren’t. But I’d told Garrick that Hamlet was gray.

“Sometimes, it’s the scary things in life that are the most worthwhile.” I told him. I’m pretty sure I’d read that in a fortune cookie once upon a time. That made it wise, right?

I reached my hands into the cage, prepped for a bite or a scratch or full on massacre, but as my hands circled around the middle of the beast, she reacted only with a low groan.

Cade shook his head, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want this one?” He pulled the black cat up close to his face. “He’s so sweet!”

In contrast, the cat in my arms was on full alert—her legs straight, eyes wide. I had a feeling if I tried to hold her any closer, she would maul me. I sat her down on the ground and she took off, hiding beneath a nearby bench.

I knew he was only asking about the cat, but I heard another question. One he hadn’t asked, not today anyway. And Cade was sweet, and the thought of being with him didn’t leave me immobilized with fear. The thought of being with him didn’t leave me with any overpowering emotion, actually.

That’s when I knew—

“Cade… I need to take back my maybe.”

I swear even the cats stopped their meowing. I could imagine their stunned silence. I wondered what cat-speak was for Oh, no she didn’t.

“Oh.”

I wished he would react—scream, argue, anything. I waited for him to lock up like that cat, claws out, teeth bared. Instead, he walked calmly away and placed the black cat carefully in his cage, probably so we wouldn’t have more than one cat out at once like the lady said. That was Cade, always thinking about the rules. That’s how I’d always been, too, but I was starting to think it wasn’t how I wanted to be now.

His movement was mechanical, simple, precise. He pulled the cage door closed and turned the latch with a sharp snap. He kept his back to me as he spoke.

“Am I allowed to ask why?”

I breathed out. I owed him that much, but how could I tell him this? He couldn’t know. If I was going to do this thing with Garrick (which who was I kidding? I probably was), then no one could know. Not even my best friends.

“I… there might be someone else.”

“Might be?”

This was stick-your-hand-into-a-blender-terrible. He wouldn’t look at me, and the heart in my chest felt paper thin, like tissue paper, which meant I was pretty damn close to heartless, doing this to my best friend.

“Things are still a little… complex. But I like him, a lot. I was going to wait it out, see if the feelings went away, so that maybe you and I could…” I trailed off, not wanting to put into words what I’d been thinking. There was no point. “But Cade, I can’t handle how things have been. It’s been less than a week, and I feel like I’m dying. I hate questioning everything I do around you, wondering if it’s okay, wondering if it crosses a line, wondering if I’m hurting you. I miss my best friend, even when I’m standing right beside you. So… I had to make a choice. And I need you in my life too much to screw us up. If I’d told you yes, and then my feelings for him didn’t go away… I couldn’t do that. Please tell me I haven’t screwed this up already. Please, please.”

He turned then, and I was startled by the hurt I saw in him. Cade’s face looked foreign with a frown. “I want to say we’re okay, Bliss. I need you, too. But I can’t pretend I wasn’t hoping this would go somewhere. I don’t know if I can do it. The truth is… you are hurting me. Not on purpose, I know that. But I love you and every second that you don’t love me back… it hurts.”

“Cade—“ I reached for him.

“Don’t, please. I can’t.”

The medicated smell of the shelter was suddenly overpowering, nauseating.

I asked, “Can’t what? Can’t be my friend?”

“I don’t know, Bliss. I just don’t know. Maybe.” The hint of bitterness in his tone was small, but it struck me like a slap across the face anyway. He walked out the door, and I sunk down on the bench, feeling frayed and burnt and bruised. My tissue paper heart was shredded.

I sat there, trying to puzzle out a way that I could have done this better. Was there any possible path I could have taken that wouldn’t have fucked this up so completely? Would telling him no straight out have been better? Should I have waited until the year was over and Garrick had left, and then tried to have something with Cade?

My mother had told me once when I was little and had a friendship fall apart that some relationships just end. Like a star, they burn bright and brilliant, and then nothing in particular goes wrong, they just reach their end. They burn out.

I couldn’t fathom my friendship with Cade being over.

Something nudged at my calf, and then the gray cat’s head poked between my legs. She pulled her whole body through the space between my limbs, rubbing against me as she went. She circled back and pressed her head against my shin. I reached a hand down, and she froze, flattening against the floor in fear. Slower, I moved until my hand pressed against her back, sliding along her fur in one smooth stroke. Her body relaxed, and I petted her again.

I eased myself down on the floor beside her. She locked up again, but she didn’t run. When I was certain she was comfortable with me, I picked her up in my arms. I pressed my face against her fur, absorbing the comfort she didn’t realize she was giving.

“Let’s make a deal, Hamlet. I’ll help you be less afraid, if you help me, too.”

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

By the time I had filled out the necessary paperwork, and had Hamlet housed inside a cheap cardboard cat carrier, nearly thirty minutes had passed since Cade had walked out to my car. Standing in the parking lot, I couldn’t find him anywhere.

I pulled out my phone, no text.

I looked on my windshield, no note.

I called his phone, no answer.

I called his phone again, straight to voicemail.

By the beep, I was crying.

“Cade, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to make this better. I Just want us to be how we’ve always been. God, that’s stupid. I know we can’t be. I know things can’t be how they were before, but… I don’t know. Nevermind. Just… let me know you’re okay. You’re not at my car, and I don’t know how you got home, if you got home. Just call me. Please. Let’s talk about this.”

A few minutes later, I was sitting beside my car in the gravel, my jeans smeared with dust, and I got a text.

I’m fine.

I tried to call again, straight to voicemail again.

And as hard as I tried to feel otherwise, as hard as I tried to hope that we’d get past this… I already felt it. I felt burnt out.

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe I’d just finally gone crazy. Maybe I just didn’t have anywhere else to go. But when I got back to my apartment complex, I didn’t go to my apartment.

Hamlet in hand, I went to Garrick’s.

I don’t know what I looked like when he opened the door. I don’t really want to know. But he opened the door wider almost instantly, gesturing me in with no questions asked.

I’d never been in his apartment. I should have taken it all in or asked him to show me around. I should have said something, but the only thing on the tip of my tongue was a sob, and it took all of my energy, all of my concentration to hold that inside.

But even that wasn’t enough when his fingers tilted my chin up. He spoke my name, and I saw the worried look in those eyes. The tears streamed out of me like a cup overflowing, and I couldn’t control it, couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t explain.

He took Hamlet’s box out of my hands and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He led me down a hallway almost identical to mine into a living room that was vastly different. It was filled with books, some in shelves, some in stacks on the floor. The furniture was simple, slightly modern, but not so modern that I hesitated to sink into the cushions of the black couch, snatching up a white pillow to hug to my chest. Then Garrick was beside me, pulling the soft pillow out of my hands, and replacing its comfort with himself. He pulled me into his lap, cradling me like a child, wiping away tears, brushing back my hair, rubbing at my back.

“He hates me,” I finally managed. He hadn’t asked, but his concern tugged at me anyway, tugged the words right from my mouth.

“Who does, love?”

Quick, short breaths puttered from my lips, little whimpers that I couldn’t seem to control.

“C-Cade.”

“Cade could never hate you,” he said.

“He does. He left. He won’t even talk to me.” I dissolved into another fit of tears, and he just pulled me in close, tucking my head underneath his chin, against his chest.

He let me cry, murmuring things all the while. You’ll be okay, love. Things will work out. Calm down. Breathe, Bliss. I’m here. It will be okay. Whatever it is we’ll take care of it. It’s okay, love.

He must have whispered a thousand variations. But he never stopped trying, no matter how much I wasn’t hearing him. When I was finished crying, I was too tired to do anything else. I lay limply against him, doing nothing but breathing in and breathing out. And he held me still. Finally, a noise broke through the fog. A low, annoyed groan.

Hamlet. I’d left Hamlet trapped in that box this whole time.

Filled with purpose, I sat up, clear headed again for the moment.

“I’m sorry, I need to take her home.” I was standing and reaching for her crate, when Garrick took me by the elbows.

“Stay, love. You’re upset. I’ll take care of the cat.”

No. I couldn’t let him do that. Because then he’d see that all the cat stuff I’d bought the night before was still brand new and unused.

“No, it’s okay. I really should go. I’m okay, now. Thanks.”

“Bliss, please, talk to me.”

My body was leaning toward him against my will, aching for his comfort again, but I hadn’t made a decision yet.

“I don’t know…”

“How about this—you go home and take care of the cat, and in a little while, I’ll bring dinner. We can talk or just watch a movie or whatever you need to do. I just… if you leave like this, I’ll go crazy worrying about you.”

After a moment, I nodded.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yes, just give me an hour, okay?”

He smiled, and I knew… I was in trouble.

***

I was pretty sure my new cat hated me.

Not that I blamed her, after I left her in that box for so long.

No matter what I did, she let out that closed mouth growl every time I took a step anywhere near her. I set up food for her in the kitchen, which she ignored. I made a litter box and put it in a storage closet. I picked her up, and carried her to the box, placing her inside so she’d know where it was. She hissed once, and then ran, kicking up litter in her wake. She disappeared under my couch, only her glowing, evil eyes visible in the darkness.

Why hadn’t I told Garrick I had a cat named Lady Macbeth? That would have been so much more fitting.

For the rest of the time, I was left alone with my thoughts, which were about as pleasant as the Ebola virus. I straightened up the living room, then thought about running away. I straightened up my bedroom, then rushed to the bathroom, certain I was going to vomit. I didn’t. I almost wished I had. I could have said I was sick.

Before I really got the chance to talk my self into or out of this… there was a knock at the door.

My heart felt like someone was using it as a trampoline. I took a deep breath. I hadn’t promised him anything. He’d said we could talk. Or watch a movie. Or do whatever I wanted. This didn’t have to be a big deal.

When I opened the door, Garrick looked so cheerful that it was hard to keep dreading his presence.

“I forgot to ask what you wanted, so I got pizza, a burger, and a salad.” He was balancing all three in his hands, and I was all at once overwhelmed with how much I liked him. Not just in a romantic way. In general. He was kind of amazing.

I smiled, “Pizza is good.”

I moved back, and he stepped inside my apartment. As much as I was freaking out earlier, it felt natural to have him here. Not that I wasn’t still nervous, it was just… he felt like he belonged.

We made our way into my kitchen/living room, and he set the food on the small circular island that jutted out from my kitchen counter. I busied myself getting us both drinks and plates, and when there was nothing else I could distract myself with, I pulled out one of the barstools tucked underneath the island counter, and took a seat beside him. I pulled a slice of pizza on my plate, and he opened the salad.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You are not seriously going to sit there and eat a salad while I stuff my face with greasy goodness, are you?”

He dumped dressing on top of his lettuce and grinned. “Oh, I’m going to eat the burger, too. And some pizza, if you leave me any.”

I rolled my eyes. Guys sucked.

We talked. Not really about anything that mattered. He balked when I dipped my pizza in ranch. When I made him try it, he puckered his face up like it was gross, but I saw him dip a slice again later when I was up refilling my drink. It wasn’t until I was so full that I felt like I was going to burst that he brought up my earlier breakdown.

“So, can you tell me now what happened with Cade?”

I picked at the pepperoni on the half-eaten slice of pizza on my plate.

“We had a fight, I guess. I think. I’m not sure. We’ve never really had a fight before.”

“About?”

I pushed out the air I’d been holding in my lungs, and set about returning things to the fridge, and placing our plates in the sink.

“About the kiss.”

I could imagine Garrick’s reaction without seeing it, so I decided to go ahead and wash the dishes… by hand… even though I had a dishwasher.

“He likes me,” I continued. “He told me after the kiss, and we’ve been trying to act like nothing changed, but it was awful, and I just got tired of pretending things were normal.”

He appeared beside me, taking a plate, and drying it for me. He must have realized by now that it was easier for me to talk, when we weren’t looking at each other because he kept his eyes focused on the plate long after it was dry.

“So, what did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t think it was going to happen.”

“You weren’t even a little interested?” Garrick asked.

I didn’t think Garrick really wanted to hear this, but he was going to get what he asked for. I needed someone to vent to.

“I thought about it. Cade is sweet, and I like being with him, but he doesn’t really make me feel anything.”

He stopped staring the plate, and turned toward me, leaning his hip against the counter beside me.

“Do I make you feel anything?”

I glanced up at him just long enough to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. I looked away.

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Is it? You’re harder to read than you think you are.”

I dried my hands on a towel, and moved to the couch, pushing myself into a corner, and dragging a pillow into my lap.

“I’m serious,” Garrick continued. “Sometimes you react… like, well, how I want you to react. But then other times, like outside during callbacks, you push me away like you’re not affected by me the way I am by you.”

I squeezed the pillow tighter to my chest.

“I’m affected, Garrick. I’m just also confused… and worried. And I don’t understand why you aren’t.”

He took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, the entire middle cushion separating us.

“I think that’s all I do is worry,” he said

“And you still think this is smart?”

He shook his head, laughing. “Oh, it’s definitely not smart. I know that. But honestly, Bliss? I’m miserable here. It’s great to have a steady job, and I’m enjoying teaching, but I don’t have any friends left here. I go to work, and then I go back to my apartment. And I think about you because I can’t help it, and there’s nothing else to distract me. Especially when I know you are only one building away. The night we met… Bliss, I don’t normally do things like that. But I was second-guessing everything about coming here, and you were everything I needed. I don’t know how many times I’ve stopped myself from coming over here and knocking on your door. And yes, seeing you with Cade was definitely motivation, but more than that… I just like you, Bliss. As a teacher. As a person. As a guy.”

It was hard to keep my breathing steady, hard to keep the longing from showing on my face, hard to keep from reaching for him.

“So, what now?” I asked him.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

I had so many ideas. That was the problem.

“If we do this…” I started, and then stopped. His entire posture had changed, and I felt it echoed in my own. We were about to cross a line, and we both knew it. “If we do this, we have to be careful.” He nodded, his eyes fixed on me. “And I think we should take it slow. If we get caught up in this too fast, we’ll get sloppy.” And I needed more time to think about this, about sex with him, and whether it was something I wanted to do.

I wasn’t sure slow was something we could do, but it was the only way I could do this without freaking out. Who was I kidding? I was going to freak out regardless. The difference was whether it was a feel-like-I’m-going-to-be-sick-freak-out or a lock-myself-in-my-apartment-for-a-week-freak-out.

“Okay,” Garrick slid closer to me on the couch, halfway on to the middle cushion. “I can do careful… and slow.”

My skin was invaded with goose bumps when he reached a hand out to me. I let myself be afraid for a second, but then the need to touch him overpowered even my fear. I pushed the pillow out of my lap, and slid toward him. I put my hand in his, and he pulled it up to his mouth, holding it there against his lips. He closed his eyes, and the simple touch soaked into my body, soothing my anxiety.

Like a key into a lock, my body fell into his, fitting perfectly. With my head on his chest, and his arm around my shoulder, I took a deep breath and knew there was no going back.

Chapter Eighteen

The easiness of the night before evaporated by Friday morning. Cade wasn’t mad per say, but he wasn’t much of anything really. He didn’t talk to me in the greenroom or sit by me in class. When I joined a conversation, he left it. I was a habit, and he appeared to be quitting cold turkey.

Garrick’s gentle smile in Senior Prep helped. We’d commandeered the computers in the Design lab for the day to do post-grad research. Some were researching graduate schools, others scouring for internships. Kelsey was looking at airline tickets and hostels in random cities around the world.

I was looking at the search engine homepage.

Hands curled around the back of my chair, and Garrick’s body leaned in close to mine. The proximity was altogether distracting.

“What are you thinking, Bliss?”

I should have said, you. Naked. That would have shocked him. Not that I was actually thinking of him naked… well, now that I mentioned it I was… damn.

Like I said, distracting.

I shook my head, because I didn’t have an answer, not one I could say out loud. He stepped around me and leaned on the table, looking at me.

“Acting or Stage Management?” The gaze he fixed on me felt too personal in this room full of my classmates, even if none of them were looking, well, other than Kelsey. She watched pretty much any time Garrick talked to me, which reminded me that we had to be careful.

“I don’t know,” I muttered.

“Okay, well what about a city? You can start looking at apartments. That’s certainly something you’ve got to think about, especially if you’re going to New York.”

I stared at the search engine box. It was taunting me.

“I can’t afford New York,” I told him.

“That’s okay. Most people can’t. There are plenty of regional markets to consider. Philadelphia.” I jerked around to face him. Was he telling me to look at Philadelphia? Where he lived? Was he trying to tell me something or was I reading too far into this. His face was blank as he continued, “Dallas and Houston both have a fair amount of work. Chicago. Seattle. Boston. D.C. There’s plenty to choose from, actually.” I turned back toward my computer, my heart still beating a little too fast. I was definitely reading into this. It wasn’t like we were serious. We’d spent the evening cuddled on my couch. That didn’t mean we were together or that I was ready to move halfway across the country with him.

“Just explore. Look up something,” He said before leaving me to continue walking around the room.

I placed my fingers on the keys, but they felt like lead, too weighted to move. I stared at the key with the letter “P.” I could see Kelsey watching me out of the corner of my eye, and as curious as I was now about Philadelphia, I typed “Stage Management Internships” into the search engine.

Then I clicked from webpage to webpage, watching the clock in the corner of my screen, willing the numbers to change faster.

When class was over, my relief was short-lived.

The cast list had been posted.

I was still Phaedra, which was good. How embarrassing would it have been if Eric had changed his mind? Kelsey got Aphrodite like she wanted. Rusty did get a soldier, just like he’d predicted.

And Cade was Hippolytus.

***

I knocked on Garrick’s door that evening, nervous despite our agreement to take things slow. We hadn’t really talked about doing anything tonight, and despite our tenuous relationship, we’d yet to exchange numbers. So, I hoped I wasn’t being needy by seeking him out a second night in a row. Hamlet, definitely, was glad to have me out of the apartment. We still weren’t coexisting very well.

My worry eased when he opened the door and said, “Oh thank God. I’ve been thinking about coming round to your place for over an hour, but I was afraid I’d knock on the door and you’d have people over or something.”

I laughed.

“Maybe we should actually exchange numbers then.”

He said, “Are you going to put me in your phone under some secret code name so that no one knows who I am when I text you dirty things?”

My eyes widened. “Are you planning to text me dirty things?”

His eyes danced with amusement and that blinding grin was back on his face. “I’m not ruling it out.”

Oh. Oh. My nerves shot back up.

He took my hand, and pulled me into his living room where a book was open on his sofa. It was poetry, of course, because he was perfect, and woefully out of my league. He marked his page, and placed the collection on top of a pile of books at the edge of the sofa.

He reached and laced our fingers together in the space between us. I wanted to lean into him, wrap myself around him, and not move from his arms until I had to, but I still felt awkward. Were we in that place yet where we could just do that? Or did we have to work our way up to it?

“So… Cast list?” He asked.

I groaned and leaned my head back against his couch.

“It’s not that bad, is it?”

“That depends on whether or not Cade is speaking to me by the time rehearsal rolls around in two weeks.”

I didn’t have to worry about easing into it, because Garrick had no qualms about pulling me to him. My head fit perfectly onto the curve of his shoulder.

“Cade seems like a reasonable guy. I’m sure after a while to process everything, he’ll be better.”

I nodded, hoping he was right, but not feeling confident. Cade was reasonable. Trouble was… reason probably told him to stay the hell away from me if he didn’t want his heart stomped on. And maybe that would be for the best.

He deserved someone better.

“All right,” Garrick said. “Enough about that. I don’t like that sad look on your face. Unfortunately our options for the evening are limited, since we can’t actually go anywhere. So how about a movie?”

I pulled a smile onto my face. When he smiled back it took less effort to hold it there. “A movie sounds good.”

He picked something funny, probably in an effort to cheer me up. Then he flicked off the lights, and joined me again on the couch. As the opening credits began, He leaned back, pulling me with him. He was stretched out on his back, and I was on my side, fitted between him and the back of the couch. I hesitated a moment before laying my head against his chest.

I tried to watch the movie, I really did, but it was hard to concentrate with his steady, even breaths ruffling my hair, and his hand tracing up and down my spine. It was somewhere between ticklish and seductive. I was hyper aware of the way every once and a while, his finger would continue a little farther down my back, until he barely touched the stretch of skin between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my shorts. He would stay there for only the barest of seconds before returning up my back. Then his finger danced up to the sensitive skin at the back of my neck, and I had to hold back a moan. I glanced up at him quickly, but he was focused on the movie, completely unaware of the madness he was driving me to.

Finally, I decided it was time for him to get a dose of what I was feeling. I uncurled the fist I had resting on his chest, pressing my fingertips ever so slightly into his chest. I started by tracing the abstract design on his t-shirt, something from a band, I think. But once I’d done that I kept trailing my hands across his chest, across the curve of one pec, down the sternum to his ridged stomach, back up his chest to the muscles stretching from his shoulder to his bicep. When my hand took one of his moves, barely tracing along the hem of his t-shirt, his hand on my back stilled.

Somehow, the stillness set me even more on edge.

Feeling a little brave, I went back to the hem, pushing my fingers up and under his shirt, using my fingernails to draw the barest of touches across his skin. The hand on my back moved, sliding up past my neck and into my hair. I flattened my hand, pressing my palm against his warm skin. The hand in my hair tightened, not enough to hurt, but just enough so that he could use it to tilt my head backward slightly.

He gazed at me, no trace of teasing grin, his blue eyes appearing black in the darkened room. His eyes danced around my face, flicking most frequently between my eyes and my lips. The anticipation was killing me, and I dug my fingers into his skin. His breathing wasn’t so steady anymore, but he still only looked at me. I licked my lips, and his gaze stayed there longer, so long that heat was pooling between my legs just because of the anticipation alone, and I squirmed trying to relieve the pressure.

When I lifted one of my legs, curling it around his own, finally, he took action.

The hand in my hair pulled me forward, and he met me halfway.

All of the anticipation of the last ten minutes focused into the point where our lips met. The connection was too small to bring to mind fireworks, but it was something close, like the excitement of holding a sparkler— the rush of feeling the sparks creep closer to your hand.

His mouth stayed closed, and even though I’d tasted him several times before, the mystery was killing me.

It felt like a first kiss.

He pulled back, and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Thank you,” he said.

Thank you? Was that like a thanks, but no thanks? Thanks, but I’m watching a movie, leave me alone?

“For?”

“For giving this a chance. I know you were, probably are, afraid. But you’ve made my life immensely better already.”

I don’t know if it was being an actor that made him so honest, so unafraid of being vulnerable, or if it was just who he was. I wished I could do the same, but that wasn’t who I was.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His hand in my hair trailed across my jaw.

“Of course,” he answered.

“Why did you take this job? Not that I’m not glad you are here, but you said yourself you were miserable.”

“I was…not anymore.” He leaned back in and kissed me again, humming as he pressed his lips against mine. It did not slip my notice that he hadn’t answered my question, but I didn’t care enough about the answer to stop kissing him, especially when his mouth finally opened, and I tasted sweet and mint and his breath mixed with mine.

His tongue slid against mine, and my hand beneath his shirt came back to life, curling around his side, pulling closer until my pelvis pressed into his hip. The kiss was leisurely and divine, but too slow, slow, slow.

I wanted more. I wanted our bodies flush, I wanted our lips crushed together, not softly teasing. I didn’t want to lose the contact with his skin, but I wanted to take control. My other hand was trapped beneath me, propping me up on my side. So I slipped my hand out of his shirt, and placed it on his face instead. I pulled him closer, trying to change the pace.

He allowed it for a moment, our lips moving faster, breath escaping as our heads tilted and our mouths battled. And God, it was good. I kept pulling, not satisfied, not close enough, until he angled up and rolled onto his side to face me. A sigh of success escaped me, then he took the hand I had on his face, and pulled it away, away, until it was trapped behind me, held there, pressed into my lower back by his hand.

Then again, he leaned back, changing the pace, brushing against my lips, slowly, softly. It was maddening. I tried leaning into him, but he held strong, pinning me back, taking his time. I groaned in frustration.

And he smiled.

“What is it, love?”

Any number of words could have come out of my mouth, some of them incoherent, most of them not very nice. Luckily, the ones I managed were exactly what I meant.

“Too slow,” I whined.

I was actually whining.

“I told you I could do slow,” He said.

“You jerk.” That was actually one of the nicer words going through my head. He didn’t even have the decency to be worried. He just laughed. I squirmed, trying to pull my arm free, and he appeased me with a kiss, this one a little harder, a little more satisfying than the last. And just when I was forgetting why I’d been so frustrated before, he pulled back again.

It was absurd, but I actually felt like I might cry. His lips trailed along my jaw to that spot below my ear that made every taut muscle in my body go limp.

“I wasn’t trying to be smart,” he whispered. “I’m trying to give you what you want. It’s hard when I let myself go, when I kiss you how I want to. Because all I can think about then is how your skin tastes, and how much I want to taste it again.” His mouth burned against my neck. His teeth grazed against me, and on impulse, my hips surged forward, just barely making contact with him. He groaned in response, his whispers turning gruff, losing their softness. “I remember the weight of your breast in my hand, and the way you reacted to my fingers inside you.” I bit my lip against the whimper building in my throat. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted our clothes off. “I think about having your body beneath me. I think about being inside you. I think about it, and it consumes me. And going slow is the very last thing to cross my mind.”

I lost it. I couldn’t hold in the whimper, and I felt like I was going to fall apart from his words alone.

“So, I have to kiss you slowly. Unless you’ve changed your mind. Have you? Changed your mind?”

YES! Please, oh God, yes.

This was like torture.

But reason unfurled in the back of my mind, taking over, keeping me grounded. What if we tried to have sex and I chickened out again and I ruined everything?

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” I said. Then added, “You jerk,” because that was torture, and by the smile on his face, he knew it.

“Hmmm… then slow it is.”

Chapter Nineteen

I was still a little angry with Garrick when I left that night, but when he walked me to my door, and asked what I was doing the next day, I wasn’t angry enough to blow him off. Cade wasn’t speaking to me, and I hadn’t heard from Kelsey, so I told him I was free, and we made plans for dinner at my place.

I slept in until noon, my bed too comfortable for me to pry myself out of it. Then I distracted myself with an extra long shower, followed by homework, then a book. When I checked the clock, it was still only 3 P.M.

I grabbed my computer, and searched, “Philadelphia Theatre.”

I found a theatre alliance website that gave info on a bunch of theatres in the city, as well as job postings and auditions. I clicked through, seeing what shows were currently running where, reading job descriptions, and bookmarking a few pages.

My cell rang, but it sounded far off. I tried following the sound, but the ringing ended before I was able to narrow it down further than the living room. Luckily, whoever was calling was persistent, and called again a few moments later. It was definitely somewhere near the couch. I pulled back cushions, but found nothing. I checked under papers and books, still nothing. Finally, I dropped to the ground and peered under the couch. There it was, lighting up the dusty darkness beneath my furniture. And right beside it, glaring at me, was Hamlet.

That brief interlude of sweetness I’d seen from her at the shelter had yet to make another appearance. And I had no doubt that she’d somehow dragged my phone underneath there to spite me.

“Listen, cat, I don’t know why you hate me so much, but you must have missed the memo. I rescued you.” Flat on my stomach, I squeezed myself beneath the couch, reaching for my phone. “You’re supposed to be thankful”

When my hand got closer, she let out her now familiar low growl.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”

I had to push half my body into the crevice between the furniture and the floor to reach my phone and getting out was even more uncomfortable than getting in.

2 missed calls from MOM.

I groaned. I should have just left it under the couch. At that moment, it rang again, for the third time. I answered, “Hi Mom.”

“Why didn’t you answer the first two times? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom. I just couldn’t find my phone.”

“Oh, well, you should really have a spot that you put it every time you come home, that way you always know where it is.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mom.”

“So, your disorganization is old news. What else is happening in your life?” I swear, my mother was the only person in the world who didn’t think I was a neurotic control freak because she was infinitely worse. She asked the inevitable question, “Have you met anyone?”

I rolled my eyes, which I never could have gotten away with face to face.

“I’m pretty busy with school, Mom. I actually just got cast as a lead in a play.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said mildly. She thought going into theatre was a waste of my intelligence.

“It’s actually kind of a big deal.”

“Of course it is honey. You just know how your father and I worry. We’d feel so much better if you had someone to take care of you financially.”

There was a knock at the door, and I went to answer it as I spoke. “First of all, financial security is not a good enough reason to get married, Mother, even if it makes you feel better. Secondly, I don’t need a guy to take care of me. I can take care of myself.” Garrick was on the other side of the door, almost an hour early, and he got to hear the tail end of my speech. He raised an eyebrow, smiling, and if I could have reached through my phone to throttle my mother, I would have. “Anyway, I need to go, Mom. I have company.”

“Is it male company?”

I groaned and said, “Goodbye.”

Hanging up felt so good. I was tempted to call her back and do it a second time.

Garrick smiled, “Your mum sounds a lot like mine.”

I glared at him. “You’re early.” I’d just pulled my hair into a wet ponytail this morning. I’d been planning on straightening it before he came, but now I just looked frumpy. And after crawling under the couch, I was dusty, too.

“Is that okay?”

It would probably be pretty rude to tell him to go home and come back in an hour.

“No, it’s fine. You can watch TV or something. I just need a second.” I waved him into the living room, and slipped into my bedroom, wondering how much improvement I could do in five minutes.

I pulled the band out of my hair, and looked at the wavy, damp mess I had to work with. There was no time to dry it and straighten it. And if I dried it without straightening it, I’d have a fluff ball for hair. I used my hands to mess it up a little more, scrunching it up in my hands, hoping the curly look would do. I worked a little bit of mousse into it, but that was all I had time for. I put on a quick coat of mascara and some chapstick, hoping he was okay with the au natural look.

When I came out of my room, he was stretched out on my couch, watching TV, and Hamlet was curled into a tight ball on his chest. I stood there in shock, certain I was dreaming.

He turned, and saw me watching. “Hey, your hair is curly.” I nodded. I almost always wore it straight. He said, “I like it.”

I was still stuck on the fact that my cat was perched happily on his chest… purring. He had magic powers. That was the only answer.

“Come here,” he said, sitting up, and shifting Hamlet into his lap. I sat down gingerly, a few feet away.

I pointed at Hamlet, and said, “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Get her to let you hold her.”

“It’s a her?” he asked.

“Yes, and she hates everyone. Especially me.”

“Your own cat hates you?”

“We’re working out our issues.”

He laughed. “Maybe she’s miffed that you gave her a boy’s name.”

I reached out a hand to pet her, and as always, received a growl for my troubles. Garrick thought Hamlet’s hatred of me was hilarious. And he kept holding her, which meant I was relegated to the opposite cushion because my cat had stolen my… whatever he was.

Ugh. That was something I didn’t want to think about. I mean, obviously, it was a secret relationship, so it wasn’t like we necessarily needed labels, but I was curious. What would happen when the year was up? Would we even last that long?

I got up to start dinner to distract myself.

I made spaghetti because it was the only thing I trusted myself not to screw up when I was nervous. And well… I was always nervous around Garrick. He apparently had the opposite effect on Hamlet, who was fast asleep in his lap.

I saw my window of opportunity for what I’d been craving since he arrived.

I left the food cooking on the stove, and made my way to the couch. I didn’t sit for fear of waking up the moody one, but I placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned down for a kiss. Since his hands were trapped beneath Hamlet, I got to control the kiss. My hands found his hair, which was as addicting and soft as always, and the kiss deepened. I kissed him hard, because I could, and he made no effort to stop me. It was the kiss I’d wanted the night before that he’d refused to give me.

I didn’t want to pull back, but I did have dinner on. His eyes were dark when we separated. “I think you might be a little evil,” he said.

I laughed. “Yes, I planned this all. Hamlet was in on it, as well.”

“Kiss me again.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice.

Every time we kissed, my confidence grew stronger. The longer I knew him, the bolder I became. I liked it… almost as much as I liked him.

Someone knocked on the door, three loud raps, followed by three more only seconds later. Our breath was still short from the kiss, and I wasn’t sure if the too-quick-thump of my heart was due to Garrick or the shock.

“Are you expecting someone?” he whispered.

I shook my head.

Three more knocks, and then Kelsey yelled through the door, “I know you’re here, Bliss! Open up!”

“Shit.”

I made no effort to be gentle as I picked Hamlet up from Garrick’s lap, and plopped her on the couch. I almost didn’t even notice the growl; it had become so commonplace.

I grabbed Garrick, and pulled him to his feet. I had no idea where to put him, but decided the bathroom was probably better than the bedroom, seeing as it actually had a door.

I pushed him inside with a quick, “I’m sorry. I’ll get rid of her, I promise.”

If only we had gone to his place.

I rubbed at my lips, hoping they weren’t as swollen as they felt. I ran a hand over my hair, and when I was certain there was nothing glaringly out of place, I opened the door.

Kelsey breezed past me, “It’s about damn time. What were you doing?”

I faked a yawn.

“Oh, you know, just lazing around.”

She rolled her eyes, and looked at me like I was the frustrating one.

“It’s a good thing I came over then. I’m not about to let you stay home on a Saturday night moping about the thing with Cade.”

She snatched my wrist, and pulled me into my bedroom. So, the bathroom had been the right choice.

“I’m not moping!” I said. “And how do you know about the thing with Cade?”

“Because everyone knows, honey. Which, btw, I’m pissed that you didn’t tell me all that drama was happening.”

Great.

“There’s really not that much drama. We’ll patch things up soon, I’m sure,” I said.

“Oh honey, you didn’t hear? Cade almost turned down the role in Phaedra. He didn’t, thank God. Rusty talked him out of it. But I wouldn’t call that ‘not much drama.’”

I sank on to my bed, my insides twisting like a wrung out rag. Cade was that upset? He would give up that great of a part just so that he didn’t have to be around me?

Kelsey’s voice came to me from my closet, and I had déjà-vu of the night that this whole thing started. She started pulling out tops and skirts, and I asked, “What are you doing?”

“We’re going out. You need to remember that a world exists outside your apartment.”

“No, Kelsey, I’d really rather not.” I thought about Garrick in my bathroom, and wondered if he could hear us.

“Tough shit. I’m not giving you a choice. I haven’t been dancing forever, and I need a wing-woman.”

I groaned and flopped back on my bed. She dropped a skirt on my face.

“Get dressed.”

Then I remembered the perfect excuse, “I can’t. I’ve got dinner cooking.”

“Great. I’m starving. What are we having?”

Sometimes I thought my life would be easier if I were friendless.

I returned to the kitchen, and she followed. I’d left the sauce on a little too long and it had burnt around the edges. So much for not screwing up spaghetti.

“Geez woman, were you planning to eat away your troubles? You made enough for three people!” I just shrugged. I had nothing to explain why I was cooking for two people (one with a very large appetite).

I put a little bit of spaghetti on our plates, trying to leave some for Garrick, even though I had no idea when he’d get to eat it.

I ate quickly, letting Kelsey dominate the conversation, which was about how long it had been since she’d had really good sex. I nodded along, laughing in the right places, shoveling food into my mouth the entire time. I cleared my plate before she’d even made a dent on hers. I placed my plate in the sink, and then headed for the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Kelsey asked.

I called “Bathroom!” over my shoulder, and kept walking.

When I reached the door, I glanced over my shoulder, glad to find Kelsey preoccupied with her spaghetti, and I slipped inside the room.

“Is she gone?” Garrick asked.

“Ssshhh!” He was leaning against the sink, and I reached around him to turn on the faucet to cover our whispers. “No. I’m sorry. She’s actually eating our spaghetti.”

His lips puckered, and I leaned forward, smothering my laugh against his chest.

“Is she leaving soon?”

I peered up at him, but stayed close against him.

“No. She thinks I’m depressed about Cade, and she’s determined to force me to go out.”

He pulled me to him, and pressed his face into the space where my neck curved into my shoulder. He let out a growl that was oddly reminiscent of Hamlet.

I wrapped my arms around him, just as disappointed. “I know. This sucks.”

As if I’d given him the idea, his lips covered my pulse point, sucking softly. I laughed, and pushed him back.

“Garrick, she’s right outside.”

As if on cue, Kelsey knocked at the door.

“Enough stalling, chica! I’ve picked out your outfit!” The doorknob started turning, and I rushed to intercept her.

I kept my foot in the way so that only a crack of space formed.

I said, “I’m not stalling, just getting ready. Hand me the clothes, and I’ll get changed.”

She looked suspicious at my feigned excitement. I was never excited when she dragged me out like this. I kept smiling, like maybe the stress had gotten to me, and I’d just finally cracked.

She passed me the clothes, and before she had a chance to reply, I pushed the door closed, and locked it as quietly as I could.

When I turned around, Garrick was slumped onto the toilet. I switched on the radio, turning it up as loud as I could stand, and turned off the faucet.

“I’m sorry, Garrick.”

Sitting, his head was level with my chest, and he rested his hands on my hips, pulling me forward.

“It’s okay, love. This was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I wish you could come with me.”

“Me too, love. But it’s okay. We’ll have dinner another time. You should get changed. The sooner you get out of here. The less likely we are to get caught.”

I nodded. My hands shook slightly as I pulled the clothes to my chest.

He said, “I’ll close my eyes.” And I dropped a quick, thankful kiss on his cheek

Smiling, he closed his eyes, and then leaned his elbows on his knees and his face into his hands. As quickly as I could, I whipped off my shirt, and shrugged off my shorts. I pulled a black tank top over my head, and then picked up the skirt.

My stomach dropped.

It was that God-awful, horrendously short miniskirt. I must have made a noise because Garrick raised his head. He kept his eyes closed as he asked, “Everything okay?”

I said, “Yes.’

Even though I was thinking hell no.

I slipped on the skirt, and it was just as short as I remembered. I sighed. There was no way I could wear this.

I touched a hand to Garrick’s shoulder, meaning to tell him that I was going to go outside to find something else, but his eyes opened and fixed on my legs, which suddenly felt weak, like pools of fabric instead of muscle and flesh and bone.

One of his hands curled around to tickle at the back of my knee, and I had to steady myself with a hand on his shoulder to keep from collapsing.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He choked. “Isn’t this the skirt you told me you’d never wear?”

“And I won’t be wearing it tonight. I’m going back to my room to find something else.”

I turned, and his other hand touched my thigh. “Wait.”

His hands trailed up to the indecently short hem, and around to the back of my thighs, inches below the curve of my butt.

“You. Are. Unbelievably. Sexy.” His voice was so low it rumbled, and I could feel the vibrations soaking into my skin. He leaned down and punctuated each word with a chaste kiss up the side of my thigh. I could have been clay in his hands, the way he was controlling me. If he had tried, I might have given up my virginity to him there in the bathroom without much of a fight.

But Kelsey’s fist pounded on the door, snapping me out of my lust.

“Damn, Bliss. Would you hurry it up already?”

With her words, came back my fear. Sure, he thought I was sexy now. But virgins were pretty much the least sexy things ever. Would he change his mind when he found out?

“I have to go. I’m sorry. There’s probably spaghetti still left over if you want some after we leave. I’ll… I’ll call you, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes still dark, unwavering.

I tumbled out into the hallway, a mess of hormones and emotions. I was so distracted that I didn’t even remember I’d intended to change until I was already buckled into Kelsey’s car and we were on our way to the club.

Chapter Twenty

Ecstasy, the club, was dark and hazy when we entered. The beat of the music pounded through the walls and the floor, seeping into my skin, setting me on edge. This wasn’t my scene at all, but Kelsey loved it. I figured all I had to do was hang out at the bar, maybe chat with a guy or two so she’d get off my back. Then she’d probably go home with some guy and leave me her car. That’s how these things usually went.

What I hadn’t anticipated was the way my change in attire would change the normal plan. We were barely in the doors for a minute before a guy had asked me to dance. I declined, which earned me a glare from Kelsey.

“What?” I shouted over the music. “You said I had to come, not that I had to dance!”

We stood at the bar, and I worked to flag down a bartender, while she berated me.

“You are the most infuriating person I have ever met! You look smoking hot tonight, and all you’re going to do is sit over here and pout like always!”

“Then maybe you should have let me stay home and pout!”

A guy tapped on my shoulder, and I didn’t even wait for him to ask before I said, “NO!”

Kelsey fixed her hands on her hips, and for a Barbie look-a-like, she was still pretty intimidating. “I realize you are upset, and you’ve got a lot going on. I’m trying to be understanding, but what is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem, Kelsey. I just don’t like that you think you can drag me places without any concern for what I actually want!”

“Fine! Nevermind! I give up! Sit here and pout! I’m going to dance!”

She spun around and pushed through the crowd, spilling several drinks and knocking people out of her way.

Scary Barbie.

I inched onto a stool, conscious of the fact that my short skirt made it so that my bare legs were glued to the plastic. I wouldn’t be surprised if my ass was hanging out, but at the moment I was too pissed off to care. I ordered a Jack and Coke, and sat there seething while I waited. I knew she meant well, but the solution to all the world’s problems was not partying. I’d always known we were very different people, but I’d never realized just how much she didn’t understand me.

“Can I buy you a drink?” A voice asked over my shoulder.

I held up my full drink, and ignored him.

The guy took a seat beside me anyway. He leaned in to ask me something else, and I snapped, “I’m not interested!”

Then a familiar voice answered. “I’m glad to hear that.”

I nearly fell off my stool when I picked up the accent.

“Garrick!”

Garrick was the guy sitting next to me, a cap pulled down low over his eyes, covering his gorgeous blond hair.

He hadn’t sounded like Garrick when he’d first spoken. “You sounded—“

When he answered this time his accent was gone, and he sounded American. No particular dialect, just… normal. “I am an actor, Bliss. I know how to cover my accent.”

Still in shock, I asked, “What are you doing here? What if someone sees you?”

“I’m incognito, sort of. And if anyone does, I’ll just say we ran into each other by chance. I’m a professor. I didn’t take a vow to have zero social life.”

“But why?”

“Because I couldn’t stomach the thought of you dancing with anyone else in that skirt.” His hand grazed my thigh, and all the heat from earlier came rushing back.

“Garrick, stop! Someone is going to see! What if Kelsey comes back?”

“Based on the show you guys put on earlier, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

I cringed. Maybe I had been a little bitchy.

“Come on.” He stood up, and offered me a hand. I looked around, scared to take it. It was so dark. If there was someone here we knew, we would have no way of knowing unless we came face to face. This was too big of a chance.

“Stop thinking so much,” he told me and wrapped an arm around my waist sliding me off the seat. The bare skin of my thighs squeaked embarrassingly against the seat, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He threaded our fingers together and pulled me into the crowd.

I kept my head down, concentrating on putting my feet where his had just been. He led me down a few steps onto a lower level, where it was somehow even darker, and the bodies were pressed tighter together. I couldn’t see anyone but the people right next to me. He weaved and pulled until we were in the furthest corner, then pulled me between him and the wall. His back was to the rest of the room, and his tall form covered me completely.

His breath tickled against my ear as he whispered, “Better?”

I nodded. It was better. I mean, we were still in a club and I would rather have been at home alone, but already this was the best club experience I’d ever had.

Even knowing how he felt about me, I was too nervous to dance with him face to face. So I turned until my back was pressed against his front. His hands went immediately to my hips, pulling me against him. The sensation chased all the air out of my lungs.

I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to stare at the wall and I tried to let the music swoop through me. Slowly, his hips tilted forward, and I followed, pushing back against him. He exhaled against my ear, and it sent shivers down my spine. He slid a hand from my hip to my stomach. With his fingers splayed, his thumb rested about an inch below my bra and his pinky trailed the waistband of my skirt. He used that hand to pull me into him at the same time that he rolled his hips.

Stars danced behind my closed eyes and my heartbeat matched the steady thrum of the music. His body against mine seemed to magnify the already heated room, and I felt sweat begin to dampen my neck. His hips kept rolling to the music, slowly and sensually, but every once and a while on a strong beat, his hips would push harder against mine. His lips touched the skin of my neck, and I was falling, falling, falling into the feeling.

It wasn’t enough. Would I ever have enough of him? I reached my hands up and behind me, tangling in his hair, and he hummed his approval. The hand on my stomach came up, running lightly from my raised arm down my side. He grazed the side of my breast, and the touch sent tremors through me, which were amplified when his fingers passed the indecent skirt and gripped my thigh.

The song changed, but we didn’t. His hands kept driving me crazy. Our bodies stayed tightly pressed together. I was still so turned on I felt dizzy with want. The whole world was spinning, and only we were still. Or maybe it was us who were spinning. All I knew was that there was everyone else and then there was us, and I never wanted it to be any other way.

He found that spot below my ear, and I moaned, glad for the music that swallowed the sound. He nipped at my neck with his teeth, and I dug my fingernails into his neck in response.

“God, Bliss, do you have any idea how badly I want you?”

Our hips rolled again, and I was certain I had a pretty good idea.

The song ended, and I’d had about all I could take. I slipped my phone out of my bra where it had been conveniently tucked. Garrick groaned and pulled our hips together again in response, but I was focused on my phone. My hands were shaking, but I still managed to type out a text to Kelsey.

Met someone. Leaving. Sry abt earlier. Talk 2 u tom?

I didn’t wait for a reply before I pulled Garrick toward the exit.

For once, I didn’t care how fast he we went on his motorcycle. I just held tight, and tried to will us home faster.

His lips were on my neck before I even got the key in my door. My breathing was so heavy it could only be called panting. When I finally got the door open, I pushed it so hard that it slammed against the wall. Tomorrow I’d have to check and make sure there wasn’t a hole. As soon as the door was closed, we were kissing.

I had tugged my heels off between the motorcycle and my door, and now without them, he was too far away. The thought must have occurred to us at the same time, because his hands left my thighs, and cupped my ass, lifting me so that I had to wrap my legs around his waist.

My back slammed against the door, and I gasped. His tongue snaked into my mouth, plunging in and out, fast and hard—exactly the way I liked it.

“Bed,” I gasped between kisses.

He leaned back long enough to say, “Are you sure?” Then we were kissing again, and the rhythm he set was just as seductive and hypnotizing as the music had been in the club. He asked again, “Bliss, are you sure?”

Was I sure? Why was he asking me questions? Did he realize I just wanted to kiss him? I wanted to kiss him until the rest of the world fell away.

“Bed,” I said again.

“That’s not an answer.” He moved toward the bedroom anyway.

I clung to him tightly, transferring my kisses to his jaw and then his neck so that he could concentrate on walking.

Somehow I still managed to get caught in the curtains.

Like literally caught.

My earring caught on the sheer material, and I didn’t notice until he kept walking. Pain lanced through my ear and the side of my head. I yelped in response.

“What? I’m sorry! What’s wrong? What did I do?”

“Ear.” Apparently, I’d been reduced to one-word sentences.

“Damn. Hold still.”

He tried to use both hands to free my earring, but then we lost balance, and both of us slammed into the side of my dresser that sat just inside my bedroom.

Judging by the way my elbow was smarting, I was going to have one hell of a bruise tomorrow.

When the pain subsided, I laughed, because as usual, my life was ridiculous. And as luck would have it, it was one of those half laugh half snort hybrids. We both laughed, gasping for breath for an entirely different reason now. My side was aching from where we hit the dresser. My earring was still attached to the curtain, and my legs were still around his waist. Between laughs, Garrick pressed a sweet kiss to my forehead.

Maybe ridiculous wasn’t so bad.

“Okay, let’s get you untangled. I’m going to put you down, okay?”

He lowered me gently the floor, and my stampeding pulse began to slow. He tried for a few minutes to free me, but his fingers were large and clumsy. Finally, I said, “Just undo the earring. I’ll get it out of the curtain tomorrow.”

Laughing, he did as I asked.

Whereas before, I’d felt like I was burning up in our kiss. Now, warmth spread through me that was different, sweeter. Candlelight instead of open flame.

He rubbed at the shoulder that had hit the dresser, and said, “We’re kind of a mess.”

I pinched my fingers together, and said, “Little bit.”

He curled a hand around my neck, and pulled me forward, pressing another kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes, thinking that this was what perfection felt like.

“I think maybe the curtain did us a favor. Your legs in that skirt pretty much killed all my self-control.”

I smiled. “I told you that I never should have worn it.”

“Oh, I’m definitely glad you wore it. It’s a memory I’ll cherish for a very long time.” I slapped him on the arm, but I didn’t mind the cheeky smile. He said, “I should probably go now, before you make me lose my mind again.”

I let him go, even though a large part of me was screaming in protest. And when he was gone, I celebrated in much the same way I had when I learned I’d gotten cast as Phaedra.

I danced.

Because… finally… things were going right.

Chapter Twenty-One

Things were so wrong.

The first Phaedra read through was a disaster of epic proportions. Even after two weeks, Cade wouldn’t speak to me at all before we started, and it seemed everyone in the cast was on his side, based on the glares I was getting. And though read-throughs tended to be a bit stale since everyone was sitting around a table, this one was worse than week-old pizza.

Every once and while, Eric would shake his head, and I could practically see him thinking, what happened to the people I cast last week?

Each scene kept getting worse like a screw going in at the wrong angle, but we just kept going, trying to make something work that would clearly not.

When it was over, I felt deflated. I had been so excited about this play. I’d been waiting for something like this since freshman year, and now it was here and it was unbearable.

Eric faked some optimism, saying things would be smoother on stage. I don’t think anyone believed him.

And if they did, that misplaced hope dwindled when we had our first rehearsal onstage, which if possible, was even worse. The unease between Cade and I seemed to permeate the entire cast until everyone was stiff and on edge.

Classes weren’t much better.

Cade stayed far away from me, and Kelsey was still angry, so I was disproving that quote about no man being an island. I was totally alone.

Except for Garrick.

I was terrified by the depth of my feelings for him. Things were too good. Nothing in life was this amazing, at least not in my life. He stopped me after Senior Prep Wednesday morning, “Bliss, wait one second.”

I took my time packing up my stuff, waiting for everyone else to leave the computer lab. When we were alone I asked, “What’s up?”

He smiled, “Nothing.”

Then he pressed me into the computer table behind me and kissed me.

I gasped in shock, and his tongue stormed my mouth. I did nothing, but blink, and then he had me lifted up onto the table, his hips fitted between my open thighs, and his mouth burned against my own.

There was no slowness to this kiss. It was a frenzied, stolen moment, and I was spinning with want. I clung to him, certain I was about to fall to pieces in his arms, and then he pulled back.

I had to concentrate on breathing for several long seconds before it even occurred to me to be mad. I swatted his bicep, “Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if someone walked in?” I pushed him several feet away, and hopped off the table, my legs unsteady against the floor.

“I was thinking that you looked entirely too sexy for this early in the morning.”

I steeled my glare, “I’m serious, Garrick.”

“So am I,” He said. He took me by the elbow and pulled me into the far corner of the room, where we couldn’t be seen from the door, and we’d have warning if anyone entered. “When it comes to you, Bliss, I’m very serious.”

Was he implying what I thought he was implying? The look in his eyes was dangerous. I couldn’t think straight when he was so close to me. He tried to pull me into another kiss, but even out of sight from the door, I was too scared, too afraid. It felt like that first night together on my bed all over again. Was this me? Was I ready for something like this?

I turned my head, and his lips found my neck instead.

Everything was just so confusing.

How could I want something so badly and not want it at the same time?

A part of me wanted to fold my arms around him, and pray for his lips never to leave my skin. And a part of me wanted to run screaming in the other direction.

The second part came out on top.

I pulled out of his embrace, and held up a hand to keep him from following me. “I can’t. I have to go. I want to try and find Cade before rehearsal tonight, see if we can’t work things out.”

Then I fled the lab, my skin still burning from his touch.

Cade was already gone by the time I made it to the greenroom, and I didn’t manage to get him alone for the rest of the day. I thought about asking to talk to him before rehearsal, but everyone was around, staring, and I truthfully just didn’t have the energy.

But that meant that our third rehearsal started just as poorly as all the rest.

Eric, who had no idea of the offstage drama, was at a loss. I think he could tell that it all stemmed from Cade and I, which is why he sent us away. He said he just wanted to spend some time with the chorus, but still wanted us to get some work done. So, he sent us into a smaller workshop space to work alone… with Garrick.

It had to be a sign of the apocalypse. Things this terrible only happened when the world was about to end.

I envied Garrick’s composure. He didn’t give anything away.

I, on the other hand, was a train wreck in human form.

We ran our first scene together twice. Cade was lifeless and I was pitiful.

No matter how many times Garrick muttered between lines “Wake up.” or “Intensity!” or “Raise the stakes!” We were still awful.

Garrick, who knew what we were both capable of, grew more and more frustrated. He didn’t even bother faking optimism.

“Both of you take five.”

I went the bathroom, and splashed my face with water. This had to stop. If I could act opposite Dom, I could certainly act opposite Cade, no matter how upset he was. He was my best friend, but I had to learn to put my emotions aside and think of him like anyone else if I wanted to be an actor.

Feeling a little better, I made my way back to the workshop room.

Cade and Garrick were already inside talking.

“I know there is personal stuff going on between the two of you, but you’ve got to get over it,” Garrick said.

“I’m trying. It’s not that simple.”

Garrick’s back was to me, but I could see Cade’s face, which was pale and crumpled, like a discarded piece of paper. I choked up, wishing this was all over or that it had never happened.

“You’re not trying hard enough. So, she didn’t return your feelings. That’s life.” My jaw dropped. How could he be so callous? Garrick, who had been so sweet and understanding when I’d come to him about this same fight? “It happens. You’ve got to grow up. Are you an actor or not? You can’t let your feelings for her dictate your life. ”

My mouth went dry, and a hard lump formed in my throat.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way, and said, “That’s enough.” The heat in my voice surprised me, but it shouldn’t have. I hated seeing Cade hurt, and finally it wasn’t just me causing it. Garrick’s words had sunk under my skin, festering, and my hands were shaking with anger.

Cade looked horrified at seeing me.

Garrick didn’t look guilty at all, which only made my anger burn hotter. I walked until I stood between the two guys, blocking Cade from sight.

“This is none of your business,” I told Garrick.

He turned toward me, and his whole face seemed to pull down with his frown. “It is my business when you both bring your outside issues into rehearsal.”

I knew, logically, I knew that he was right. And I knew that he was my teacher, and this was his job, but the judgment in his tone cut me all the same.

And I wanted to cut him back.

“You’re probably right,” I said. “Maybe relationships have no place here at all. It’s a bad idea to mix them, don’t you think?”

He was so calm, which made me want to shake him. I wanted to sink my fingers into his shoulder and shove and pull and push.

“Bliss, you’re being unprofessional.”

“I’m being unprofessional? Oh, that’s rich, coming from you!”

“You and I can talk about this later.” His hand touched my elbow, and I hated that even angry, his touch made my knees weak. I pulled away.

“I don’t want to talk about this later. I just want you to direct. I want you to stay out of my business with Cade. Do you hear me? Do you understand? Stay out of it. That’s all I want from you.”

Finally, something in his calm expression cracked. His jaw clenched, and for a second he screwed his eyes shut. It didn’t feel as good as I thought it would to see him affected. And already I wanted to take it back.

“Fine.” He threw his hands up and repeated, “Fine. As a director, both of you need to get your shit together before next rehearsal, unless you’d like us to start looking at your understudies. You’re dismissed.”

The door slammed on his way out, and I heard the echo again and again in my mind. I was so stupid. This was SO stupid.

I’d almost completely forgotten Cade was there until he said, “Holy shit, Bliss. He’s the guy?”

I could have denied it. I could have told him the whole story. I could have run. But I felt too hollowed out to move. I slumped onto my knees, wrapping my arms around my middle like that would somehow hold me together, like if I held hard enough, the pain wouldn’t creep in.

But it did.

And the empty spaces in me were suddenly full of the words I regretted and the shame I felt and the absence of him. There was nothing more to do, but cry.

It streamed from me slow and steady, rising like the tide, washing away everything I’d loved about our time together.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I spun around, hoping.

It was Cade.

Slow and unsure, he knelt beside me and took me in his arms. I hesitated for a moment, knowing how he felt, knowing how hard this must be for him, knowing that as usual he was too good to me.

Then I couldn’t resist any more. I was already selfish, what was the harm?

I burrowed into his arms, and let go. It was the ugly cry of all ugly cries, but I didn’t care. Because my capacity to ruin good things knew no bounds.

“It’s okay,” Cade told me. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Wasn’t that bad?” I rubbed at my eyes, and my hands came back smeared black. “Maybe in comparison to the holocaust. But as break ups go, I think it was pretty bad.”

He stiffened. “You guys were together? Like really together?”

“For a couple weeks, technically, before I ruined it.” God, no wonder I was a virgin. I must have broken a whole world of mirrors in a past life.

Against all odds, he had actually liked me. Despite the fact that I ran out on him during sex with a terrible excuse. Despite the fact that I still wouldn’t sleep with him. Despite how horrendously fucking awkward I was. He liked me. I sobbed again, because it wasn’t fair.

“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

Struggling for breath, I nodded. “I do. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s stupid. But, but… we met before he was our professor, and I can’t just turn it off. I tried. We tried. I guess I’ll have to turn it off now.”

Cade rocked me back and forth, and even though it was nice, it made me feel young and immature. Unprofessional, just like Garrick had said.

“He’ll forgive you,” Cade said. “I would.”

I wanted to ask if that meant Cade forgave me now, but I was too afraid. So I stayed in his arms, crying and quiet, just in case this was only a temporary reprieve, in case this was all I would get.

By the time we left the studio, rehearsal was over, and everyone else had left. He walked me out to my car, and I started to hope… to hope that maybe we’d be okay. He didn’t kiss me on the cheek like he would have before. He rested a hand on my shoulder. And though it was different, it was enough.

“It will be okay,” He said. And I hoped he was talking about everything… about us, about Garrick, about life.

I needed everything to be okay.

Chapter Twenty- Two

I thought about going to his place as soon as I got home, but truth be told I was afraid. And it was so much easier just to feel sorry for myself. I had a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in my freezer on hold for just such occasions. It would have been nice to share it with Kelsey, but I couldn’t afford to share my secret with another person, and I wasn’t selfish enough to make Cade witness any more of my pity party. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone, and I believed him.

I sat on one end of my couch, eyeing Hamlet spread out on the other end. I wondered if she might comfort me. She had been nice to me only once at another sad moment, so maybe I had a chance. I reached for her, and received not just her usual growl, but a hiss too.

She was clearly on Garrick’s side.

I thought about going to him a thousand times, maybe a thousand and one. But I had to face it—he had been out of my league from the very beginning. He would have gotten tired of me eventually, once the forbidden factor wore off. And I can’t even begin to contemplate what might have happened if we’d been caught. Even the thought of it brought adrenaline rushing through me, like when he’d kissed me in the lab for anyone to see. Maybe I was doing myself a favor, severing the ties now. I mean, it sucked times seven billion, but it would have been worse after more time.

In my dim, quiet apartment in my ice cream induced haze, I could admit that I had been falling for him. Our oh-so-brief relationship had been like spending a day in sunlight when you’ve lived your whole life underground (my former self being the mole man in this story). Maybe that was all we got when it came to relationships like that—flashes of sunlight. Maybe it was too bright to be sustained for any extended period of time. Maybe I should be thankful.

I didn’t feel thankful. I felt miserable (and full of ice cream).

We were in the lab again Wednesday, and he never came within three feet of my workspace. At rehearsal that night, he sat in the top row taking notes, and never said a word.

Thursday and Friday were the same. Though the acting in rehearsals had improved now that Cade and I had patched things up (sort of). We weren’t quite friends again. I didn’t see us hanging out alone any time in the future, but we could talk without any major disasters, and both of our minds had cleared enough to focus on the play.

I returned to my mole man state on the weekend, never leaving my apartment, showering only when absolutely necessary. Any other weekend, Kelsey might have forced me into an outing, but she was still a little ticked about my attitude at the club.

So, I was pretty much alone.

I had no one, but Hamlet. Who hated me with the fire of a thousand suns.

I passed an entire week in a state of loneliness before I had the nerve to do anything about it.

I dropped by during his office hours, too afraid to confront him at home or after class. When I approached the door, he was on the phone.

“I know,” He was nodding, smiling. “I know. I’ll be home before you know it. What is it, just three more months?”

I froze. I plastered myself to the wall outside his door, and my lungs seemed empty no matter how many breaths I took.

“That? No, I’m over it. It really wasn’t anything to begin with… just inconvenient.”

Something was crumbling inside me, something that had already been vulnerable and weak, but now was breaking and breaking.

“I should have known better. I know, but it’s over now, and I don’t really care anymore, you know? Yeah, yeah. I’ll find another place to work. It’s just not worth it.”

Not worth it?

I think, until then, I’d still hoped, even though I’d tried to talk myself out of it.

Hope… it was such a motherfucker.

I wouldn’t cry. He was over it. I needed to be, too. And I needed to make sure he knew it. If he was thinking about quitting to stay away from me, I had to fix that. I wouldn’t be the reason he left.

Before I could change my mind, I reached out and knocked on the doorframe, and stepped into the open doorway.

He looked up, and stuttered over whatever he was going to say next. He stared at me for a second, the phone forgotten in his hand.

Then finally, he blinked, and turned back to his conversation.

“Hey, I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I hated whoever was on the other end of that phone call. Was it a girl? Did he have a girlfriend back in Philly? Had it been just a fling for him, just sex (or well, almost sex)? Whoever it was spoke for another twenty seconds while he said yes and okay and nodded along.

When he hung up, I still had no idea what I was going to say.

He just looked at me for a moment, and then said, “How can I help you, Bliss?”

His formal tone made me queasy, but I tried to copy it as best as I could. “I just wanted to apologize for my behavior during our rehearsal together. Cade and I have worked everything out—“

He interrupted, “I noticed.”

My thoughts stuttered, fleeing for the moment. “So… I, uh, I promise it won’t happen again. In the future, I will maintain a professional attitude. I won’t bring my personal life into rehearsal or your classroom.”

He put down the pen he’d been toying with, and started to stand. “Bliss…”

Whatever he was going to say, I couldn’t hear it. If I had to listen to him try to let me down easy (when I knew he didn’t care), I would end up crying and making a fool of myself. So I cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m over it. No big deal, right?”

He paused and I was certain he knew I was lying, certain he could see into my churning stomach, my wringing heart. I willed him to believe me.

I’m okay. I’m over it. I’m okay. Okay. Okay.

“Right,” he finally said.

I sucked in a greedy breath.

“Great. Thanks for your time. Have a nice day!” Then I was out the door and running, running, running down the stairs out into the air where I could gulp and fill my lungs until I no longer felt like crying.

From then on, I built walls with smiles and closed myself off with laughs. I made up with Kelsey, promising her I would go dancing whenever she wanted. I threw myself into rehearsal, memorizing all of my lines over a week before the off-book date. I willed myself into March like a soldier, moving forward, refusing to look back. Eric praised my work in rehearsals, saying he could feel my shame, my self-hatred in every word, could see it in even my posture. I smiled and pretended like I was glad to hear it.

I set my sights on graduation, when I would leave and go who knows where. Maybe I’d max out a credit card and go traveling with Kelsey. Maybe I’d go back home and work, save some money. Mom would just love that. Maybe I’d stay here, get a job at Target or something. I just had to get to the end. Things would get easier then. Then… I would deal. I’d tell Kelsey about everything, and we’d party the pain away. Then.

I couldn’t wait for Then.

It seemed possible. It seemed do-able.

Until the Now screwed everything up.

We were one week away from Spring Break—a much needed break. Friday afternoon had us all in the black box theatre for beginning directing scene workshops. The entire department was gathered into the theatre—the Junior directors petrified, everyone else ranged from boredom to sadistic glee.

I was just marching forward, willing the time to pass, until Rusty stood to make an announcement before the first scene.

He cleared his throat, remarkably serious for Rusty. “So… I went to the doctor yesterday…”

“And you’re pregnant?” Someone at the back shouted.

“No,” He smiled, albeit a small one. “Actually… I have mono.”

There was a beat before it sank in.

“The doctor said that the incubation is anywhere between four and eight weeks, which means I could have had it as far back as January or February. So… you might want to be careful about drinking after people and… other things.”

January or February. The party. I’d kissed Rusty at that party. We’d all kissed… everyone.

By instinct, my eyes sought out the other members of that spin the bottle game. Their expressions were just as anxious and fearful as my own. If Rusty was already contagious back then, that meant I would have it, along with Cade, and Kelsey and Victoria, and every person at that party.

And Garrick.

 

Damn.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I caught up to him as soon as the scenes were over. Actors milled about still in their costumes. Professors congratulated their students, and everyone gravitated toward their groups, making plans for the weekend. Everyone else seemed calm and happy, and I felt like the world was ending. Walking toward Garrick was up there with walking into a room filled with anthrax.

But I did it anyway.

Luckily, he wasn’t talking to anyone, just checking something on his phone. I stood behind him for a few moments. Just being this close to him affected me. It really was like a poison. I breathed him in, and I could feel it breaking down the walls and protection I’d built.

I don’t know if I made a noise or if he felt me behind him, but he turned and looked at me. For a split second, I thought he would smile. Then his expression changed, and he became wary. Like he didn’t trust me. Then his face went blank.

I had all these emotions and memories pushing against my barricades, trying to spill out into the open. He looked like he couldn’t care less.

I wanted to spit it out and run, but I knew that was a bad idea. It’s not exactly normal to warn your professor that you might have given him mono.

“Can we talk… in private?” I asked.

He looked around the room, and I could imagine where his eyes went. To Eric probably. Maybe to Cade. Or Dom. Whatever he was looking at, he stayed focused there as he said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bliss.”

Yeah, I’d run out of good ideas a long time ago.

“It won’t take long,” I promised him.

He looked at me, finally. I wanted to believe I saw a softness in his eyes, but I could have imagined it. I did that all the time. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could see him reaching toward me, his lips millimeters from my own. But always… always I opened my eyes and it wasn’t real.

A hand curved around my shoulder, and pulled me into a hug. It was Eric. He started talking, about rehearsals and costumes and spring break, and all of these things I just didn’t have room for in my head.

I looked at Garrick, smiling at his boss. His smile was tight, close-lipped. When was the last time I saw that gorgeous grin.

Maybe I didn’t have to tell him. I mean, I wasn’t even sick.

It’s not like he’d made out with anyone else from that party (I hoped). And if I never got sick, he never had to know. Plus, he clearly wanted to just forget our little fling ever happened. I mean, he’d talked about changing jobs for Christ’s sake. And ever since then, I’d been careful not to look at him too long or stand too close or give any indication that I wasn’t as over this as he was. Because as bad as things were, it would be infinitely worse if he were just gone altogether.

Yeah. I’d tell him if I had to. No need to bring it up if it wasn’t actually an issue.

I excused myself, said goodbye to Eric and Garrick both. Then I went back to pretending. At least my education was getting put to some use, even if I never managed to do anything else with it. It taught me how to lie.

***

The last day of school before Spring Break, I woke up exhausted and was so cold that I wore a sweater to Garrick’s class, even though it was spring in Texas. It was pretty obvious, or it should have been, but I was so pre-occupied with surviving the day and getting to the break that I pushed aside my unease.

Garrick let us go early, but not before saying, “Sorry to give you guys homework over the break, but when you come back—I want a definitive plan for what you’re doing on May 23rd, which for those of you not looking at your calendar is the day after your graduation.”

Dom snickered behind me, “Does still being drunk from the night before count as a definitive plan?”

I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes.

“Some of you I will see tonight at rehearsal, and the rest—have a great spring break! Don’t get arrested or married or any of that kind of thing! Enjoy the rest of your day.”

I think there was clapping, but my head felt a little fuzzy. I packed up my things, and decided I didn’t really need to go to the rest of my classes today. I should go home and take a nap. A nap sounded good. I’d be fine after I slept a little longer.

I felt dizzy as I tottered toward the door.

I hadn’t realized everyone was gone until Garrick and I were alone, and he asked, “Are you okay, Bliss?”

I nodded. My head felt like it was full of cotton.

“Just tired,” I told him. I was coherent enough to make sure my response was carefully neutral—not needy or bitchy. “Thanks though, have a good break!” My voice sounded far away, and it took all of my concentration to get out of the doors and to my car.

The drive home was a mystery. There had definitely been driving, but I couldn’t remember the streets or ever turning the wheel, but then I was in front of my apartment, so close to my bed.

I wanted to fall right into it, but my neurotic need to hang a calendar right beside my bed reminded me I had rehearsal tonight. I set one alarm for 5 P.M. so I’d have time to fix dinner before hand, and I set another for 5:05 P.M. just in case I accidentally turned off the first. Then the bed caved in around me, and I was tumbling head long into oblivion.

Minutes later, the world was screaming and it was so loud that I tried to press my hands against my ears, but they were dead, lifeless at my side. I swallowed, and my tongue felt barbed, my throat burned like chapped lips.

Rolling over felt like moving mountains.

The clock read 5:45 P.M.

I blinked and read it again.

5:45 P.M.

The world was still screaming and finally, finally I lifted my hands and pushed at my alarm until the noise stopped.

I swallowed again, but my tongue felt too big. My spit singed like acid on its way down.

Dazed, I looked at the clock again. I was out of time. Rehearsal started in fifteen minutes. Somehow… I don’t know how, really… I pushed myself out of bed. My legs quivered like the floor was a boat and beneath it the sea. There were things I needed to do… I knew that, but I couldn’t think beyond that nagging sense that there was something I was missing. And it was so cold, where was my coat? I needed my coat.

Wrapped in the warmest things I could find, I lurched outside toward my car. The world turned for a second, like a child refusing to sit still. I stuck a hand out to steady myself, but there was nothing there to catch me. I pitched sideways. I didn’t fall, but managed to catch myself, barely. I stared at the ground; I was just so tired. Would it be so bad to be there? On the ground?

It was so cold though. I really should go inside if I was going to lay down… or in my car. Did I have time for a nap in my car?

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog, and something awful rattled around in my skull. It hurt. God, it hurt. I pressed at it with my hands, trying to understand why, and I swallowed again, which hurt, too. Everything hurt. Everything.

I couldn’t stand up anymore. Standing was too hard. I was almost to the ground, reaching for it, thinking the asphalt would be warm against my cheek when something hooked me from behind.

I kept reaching, but I was caught, a fish dangling on a line.

I began to cry because my head was pounding and my throat was clamped down like iron. I still wanted my coat, and I didn’t want to be a fish, and I wanted to sleep.

Sleep.

Someone was telling me that I was okay. The hook was gone, and my pillow held me once more, and I must have been dreaming. Sleep.

Sleep perchance to dream.

***

Something buzzed. I thought of bees. I was flying with bees.

“… Be okay. I can’t tell how bad, but she definitely has a fever. She’s not coherent at all. Mono, yeah. Should I take her to the hospital? Are you sure? You’re sure. Okay. Yes. Bye. ”

I reached a hand out. There were too many words. Bees shouldn’t talk. That didn’t make sense. Where was I?

“Where?” I groaned, then, “Ow,” because everything still hurt even after sleep. My hand found something. Or something found my hand. And it was warm. And I was freezing. I sighed. The warmth found my cheek and I pushed into it, wanting more.

“So cold,” I told the warmth.

And then the warmth answered, low and soft, “ I don’t know what to do.”

I clutched the warmth that held my face and asked, “More.”

Then the warmth left, even though I tried to hold on. Air blew past me, and I was shaking, shaking, shaking. I cried and the tears felt like rivers of ice.

“Cold,” I said. I swallowed, but that felt worse instead of better. I hated this. I wanted it to be over. Please. Please.

Please.

“Please.”

“I’m here, love. Hold on.”

The world fell over, bent sideways, broken. And it cradled me, taking me with it, but instead of dying, I fell into warmth, solid and strong. I clutched at it, wanting to be inside it, to make the shaking stop, to make everything stop.

It was the sun, and it held me in its arms, called me by name, touched me from forehead to toes. I fell asleep cradled in the sky in the arms of a star.

***

When I woke next, my head was clear enough to know that I was sick. I had to breathe through my nose because my throat was too swollen, too tender to stand the passage of air. My muscles ached and my stomach felt hollow. I was still cold, but not frozen solid. Thawed. Sleep called me again. I was still so tired.

But I knew, knew what that meant.

I had gotten mono after all.

Which meant I had to tell Garrick. But that could wait until my head wasn’t bursting and my lungs felt full and my throat was not on fire. Once the fever broke, I would call him.

I shifted, wishing that my knees and my elbows and shoulders would just cease to exist because right now they were nothing, but pain. And then, I knew I was dreaming, that the fever had re-arranged my brain because Garrick was there beneath me, his bare chest my pillow. It was cruel, this fever. But I knew it was only because I had thought of him. I was probably still dreaming.

His eyes were open, staring at me, not speaking, just staring. Couldn’t be real.

“Wish it was real,” I whimpered, before giving in again.

Sleeping.

Sleeping.

***

When I woke again, the chills had stopped, and I was alone. Even though I knew it was a dream, I pressed my face into my pillow, wishing it hadn’t been.

I hadn’t noticed until now, or maybe just hadn’t admitted it, but even now I was falling for Garrick. Maybe I had never stopped falling. Every memory and fantasy pulled me deeper into wanting him. Though still exhausted, this time I had to work to fall back in to sleep.

“Bliss, wake up.”

No time had passed at all. It must be a dream.

“You need to drink something. Wake up.”

I tried to turn away, to crawl deeper into sleep, but something tugged against me, and I was sitting up against my will. Something pushed at my back, refusing to let me lay down, so instead I leaned sideways.

My head met something solid. It wasn’t laying down, but it was close enough. I closed my eyes.

“Oh, no you don’t. Drink first. Then you can sleep.”

I was sleeping. At least, I thought I was. I must have been because out of nowhere a cup appeared in my hands. It was warm, almost as warm as the other hands wrapped around mine.

It smelled wonderful, and I let the cup be pulled to my lips.

Soup.

Chicken noodle, maybe. It tasted salty and warm, but swallowing was too hard. I pushed the cup away.

“Please, love. I’m worried about you. I don’t like worrying about you.”

I knew those words, and it was cruel for my subconscious to parrot them back at me now, when he was no longer worried at all. I looked up, and there he was, perhaps even more perfect in my dream state than in real life. He was the sun. He’d always been the sun—shining and brilliant.

This was too much. I was hurting inside and out.

“I miss you,” I told my sun. “I was so stupid. And now I’ve lost the light.”

He didn’t say he missed me back. He didn’t say any of the things I would want from him. He told me, “Drink, Bliss. We’ll talk when you are well.”

I did as he asked because I was too tired to fight, too tired to make myself face the unreality. Slowly, I sipped, tipping my head back and letting the liquid slide down my throat so I didn’t have to work so hard to swallow. Halfway through the cup, I could take no more. I pushed it away and he let me.

“Now you can sleep. Sleep, love.”

I fell back against the pillows, but I was seized by something else, by fear. I feared losing this… this dream space between worlds where I hadn’t ruined anything. Maybe Cade would arrive next, and Kelsey. And for a little while, my life could be simple again.

Dream Garrick brushed a hand across my forehead. “I think your fever is almost gone. That’s good. You should feel much better in the morning.”

I frowned. “That means I’ll have to call you soon.”

“Call me?”

“To tell you that you might get sick, too.”

His head tilted sideways. Why didn’t he understand?

“You don’t think I already know?”

“Not you. You’re not real.”

“I’m not?”

“Real Garrick wouldn’t be here.” I curled into my pillow, wishing this dream would stop.

It wasn’t nice anymore. It wasn’t real. We weren’t anything to each other… not anymore.

But Dream Garrick, stayed there, his hand on my hair, and I let myself believe it, for a little while longer.

Chapter Twenty-Four

At around four in the morning, I woke in a pool of sweat, my body stuck to the sheets and my face glued to the bed.

I guess the fever was definitely broken.

I placed my hands on the bed to push myself up, but my equilibrium must have been off. My bed felt uneven. I reached back, fumbling for the lamp and flicked the light on. Then because I thought maybe I was seeing things, I flipped it off and on again. I pinched myself. I pinched really hard. But nothing changed.

Garrick was definitely asleep in my bed.

Shit.

Shit.

How much of my fever-induced dream was real? I felt safe assuming that my time as a bee was fiction, as well as a few mythological animals that I swear I’d seen. Then I’d lived on the sun with aliens.

But Garrick was in my bed. He’d definitely been in my dreams, but it couldn’t all be real. Sometimes he flew, much of the time he was naked. And there were a dozen more moments, some fuzzy, some very clear. Where was the line? What had really happened? Hell, was this even real? Maybe I was just dreaming that my fever broke. I was freaking out, and before I had the sense of mind to formulate a plan, I was already shaking him awake.

He was bleary-eyed and beautiful as he came to. I was struck for a moment by the fact that he was sleeping on my pillow.

He was in my bed. With me.

Sleeping.

We were sleeping together!

“You’re awake.” God, since when did groggy and gorgeous go so well together? Wide-eyed, I nodded, not having thought of what I’d say when I actually had him awake.

“How do you feel?”

That I could answer.

“Like shit. Everything hurts. My throat the worst.”

He reached out and set a hand on my thigh. Like that was normal. Like we just set our hands on each other’s thighs all the time.

“That’s normal, I think,” He said. The thigh thing? No, no… my throat. He continued, “Do you need anything?”

I shook my head. What the hell had happened while I was so out of it?

He sat up, and the sheet fell around his waist, revealing all of his upper body to my eyes. The sheet drooped around his hips, drawing my eyes to the muscles that disappeared down into his shorts. God. His hand went to my hair, my hair that fell lank, and oily against my face, a stark contrast to how good he looked right now. He didn’t seem to care.

Again, what the hell was happening?

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

I nodded. Nodding was all I knew how to do, all I understood. Nodding, at least, still made sense.

“You should go back to sleep. You still need to rest. Unless you’re hungry?”

I shook my head.

“Then sleep.”

He nudged me slightly, and I lowered my body slowly, certain that the minute my head hit the pillow this alternate universe would cease to exist.

It didn’t.

He pushed back the covers, and then slipped out of the bed.

“You’re leaving?” I asked.

He stopped, and in quick succession I saw him realize where we were and how little he was wearing. He hesitated, unsure. It was such a strange emotion, one I’d rarely seen him wear. “Do you want me to?” I wanted to pause the moment, study it, break down the second where this bold boy had been filled with doubt. Of course I didn’t want him to leave! I never wanted him to leave!

I shook my head. Glad that fatigue kept me calm, somewhat.

He smiled so wide I forgot that the doubt ever existed. “Then I’m not leaving. I’m just going to get some water. Go to sleep.”

He left, and I turned on my side, reeling. I could hear the faucet turn on and off. I tried to imagine what he was doing. The floor wasn’t creaking, so he wasn’t walking back. Was he just standing at the sink drinking? Or was there no creaking because my delusion had ended and he wasn’t coming back? Had the floor creaked on his way to the sink? I couldn’t remember. I started to panic. Maybe I needed to get up, go after him. Make sure he was real.

Then my bed dipped, and I felt heat behind me, and an arm wrapped around my waist. I stiffened first, and then relaxed so suddenly that I practically fell into him. He was so warm, I felt like I was feverish all over again.

He pushed my hair up and onto the pillow, so that my neck was uncovered. Then I felt something, the tip of his nose perhaps, grazing softly against my skin and the puff of his breath.

“Garrick?”

His arm tightened, his body curved around mine, even our thighs pressed together.

“Tomorrow, Bliss. Sleep now.”

Sleep? The idea seemed impossible, but as his breath steadied and I grew used to his touch, I realized I was still tired. I wanted to analyze what had happened, what I remembered and what I didn’t, but sleep did seem more important.

Garrick was right. It could wait until tomorrow. He would be here. He said he wasn’t leaving. But just in case, I placed one of my hands over his that rested against my stomach. I had thought he was already asleep, but he was awake enough to respond, lacing our fingers together.

When I felt certain, both that he was real and that he wasn’t leaving… when my doubt was gone, I slept.

I woke several hours later. Light was pouring in through my high windows, and my skin was slick with sweat. For a moment, I thought I had a fever again. I sat up, and Garrick’s arm fell from my waist. He groaned.

His brows were furrowed with beads of sweat dotting his face. I pressed my hand against his forehead, and sure enough, he was burning up. He looked awful, but I imagined that I looked even worse. My skin and clothes were damp with sweat, both his and mine. It felt like grime and sickness was slathered over the top of my skin.

Carefully, I shifted out of Garrick’s reach and planted my feet on the cool hardwood floor. Standing hurt all the way to my bones, like they’d been broken and set in the wrong way, and now I had to re-break them to set it right. Each step felt like a nail gun had been taken to my heels, my knees, my hips. It took a hand on the wall just to keep myself upright. And my journey to the bathroom comprised of thirty slow, shuffling steps instead of the usual ten. When I got there, I was short of breath and ready for another nap.

In my pain-addled mind, it seemed very important to be clean first. I turned on the shower, leaving it on the cool side of the spectrum instead of automatically pushing it to hot like usual. I shucked off my clothes, lamenting each time I got off one piece only to discover another layer beneath. When I got to my bra, I nearly gave up completely.

Finally, I was free, but I no longer had the energy to stand for the shower I wanted. Like a child just learning to walk, I crawled into the tub, laying back and letting the water pelt my skin. My stomach, especially, felt so sensitive that each drop stung on impact, like someone was dropping tiny little missiles from above. But even so, it was cool and lovely and I melted into the sensation.

For a long time I laid there, falling in and out of sleep. When my breath settled and the ache in my muscles eased, I pushed myself up, letting the water soak my hair and run down my face.

Shampoo became the villain of my story, stinging my eyes and exhausting me as I tried to rub it in and rinse it out. It felt like hours before the water ran clear enough for me to open my eyes without them burning. And then I couldn’t convince myself to do it again with conditioner.

I turned off the water, and laid back, feeling the water drain beneath me. The longer my eyes stayed closed the heavier my body became. The little pools of liquid on my skin dried slowly, and it felt good to be empty, to be still for a moment.

Then I remembered Garrick, and knew I had been selfish long enough.

The wall of the tub might as well have been a battlement. It took all of my strength to climb over it. Clothing was completely out of the question. I wrapped my hair in a towel and my body in a robe. I grabbed a few washcloths, soaking them with cool water, wringing them out so they wouldn’t drip.

I felt a little more alive now, and I managed to walk without groping at the wall. The pain was there, in the back of my mind with every step, but it was manageable. Even so, it was a relief to sink down beside Garrick on my bed.

I stripped the blankets back, and he shifted, but didn’t wake. I placed one of the damp cloths across his forehead, and another I unfolded and laid across his chest. I used the last to dab at his arms and legs. Even that became too difficult though, so I rolled the last cloth up and slipped it beneath his neck.

Then I laid down beside him and slept.

The next time we woke together. His fever was still going, but I convinced him to drink some water. It wasn’t until I took a drink myself that I realized how thirsty I was. I helped him drink a full glass, and then engulfed two of my own. I had enough energy to shuck my thick robe and replace it with loose pajamas. I placed a new damp cloth on Garrick’s forehead and he sighed.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

I wasn’t sure how coherent he was. He definitely knew I was here, as he’d called out my name a few times since he woke. And he knew he was sick, but I didn’t know how much he knew beyond that.

“You’re welcome. But to be fair, you did take care of me first.”

His eyes were closed, but he smiled. “You’re better at it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It was just nice not to be alone.”

He tried to shift onto his side to face me, but ended up just reaching with his arms, his body still flat. I wrapped an arm around his chest, and pulled, His arms went around me and pulled, too, so that he ended up on his side and much closer to me.

When he was settled, he breathed out, exhausted by the little movement. He said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Needing help? He seemed much stronger and better off than I had been.

“For leaving you alone at all. For getting between you and Cade. For being too stubborn to tell you I missed you. I’m sorry.”

I was confused, the pieces of the puzzle not quite fitting. But I heard what mattered, he was sorry and I was sorry, too. And my brain was too fuzzy to remember all the details of why this shouldn’t be happening. I pulled him to me and his head fell into the crook of my neck. I breathed deeply for what felt like the first time in months. I wanted to ask him about the phone call, about our fight, about everything. But he was still murmuring “sorry,” again and again into my neck, and it didn’t really matter.

I held him tighter, and together, we weathered the sickness and sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Five

We passed days in this manner, wrapped up in each other, in and out of sleep, eating and showering when we felt like we could. It was strange to think of sickness as an oasis, but that’s what it was. When our physical needs triumphed over our brains, we didn’t need to talk, not about our relationship or what had broken it. We didn’t need to work anything out or explain ourselves. I didn’t even have to worry about being a virgin or the idea of having sex with him.

We cradled each other and found healing in the quiet, beneath my covers, away from the world. By Saturday, we were well enough to spend more time out of bed, to eat real food, to watch TV… to talk.

We lay on the couch, my back to his chest, his arm snug around me. We were supposed to be watching TV, but his forehead was pressed into my neck, and I was grilling him on the first days of my sickness.

“What did Eric say when you called him?”

“He wasn’t upset, if that’s what you’re asking. Half the cast is sick now, I think.”

Great. Our show was going to suck balls if we were all exhausted all the time. We could call it an experimental piece—Phaedra Lethargic.

I asked another question. “What did he say about you taking care of me?”

His forehead lifted off my neck. “He doesn’t know. He told me to get you in bed, and you’d be fine. He suggested that I use your phone to call your Mum.”

That would have been horrific. Knowing my mother, she would have asked him when he planned to pop the question right after she found out his name.

“But you stayed.”

“I couldn’t just leave you. I told Eric I wasn’t feeling well either, and I stayed with you.”

“But why?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I do.” I’d heard him all those weeks ago on that phone call, heard him say that he didn’t care, that I was just inconvenient. Whatever reason he’d stayed… I needed to hear it.

He said, “Well then, if we’re doing this, I’m doing it the right way.”

He tried to sit up behind me, but our position on the couch was snug, and we were both still a little out of sorts, so we ended up tangled, him practically on top of me. I was still stuck on my side, squished beneath him. He tried to wiggle off of me, but it was reminiscent of a turtle on it’s back. Finally, he gave up, and lifted up just enough so that I could turn onto my back, and then he lowered himself more gently on top of me.

Despite the fact that we’d slept in the same bed for a week, this was still intimate, still exciting, still terrifying. He held himself up on his elbows as much he could, but he was weak, so his weight still pressed in to me.

I liked it.

“What was I saying, again?” He asked. “Oh, right, that I might be falling in love with you.”

I blinked. Then blinked again.

I blink-blink-blinked my way through a multitude of emotions in mere seconds—shock, disbelief, excitement, fear, lust, uncertainty, and settled on something… something too big for a name. There was a galaxy inside of me—complex and infinite and miraculous and fragile. And at the center was my sun. Garrick. Love. The two were like synonyms to me now. He was falling in love with me? With me?

A brush of his hand brought me out of that universe, and back into the moment. “You could drive a man crazy with that kind of silence.”

“I love you, too.” I said. Then I remembered that he hadn’t quite said those three words. He’d said he was falling in love with me. And there had been a maybe in there. Shit. “I mean… what I should have said was that I feel the same. I’m just falling, too. Because already being in love with you is too fast. That would be crazy. It’s too much, right? It’s too much. It’s too fast. So… I’m not in love with you. I’m not. Not that you’re not loveable, it’s just there’s a difference between falling in love and being in love. And we are the first and not the second, not yet. So, I too may be falling in love with you. That’s what I meant to say. That’s all I meant to say.” I was falling apart. His eyes were soft and unchanging and gave nothing away, so I kept devolving into incoherency. Finally, he kissed me, quickly, but it felt like a punctuation, like I could finally stop talking.

I sighed, “You’re supposed to do that before I start crazy-talking.”

He laughed and kissed me again, a little longer this time.

“I like your crazy talk. Better yet, I love your crazy talk. It’s settled. I’m no longer falling. I am definitely in love with you. That’s not too much, is it?” His grin was blinding and so mocking that I gave him a swift pinch to the arm.

He didn’t even have the decency to look pained. He just kissed me, pressing all of his weight in to me, and it was the best kind of ‘too much.’

I’d always thought too much, too much in my head, as Eric said. But since I’d met Garrick, I had an embarrassing tendency to stop thinking completely. The things that came out of my mouth as a response were almost always embarrassing, but sometimes… they worked out. Sometimes, saying the first thing that came to mind went well. Sometimes simple and honest worked the best.

I hoped this was one of those moments.

“I’m a virgin,” I told him. “That’s why I ran away the night we met. I didn’t have a cat. I wasn’t with Cade. I was just afraid.”

He paused mid-kiss on my neck. Then, slowly, like shifting-of-tectonic-plates-slowly lifted his head. He stared at me, into me, through me. I resisted the urge to hide my face, to run away screaming, to make up ridiculous excuses involving some other kind of animal. I whispered, “You could drive a girl crazy with that kind of silence.”

He reacted—it was small—the skin between his eyebrows pinched together.

“Let me get this straight… you didn’t have a cat? Did you get a cat just so that you wouldn’t have to tell me you were a virgin?”

I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling. I nodded. The look on his face was somewhere between shock and amusement. He was flabbergasted. That was the best word. His flabber had been thoroughly gasted.

“You said you loved my craziness,” I reminded him.

“I do. I love you. It’s just… honestly? I’m relieved.”

“You’re relieved that I’m a virgin? What, did you think I was a hoe-bag?”

“I would never think you were a hoe-bag.” Was it completely inappropriate to find the way he says ‘hoe-bag’ adorable? “But I knew you were hiding something. I was worried there was some other reason you didn’t want to be with me. I’ve been paranoid about it for months.”

“You’ve been paranoid? I heard that phone call where you said I was an inconvenience. You were planning to change jobs because of me. I was petrified if I ever looked at you too long or gave away how much I missed you that you’d pack up and leave.”

“What are you talking about? I was never planning to leave.”

“I heard you. That day I came by the office. You were on the phone with someone back in Philadelphia, and you said you were over us, that it had just been a inconvenience—“

He held a hand to my lips, “Bliss, now I will stop your crazy talk. While our situation is anything but convenient, you have never been an inconvenience to me. And I wouldn’t have left even if they fired me. I was far too enamored with you.” I resisted the urge to correct his use of the past tense. He is enamored with me. He loves me. God, that felt good. So good, I might get it tattooed somewhere on my body.

He blew out a breath, and the blond strands on his forehead danced in response. “The phone call was actually about something that happened before I left Philadelphia. It’s part of why I’d left Philadelphia. “

I remembered that long ago day that I’d asked why he left Philly, he’d changed the subject rather effectively by kissing me. I hadn’t cared then. Maybe if I had, things would have happened differently. He shifted off of me, once more on his side next to me. He barely looked at me as he spoke, “I had a friend, Jenna. Our relationship was a lot like your relationship with Cade. We became friends during graduate school, and even though I knew it was a bad idea, we tried to be more. I cared about her, but as a friend, and nothing more. When I ended the relationship—well, it was a disaster. We were working on a show together. We did a lot of work at the same theatres, and much like the early Phaedra rehearsals—we ruined everything we did together. As a result, I was having trouble finding work and most of our friends had taken Jen’s side, so when Eric offered me an out, I ran. I was so ashamed at first. I’d quit. I’d given up. And I’d lost a good friend in the process. The phone call you heard was about Jen. That’s what I was over. And that’s why I came down so hard on you and Cade. I was terrified you would go to him, even though I knew you were just friends. I was scared you’d make the same mistake I did. I’m sorry. I handled this all so badly. If I had told you when you asked you might have understood—“

It was my turn to stop him with a kiss. I turned onto my side, and pulled him against me. I poured every misplaced emotion into that kiss—the uncertainty I’d felt about his feelings, the fear of my virginity, the remorse over all the time we’d wasted. I let go of all those things, sent them off with a kiss.

“I understand now,” I told him. “That’s what matters.”

“I love you,” he said. I would never get tired of that.

“I love you, too.”

He said, “Can you say that one more time? So, that I can be sure it’s not the sickness addling my brain?”

I kissed him, softly. In our current state, softly was about all we could manage.

“I love you, Garrick.”

It was shocking how not scared I was.

Not anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Six

A gold necklace sat weighted and heavy around my neck. My hair was piled in curls and jewels, and my dress, though sweeping and simple, was heavy and lush. I sat staring in the dressing room mirror as the makeup designer put finishing touches on my hair, and I completed the application of my stage makeup. It was opening night, and despite my heavy costume and jewelry, I felt like I was going to float away.

Excitement rushed faster than blood through my veins.

We were here. Finally. The opening had been delayed a week due to the widespread sickness, but even so, I thought the show was good. Really good. And I wasn’t alone.

Kelsey came careening into the room, looking drop dead gorgeous as Aphrodite. “I know, I know. You don’t have to stare. I know how amazing I look.”

I smiled, just glad to have her back. She’d been the only one of my close friends to evade the dreaded mono, which was incredibly cruel, considering spin the bottle had been her idea.

She’d shown up on the last day of spring break to demand we “stop being prissy girls and make up already,” only to find Garrick and I curled up in bed together. She’d pieced together pretty quickly why I hadn’t wanted to go out dancing that night, and with a wide grin backed out of my room saying, “Don’t mind me. I didn’t see anything. My lips are sealed.” At first, Garrick had totally freaked, but since then she had definitely become an ally.

She smiled at Megan, the designer finishing my hair and said, “Looks great, Meg! You’re fantastic! I think Alyssa needed you for something though, so you might want to finish up fast.”

Megan nodded, spraying the final product with half a can of hairspray before fleeing the dressing room.

Kelsey threw herself into a chair beside me, “You’re welcome. And first, you look gorgeous. I’m a little envious. Shouldn’t Aphrodite have a better dress?”

I rolled my eyes.

“All right, okay. Nevermind. Secondly, you’re going to be amazing tonight. Seriously. Like, give her a Tony now amazing. Third, break a leg.” She leaned in and licked the side of my face, some weird pre-show tradition she’d had for as long as I’d known her. “And lastly, there’s someone else waiting outside to wish you a good show. You’ve got five minutes until warm-up. I can promise you privacy for three, so you better take advantage while you can.”

She placed a quick air kiss on my cheek, skipping toward the door and shut it behind her once Garrick had slipped inside.

“Hi,” He said.

“Hey.”

He stepped farther into the room, and I stood. It was disconcerting to see myself in the dozens of mirrors all around the room, so I focused on him, which wasn’t hard. He looked gorgeous as always.

“You look…” He paused, taking in my elaborate, midnight blue costume.

“If you say cute, I will skin you alive.”

He smiled and pulled me to him. Careful not to smudge my makeup, he placed a kiss on my neck instead, then dipped and dropped a kiss over my heart, just above the line of my gown. I clutched his shoulders, feeling light-headed at his touch.

He said, “I was going to say you looked unbelievably sexy. I’m glad you’re not my step-mum.”

I laughed, “I’m not sure being your student is much better.”

He dragged his lips up my neck, and then brought our faces close together. His blue eyes almost matched the color of my dress, dark and decadent.

“One month,” he said. We had one month until he was no longer my teacher, and I was no longer a college student. One month until it didn’t matter how we felt and who knew about it. One month until we planned to have sex.

It had seemed like a reasonable plan when we were holed up sick in my apartment. It gave me the time I needed to deal with my anxiety, and it held significance since we could no longer get in trouble. But the more he looked at me like that, like he was looking at me now, like he loved me, the less I cared about waiting.

“I wish I could really kiss you,” He said, staring mournfully at my lips, which were full and red thanks to layers of stage makeup.

“Tonight,” I told him. “After the party. My place?”

He leaned forward, at the last second swerving from my lips and kissing me in that spot below my ear that he knew made my knees go weak.

“It can’t come soon enough. ‘I feel all the furies of desire.’” He quoted one of my lines from the show back at me, and that reminded me that we were probably near the end of our time.

“You should probably go before everyone else gets back. Tell Kelsey thank you on your way out?”

“Oh I will. Best thing that ever happened to me… that girl finding out about us.”

I turned back to the mirror, making sure my makeup and hair still looked perfect. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say my best friend was the best thing to ever happen to you.”

Even though he was supposed to be leaving, he raced back to my side and circled his arms around me from behind. He kissed my neck one last time and said, “I love you.” I looked at him through the mirror. We looked good together—he in a suit, me in an elaborate Grecian gown. It was still kind of unbelievable, this thing we had. “I love you, too,” I said.

I stayed staring in the mirror after he left, thinking that I looked different. Not just the costume and hair and makeup—me. I looked… happy.

I heard Alyssa call for warm-up, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my sprinting heart.

Today was a big day.

Our first Phaedra performance.

My last opening night here ever.

And if I got my way, the night I lost my virginity.

***

There are moments in theatre, when everything comes together exactly how it is supposed to happen. The costumes and set are perfect, the audience rapt and engaged, and the acting effortless.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Every actor was on fire.

And I… I lived another life in those two hours on stage. I lived the shame. It was a familiar emotion to me. I lived the hope when word came of my husband’s death. I dreamed that maybe… maybe Hippolytus could be mine. I felt the horror when my affections weren’t returned and when I learned my husband wasn’t dead after all. I experienced the pain of remorse when Hippolytus was killed based on my false accusations. And then finally, I felt the acceptance, the release of admitting my crimes, and it was almost as if I could feel the poison Phaedra took, coursing through my blood, reaching for my heart. It wasn’t until I had crumbled on the floor, Theseus’s last lines had been delivered, and the lights dimmed that I really came out of it.

The clapping started in the dark, and my breath caught in my throat. I fought back the tears that came with experiencing something as perfect and powerful as the performance I’d just had. That was what theatre was about—that kind of experience. We would never be able to recreate that again. Only the people here tonight would ever know what that show was like.

Theatre is once in a lifetime… every time.

It was like the stars aligned, because suddenly so many more things about my life became obvious. Things that had eluded me until now were laid plain in my mind. Everything made sense, and I couldn’t wait to see Garrick. Backstage was in an uproar when we left the stage after our final bows. Friends and family lined the halls between the stage door and the dressing rooms. Eric was there, smiling at us, proud of the show he’d put together. I hugged him first, so grateful that he gave me this chance, and that he didn’t dump me that first week when I was doing terrible.

“Best work I’ve ever seen you do, Bliss. You should be proud.”

I was, God, I was. My face felt split open by my smile.

Garrick was behind him, and even though it was risky, I hugged him too. He didn’t hold me long, just long enough to whisper, “Brilliant,” in my ear.

Then I lost myself in the crowd.

I was slick with sweat, and my dress felt as heavy as another person hanging on me, but I relished the hugs and congratulations that poured over me.

And when I was back in the dressing room…

I danced.

We all danced. Kelsey flipped on her iPod, and we celebrated as we peeled off the layers of our costumes. Our dressing room was filled with flowers, which helped to mask the sweat. When our things were put away, real clothes donned, and our stage makeup removed and real makeup re-applied, we moved the party elsewhere. We were heading to SideBar, the only bar close to campus that allowed people under twenty-one, a must when the whole cast was going.

I was surprised to find Cade waiting outside the dressing room when we exited. He stepped up beside me. “Hey, can I give you a ride to SideBar?”

That was surprising, but certainly welcome.

I told him, “That would be great, but I was planning on leaving early. I’m pretty tired.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “Well, do you mind if I ride with you, and I’ll just find another ride home after?”

“Sure, that’s fine with me.”

We walked to my car in silence, and I jangled my keys to fill the space with noise. I started the car, and immediately turned down the radio. “So, what’s up, Cade?”

He fidgeted with his seatbelt. Nervous. He didn’t answer my question, but instead asked, “How are things with Garrick?”

Frowning, I pulled out of the parking lot, watching him from the corner of my eye. “Why?”

“I’m sorry. Is that weird? I didn’t mean for it to be weird, I was just trying to be friendly.”He looked so uncomfortable. How had we been reduced to this?

I said, “It’s not weird, Cade. I’m sorry. I’m just… a little cautious is all. Things are great, actually.”

He nodded, “Good. That’s good.”

After spending so much time with Garrick, I’d forgotten what it was like to deal with guys who didn’t just say what they were thinking.

“Just tell me what you want to talk about, Cade. Whatever it is, it’s fine.”

He took a deep breath. He was still nervous, but he was no longer fidgeting. “I have a question, but I’m pretty sure it’s prying, and I just don’t want to cross any lines.”

“Cade, I know things have been difficult. But I still consider you one of my best friends. I want you to be one of my best friends again. Ask me anything.”

“Are you guys staying together after we graduate?”

My gut reaction was, “Yes.” Even though we hadn’t really talked about it, not in so many words. We’d implied it, sure, with the whole ‘one month’ thing, but we hadn’t really had that conversation for real.

“Are you staying here? Or moving to Philly? Or somewhere else?”

I pulled into the parking lot, using searching for a space as an excuse to collect my thoughts. That was definitely not a conversation we’d had, no matter how much I had thought about it.

“Why do you ask?”

He ruffled his hair, and I resisted the urge to say, ‘Just spit it out already!’

“Well… I applied to a grad school a few months ago before… well… before everything. And I hadn’t really thought I would go, but I got in, and now I’m thinking I might actually like it.”

“Really? That’s great, Cade!”

“It’s Temple, in Philly.”

“Oh.” That was the school where Garrick had studied.

“And I just wasn’t sure if the two of you were going to be in Philly, and if you thought it would be weird for me to be there, too. And if it’s not, I thought maybe we could still… you know, hang out. If that’s cool with Garrick.”

An image started to form in my mind of what that life might be like. It was a pretty great thought.

“I don’t know if we’ll be in Philly or not. But if we are… no, it won’t be weird. And yes, we’ll hang out. And Garrick can be cool or not cool with it; he doesn’t decide what I do. I meant what I said, Cade. I really do want us to be friends again.”

He smiled, relaxed in his seat, finally. “Me too.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cade wasn’t the only one thinking about the future. At SideBar, we did our fair share of celebrating and drinking and eating, but the talk soon turned sentimental. We shared memories of our first shows, classes we’d had together, parties that had gone horribly wrong. Rusty suggested we could have another make-out party, and he was pelted with napkins and bits of paper and even a hot roll.

Just like with theatre—life sometimes has perfect moments when the stars all align, and you’re exactly where you want to be with great people, doing exactly what you want to do.

Leaving college seemed impossible.

I had never been happier than the four years I’d spent here. I looked around the table as people laughed and screamed (we only had one volume— really, loud). These people were my family. They understood me and knew me in ways that no one else did.

I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

“Uh-oh! Tears alert!” Kelsey cried, “Bliss is getting weepy!”

I wiped at my eyes, and embarrassingly, she was right.

“Shut up! I just love you guys, okay?”

Kelsey’s arms enfolded me first, then Rusty, then Cade, and then I lost count.

Rusty said, “Stop acting like we don’t have a month left together. I don’t know about you guys, but I have one hell of a college bucket list that I need you guys to help me fulfill. Starting with getting super drunk on my last opening night. So, let’s get started.”

I ate and drank, just listening to the stories and conversations around me, soaking it all up. Life was good, and if I had my way, it was about to get even better.

It was harder than I thought it would be to excuse myself after dinner was over. Not because I was nervous about what I planned to do tonight, I actually felt good about that, but because I didn’t want to leave my friends.

It was a funny thing to miss people before you’d even left them, but that’s what I was feeling now.

A little bit of melancholy stayed with me all the way out of the bar and into my car. But it didn’t take long for it to disappear in light of where I was heading. I didn’t text Garrick when I was on my way like I’d told him I would, because I wanted some time to get things ready.

I took a quick shower, and then left my hair loose to dry curly, because Garrick liked it that way. It made me think of that night at the club, and my heart beat faster just at the memory.

I found the Victoria’s Secret bag in the back of my closet that held the lingerie I’d bought specifically with this night in mind. I slipped it on, trying to imagine again exactly what Garrick might think or feel when he saw me.

Looking in the mirror, I felt sexy, like he’d always said I was. I slipped back on the dress I’d worn after the show, not wanting to give anything away just yet. I tidied up my room, made sure there were condoms in the bedside table, and then took a seat on my bed.

I was doing this.

I was really doing this.

I was going to have sex with Garrick… tonight.

Something bubbled up in my chest. At first I thought it was nerves, but then I recognized it. It was the same kind of feeling I got when I first found out I’d been cast as Phaedra and then again when the show had gone so well. It was something beyond excitement, something better.

Because I could, I hopped up on my bed, and jumped. It felt good so I did it again. I flailed my arms because it seemed like the right thing to do, and then I covered my face with my hands and let out the quietest scream I could manage.

“What are you doing?”

Garrick was at the foot of my bed, an amused grin unfurled on his face. I squeaked and plopped back on to the bed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I saw your car outside, so I came over. I didn’t realize you’d already started the party without me. I take it you’re excited about how the show went tonight?”

I climbed off the bed as gracefully as I could (meaning with zero grace at all). I should have expected something like this. It seemed I was incapable of having an intimate moment with Garrick without doing something supremely embarrassing. At least this time it happened at the beginning.

“The show was great, but I’m glad to be home.” I put a hand on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.

“You were great tonight, and now I get to have you all to myself.”

I hadn’t really thought about the best way to approach what I wanted to do tonight. I’d thought about the lingerie and the condoms and the probable pain, but not so much the “Hey, I’m ready to have sex” talk.

I mean, he was a guy, so I doubted very much he’d care about how I told him, but still… I wanted it to be right.

“How was the celebration?” he asked.

“Good, really good. I’m going to miss everyone when we graduate. It’s a little crazy to think that’s only a month away.”

“One month.” He smiled, and leaned down for a kiss.

I think he meant for the kiss to be quick, but I didn’t really give him a choice in the matter. I looped my arms around his neck to keep him down at my level, and pressed my lips more firmly against his. He hummed lightly, and the vibrations tingled my lips. His hand curled around my ribcage, and I wanted it higher, farther in. I wanted him touching me everywhere.

When he was taking too long, I opened my mouth and traced the seam of his lips with my tongue. He let me in, and the taste of him was as addicting as always. With each brush of his tongue against mine, I felt more certain.

I pulled my arms down from his neck, and slipped a hand underneath his shirt, pressing my fingertips into his back. His hands remained in safe places, my ribs and my neck, but I felt them twitch and tighten slightly at the skin to skin contact.

He kept kissing me… slowly, safely.

I slipped my other hand beneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his abs, up to his chest. I hoped he would take the hint and move his own hand accordingly.

He didn’t.

Frustrated, I shifted him slightly until my bed pressed at the back of his knees and then I pushed. He sank on to the bed, and I wasted no time climbing on to his lap, pressing against him in much the same way I had that first night we’d almost had sex.

“Bliss,” He whispered. It was almost a warning, but not quite there yet.

I should probably tell him what I wanted, but the way he was kissing me, or more aptly the way he wasn’t kissing me made me feel unsure, desperate. He still wanted me. It told myself that. And I believed it. Mostly. I just needed a little more reassurance.

I pulled back, and waited for his eyes to open, for him to watch me. When his eyes met mine, they were a bit too clear, too focused for my liking. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress. He made a noise in his throat when I started pulling it up, but I didn’t stop until I had it up and over my head. At first his eyes stayed resolutely on mine, but when I leaned forward, taking care to brush my chest against his, he looked down.

His intake of breath was exactly what I’d been looking for.

The strapless black bra was so tight that I had possibly the best cleavage I had ever or will ever have. And the panties, well, you could barely call them that.

“Bliss,” This time, there definitely was a warning tone. “You’re overestimating my self-control.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I estimated your control perfectly.”

I leaned forward until I was pressed tightly against his hips. My lips hovered over his, waiting for him to kiss me. I was done being on the offensive. It was his turn to come to me.

As always, the anticipation alone was enough to do me in. His gaze darted between my eyes and my mouth, and now that I was down to only lingerie, his hands met my skin no matter where he put them. One was currently scalding my lower back, and other was fisted in my hair. I rocked my hips against him, and his hand in my hair tightened.

“Bliss.” His response was choked, like he was in pain.

I smiled. This was kind of fun.

“Garrick,” I returned, eyes wide and as innocent as I could make them.

“This is the opposite of slow.”

I exhaled, swaying forward so that my bottom lip barely grazed his. I rubbed against him, grinding at the slowest pace I could. I said, “I think we’ve gone slow enough.”

The arm at my back pulled me in more, until my chest pressed against his. He still had a shirt on. I wanted it gone.

“What does that mean?” Ah, there was that look I loved—dark, a bit unfocused.

“It means,” I said as my hands found the bottom of his shirt, “That I’m done going slow.”

I pulled, and his arms followed automatically, allowing me to pull the shirt over his head before his hands went right back into their previous positions. Our chests met, skin sliding against skin, and he groaned. He said, “I’m going to need you to be very clear about what you’re saying right now, Bliss.”

All right, it was time to just say it. And no euphemisms like beast with two backs or horizontal tango or anything ridiculous. Sex. If I was going to have it, I could sure as hell say it. I leaned in and kissed him for courage. To hell with making him come to me. That took too long. When I pulled back, his lips tried to follow. I appeased him with another quick kiss and said, “Make love to me?”

Everything about him tensed—his hands on me, his gorgeous face, and his body beneath mine.

“Bliss, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do for me.”

“What about tonight has felt like I was being forced to do anything? In fact, I feel a little like I’m forcing you.”

His lips crushed against mine—teeth and tongues and heat. It was just enough to make me shake with want, and then it was over.

Garrick was panting when he replied, “You’re not forcing me to do anything. I just want you to be sure. You can say stop at anytime.” His lips pulled wide. “You don’t need to make up a new pet.”

That grin… it was so infuriating and sexy at the same time.

I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed away, standing up. “If you’re going to keep trying to talk me out of it…”

I hadn’t even taken one full step away before he’d grabbed me, and spun so that my back hit the mattress. My breath left my lungs in a rush, and the sight of him prowling above me made heat curl low in my belly.

“I wasn’t trying to talk you out of anything. I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Huh. He’d tried to pull the gentleman card that first night, too. He was still hovering over me, and I looped my fingers into the belt loops on his jeans, and tugged him down on top of me.

“Do me a favor? Be a gentleman tomorrow?”

I was fairly certain he said, “Yes Ma’am,” but then he was kissing me, and I couldn’t care less.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He kissed me hard, and long enough that I could taste more of him in my mouth than myself. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, because I had learned that every time I did, he pressed his hips harder against mine.

If he weren’t careful, I would draw blood soon.

His hands smoothed up my sides, sending shivers across my skin when he passed the sensitive spots. And finally, one hand stole around my back, reaching for the clasp of my bra.

His lips left mine for the hollow of my neck, His chin, once again covered in scruff grazed the top of my breasts.

I arched up toward him at the same moment that the snaps on my bra came undone. The cold air hardened my nipples into little buds, and I ached for him to touch me. He said once that we could own each other, and I wanted nothing more in that moment. Garrick kissed down between my breasts, his cheeks grazing slightly across the swells. I dug my fingernails in again, and his hips pressed down at the same moment that he took one breast into his hand and the other into his mouth. Something sparked beneath my skin, and I moaned, bucking up against him in response.

He rolled one nipple between his fingers, and the other he squeezed lightly between his teeth, and I could feel darkness creeping in on my vision.

Words streamed from my mouth, some familiar, some not.

The last of which was, “I love you.”

He rose up off me with a grin. “If I’d known it was that easy to get you to admit how you feel, I would have done this a long time ago.”

My brain was beyond responding with words. Instead my hands found his belt. I unbuckled it, and then flicked open the button to his jeans.

His cheeky smile was gone now.

Slowly, I pulled down his zipper, and the sound alone made a moan rise in my throat. I pushed his jeans and boxers down together. When he pulled back to shuck his pants off completely, I took the moment to slip my panties down and off, and grab a condom from my drawer.

When he looked up, he froze for a second in shock, as if he just now realized how serious I was. He shook it off quickly, and swooped in for a kiss.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I do.” I told him. I don’t think I could have done it if I didn’t know that. That was what I’d needed. That’s what made the fear, the nerves bearable.

He kissed me again, and his fingers found my entrance. He slipped two inside at the same time that his tongue met mine. He started slowly, then his kisses sped up along with his fingers. I squeezed his shoulders, my fingernails scraping lightly, and was rewarded with a crooking of his fingers inside me.

I moaned, breaking our kiss.

His lips returned again to my chest, placing feather light kisses everywhere he could reach. I could feel a pressure building low in my core, and I pulled his head back up to mine. He pressed his forehead against mine, our lips touching, but not kissing, then his palm pressed down against me, and an explosion ignited beneath my skin. Like a string of fireworks, my world detonated into bursts of light and color.

The world was coming together and crumbling to pieces behind my closed eyes, and my mouth was still open in a silent scream. I felt his kiss below my ear, and I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his middle.

The length of him pressed against me, and my whole body shuddered in response.

“Are you sure?” He asked me again.

My brain didn’t know how to play it cool at the moment, so I said, “Please, God, yes.”

There was a pinching sensation, not pleasant, but the rest of my body was too relaxed to really think too much of the pain. He kissed me as he pushed inside, then broke off with a groan.

“Oh God, Bliss.”

His whole body was tense above me. I could see the pronounced lines of his flexed muscles in his shoulders, in the arms braced on either side of me. I could feel it in the warm chest pressed against mine. I distracted myself from the pain by following those lines with my eyes and hands.

After a few moments, he took a deep breath and gazed at me. He soothed me first with his lips, and then with whispers of “love” and “beautiful” and “perfect.”

He stilled completely once he was inside, crushing his lips against mine. My limbs felt a bit like Jell-O, so I just wrapped myself around him, holding him as tightly as I could.

He pulled out, just a little, before pushing back in.

I breathed out sharply, biting my lip against the twinge of pain.

Garrick’s lips captured that bottom lip between his own, soothing, careful.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

I nodded, not sure I could speak.

“Do you need me to stop?”

I shook my head. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. I wanted him to feel what I’d felt earlier. I wanted to hold him as he came apart in my arms.

He repeated the action, and this time, it wasn’t so much pain as discomfort.

“Keep going,” I whispered.

Garrick burrowed his head into the curve of my neck, dragging his mouth over my pulse point as he pushed in and out again. The next time I was coherent enough to tip my hips upward to meet him halfway. His response was a groan that I felt all the way down to my toes.

His mouth memorized the skin of my neck and shoulders as we developed a rhythm between us. Something pushed and pulled inside of me, and each time our skin connected, I felt the pressure build a little bit more. His hand cupped my breast, and I felt the pleasure snake down my middle to the place where our bodies met.

I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him farther into me. His rhythm stuttered for a moment, his eyes closed, and he was beautiful as he tried to hold himself together.

My whole world was expanding in the circle of his arms.

He started moving again after a moment, and this time he reached a hand between us. I’d worry about how he got to be so good at this later, but for now I was too busy reaping the benefits. I was so close, and every muscle in me was clenched tight. I dug my fingernails into his shoulder one final time, my favorite new trick, and his hips snapped forward.

“Bliss,” He ground out.

I just wrapped my legs tighter against him, and rolled my hips upward. His head dropped to my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He thrust forward again so hard that my whole body shifted and pleasure poured through my body so fast that my vision went spotty. His body stilled against mine, his face still pressed into my neck, his arms cradling me. I lifted his face to mine, watching as his eyes clenched shut and his mouth fell open, and his whole body shuddered over mine.

When his eyes opened, they were still dark, but focused on me. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then each cheek, and finally my lips.

“I love you,” we said together.

He slipped out of me, and I immediately reached for him, missing him, missing the way we fit together. He settled beside me and gathered me in his arms. I laid my head onto his chest, where I could hear his heartbeat. It was just as fast as mine. He laced our fingers together, and pressed his cheek into the top of my hair.

It was perfect.

I was full of perfect moments today.

And I wasn’t sure if what I said next would make it more so or ruin everything, but I’d found that not thinking too much worked well with Garrick. When my breathing calmed, I said, “I looked at apartments in Philadelphia.”

“You did?”

I nodded, still unsure what he was thinking.

“I know we still haven’t talked about this,” I began. “But I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’ve decided I do want to focus on acting, not stage management, and since I can’t afford New York, Philly seems like a pretty good place. I mean, I haven’t made any final plans. I’ve only done some research. You know, looked at some theatres, upcoming auditions, apartments, and day jobs, that kind of thing. But if you don’t think it’s a good idea, I don’t have to—“

“Stop right there, crazy talker.”

This was an awful idea. I’d just ruined a great moment… like I always did. Seriously, I was going to invent some kind of machine to shock me or punch me in the face whenever I did shit like this. It would be like conditioning, and maybe eventually I’d learn to shut the hell up. His hand found my jaw, and titled my face up toward his. His thumb grazed my lip, and his eyes gazed into mine.

“I think you would love Philly,” he told me.

The light was shining again in the form of his smile, and I relaxed into his arms.

“But don’t worry about researching apartments. You can stay with me while you look for a place.”

His face was carefully constructed—the lines smooth, his lips closed and resting somewhere close to a smile. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and said, “Really?”

“And if you don’t find a place you like, you can always decide to just stay with me permanently.”

I reached up, and brushed his hair back from his forehead so that I could see his eyes. “Are you asking me to move in with you? I can’t tell. You’re usually much more direct than that.”

He smiled. “That was me attempting to ask you to move in with me without scaring you off. Did it work?”

I said, “I’m not scared.”

And I meant it.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Garrick

My eyes were always drawn to Bliss during this scene. She was lovely and joyous, and it took all of my focus to keep from rushing to her. Our director had written her own adaptation of the classic Pride and Prejudice, and I doubted she’d approve of me adding my own adaptation wherein Bingley and Elizabeth end up together instead of that surly Mr. Darcy. Bliss’s eyes connected with mine, and even though I was supposed to be fawning over her character’s sister, my character was the last thing on my mind. We moved into formation for a dance where we were constantly moving and spinning. Every time Bliss and I passed, our eyes would meet, our hands would brush, and I’d curse the casting director who didn’t make me Darcy. I could be surly.

Immediately after the curtain call, I found her backstage and pulled her into my arms. “Garrick,” She sighed into my embrace. The words vibrated against my chest, and I held her tighter.

I whispered into her ear, “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

She laughed. “You say that every night after the show.”

I pulled back, and my cheek slid against hers. The curls around her face tickled my forehead. “What can I say? I’m persistent.”

She hummed, her lips pressed tightly together. “Persistent? I’d say unimaginative. You could at least get your own line.”

I traced my fingers over her back. I could feel the stays in her corset. God, I’d love to see her in that. Only in that.

“You want something original, love?”

“I do. Tomorrow, I expect the best line you’ve got, Mr. Taylor. But now, I need to go get dressed.”

She stepped away from me, and moved toward the women’s dressing room. She looked at me over her shoulder, and I felt that look go all the way through me. Several original things went through my mind, none of which I could say out loud. Her grin seemed to say that she new exactly what I was thinking.

“Hurry,” I said.

“Patience is a virtue, Mr. Taylor.”

She knew that name made me mental. It made me feel like her teacher again, which was infuriating and sexy as hell all at the same time. I went to say as much, but she’d already ducked into the dressing room.

I took a moment to breathe and clear my head.

Tonight, my plan started tonight. If I didn’t, I’d probably end up blurting it out with no warning whatsoever. And with Bliss’s tendency to panic that was definitely not the way to go.

I changed out of my costume, and hung it up for the maintenance crew as quick as I could. Tomorrow was our day off, which meant it was laundry day. Good thing too because my costume had definitely smelt better. A few cast mates invited us out for drinks, but I begged off. I hoped Bliss did the same. I wanted her all to myself tonight.

I was dressed and waiting for Bliss in record time. When the first girl came out, she laughed and shook her head. She leaned back in and said, “Bliss, your boyfriend is practically salivating out here.”

Boyfriend. I still wasn’t quite used to that. Even after Bliss graduated, it was awkward when people saw us together. It was nice that we had something fresh in Philly. We didn’t have to hide.

Every girl that exited gave me a knowing smile, but Bliss took her time, longer even than normal.

“Bliss!” I called through the door. “Are you trying to torture me?”

The door swung open again, another smirking actress, but not Bliss. I sighed. The girl said, “I’m pretty sure she is.”

I groaned, and pressed my face into the wall. The door opened, and I didn’t even bother looking.

“Go ahead, Loverboy. I’m the last one left.” I turned to find Alice, the older woman playing Mrs. Bennett. I smiled and reached for the door. Alice laughed, “Good luck!”

I didn’t think anything of her reply until I walked into the dressing room.

Bloody hell.

Bliss was still wearing the corset, sitting in a chair staring at me through the mirror. Her breasts were pushed up and out, and her eyes were dark as she looked at me. She reached a hand up, and started pulling bobby pins from her hair. It tumbled down around her shoulders, and my mouth went dry.

She was stunning.

“I thought I told you to be patient.”

I forced my feet into motion, and walked up behind her. I reached out and helped her with the pins. God, I loved her hair. I wrapped a curl around my finger and said, “I’m good at being patient. I’m just not good at staying away from you. Surely you know that by now.”

She grinned, and leaned her head back into my hands. “I think that’s been obvious from the beginning.”

I dropped my hands from her hair to her neck. I pressed down with my thumbs, massaging gently. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her lips parted. She had no idea how sexy she was. In that corset, she looked like a 1950s pinup girl.

I leaned down and pressed my lips to the curve of her shoulder. Somehow, despite being on stage under the heat of the lights for several hours, she still smelled divine. I dragged my mouth up her neck to that spot below her ear that drove her crazy.

She exhaled, like my kiss had pushed all the air out of her lungs. Her hand curled around the back of my head, pulling me closer. I smiled against her skin.

She said, “You’ve bewitched me.”

I chuckled, and traced a finger along the fine bones of her collar. I could map out the architecture of her body for days and never get bored.

“Body and soul?” I asked, quoting the play.

I opened my mouth and tasted her skin. It was almost as delicious as her groan that followed.

“Definitely,” she said.

“Who is being unoriginal now?”

A knock at the door broke the spell between us. Benji, the stage manager, poked his head in the room. I turned so that I blocked Bliss and that corrupting corset.

“You guys about ready? I’m going to lock up.”

“Sorry, Ben. We’ll be out in just a sec.” His expression was skeptical. “I promise. Two minutes.”

As soon as he shut the door, Bliss stood. I had to close my eyes to keep from touching her. That corset… my God. I kept my eyes closed because that was the only way we’d make it out of here in two minutes. Even so, hearing her change clothes was torture. Every rustle of fabric and zipped zipper brought a vivid picture into my mind. Even though I couldn’t see her, I could feel her presence, especially when she stepped in front of me.

Her hand curled around my neck, tilting my head down. I kept my eyes closed, but the heat of her breath caressed my face.

“Let’s go home, Mr. Taylor.”

That name. I opened my eyes, and she was smirking. Two could play at that game. “Oh, Miss Edwards, I think that might deserve detention.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Or maybe a little punishment.”

I got so much pleasure out of seeing the red rise to her cheeks.

“You wouldn’t.”

Rather than answering, I bent and hauled her over my shoulder. She squeaked, and clutched at my back.

“Garrick!”

“Hush, Miss Edwards. I’m taking you home.”

Benji was waiting impatiently by the backstage door. His frown deepened when he saw us. He said, “First, that was three minutes. I counted. Second, you two are disgusting. I feel like I’m watching some Lifetime movie.”

I just laughed and told him goodnight. Bliss only pouted at first, but when I kept her over my shoulder even as we left the building, she started to struggle.

“Okay, Garrick, you’ve made your point.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no point. I just like carrying you.”

“Well, you’ve had your fun. Put me down.”

I stopped for a moment and pretended to think. I took the opportunity to slide my hand up the back of her thigh.

I answered, “I, for one, think there’s more fun to be had.”

I set off again, and either Bliss was paralyzed or she was really interested in where my hand was going to go next because she didn’t move again.

Until I started descending the stairs to the tube, then she kicked her legs, and gave a swift, warning pinch to my side. “Garrick, I refuse to let you carry me onto the subway. Down, now.”

I could picture her face red with anger, and suddenly wanted to see it. Flushed cheeks. Narrowed eyes. Pursed lips. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I pulled, allowing her body to slide down mine. I kept my hands at her waist to slow her descent. The shifting of her body against mine was heavenly. She sucked in a breath, and when our faces were level, her eyes were not narrowed, but closed. Her lips weren’t pursed, but her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in a way that made my mouth dry. Her cheeks were still flushed, but I had a feeling it wasn’t about anger anymore.

“You did that on purpose, ” she said.

I laughed, and it came out raspy. She wasn’t the only one affected by our closeness. “I definitely did that on purpose. I think we should make this a post-show ritual, actually.”

She shook her head, and smiled, but she didn’t say no. Even under the dim lights of the tube station, she was radiant. I still couldn’t believe I could touch her. There was no one to pull us apart. Nothing to get us in trouble. I was tempted to announce my love for her to all the other commuters, but I didn’t want to break this moment. I liked the quiet way she was looking at me, her eyes filled with more than just desire. She made me happy, and I hoped I was seeing the same in her right then. Suddenly, I was excited to get home and put my plan into action.

I buried my fingers into her hair, and pulled her in for a kiss. Her hands tightened on my shoulders, her fingernails pressing into my skin. I took my time tasting her mouth, losing myself as we waited for the train.

                                                        ***

As soon as we arrived home, I told Bliss I was going to take a shower. Sundays were a two-show day, so I certainly needed it. I let her go in first to brush her teeth. I waited for the water to turn on, then leapt into action. I found Hamlet’s feathered cat toy (the only reason she would ever willingly get close to Bliss), and hid it underneath the bed. Then I went to the closet and found the suit coat pocket where I’d hidden the ring. I popped open the box to look at it one more time.

It wasn’t much. I was only an actor, after all. But Bliss wasn’t one to wear much jewelry any way. It was simple and sparkling, and I hoped she would love it as much as I loved her. A popping sensation filled my gut like those silly candy rocks that Bliss loved.

What if I was pushing her too fast?

No. No, I’d thought this out. It was the best way. I opened the top drawer of the nightstand, and slid the ring box toward the back. The water in the bathroom shut off, and I went back to the closet, shucking my shirt. I tossed it in the hamper at the same time Bliss walked in the room.

She came up behind me and placed a hand on my bare back. She pressed a small kiss on my shoulder and asked, “Get Hamlet for me before you shower?”

I smiled, and nodded.

Bliss was so determined to make Hamlet like her that she played with the cat for at least half an hour before bed every night. Hamlet would stick around for as long as Bliss waved that feathered toy in the air, but the minute Bliss tried to touch her, she was gone.

I found Hamlet in the kitchen, hiding underneath the kitchen table. I reached a hand down, and she butted her head against my fingers, purring. I picked her up at the same time that Bliss asked, “Babe, have you seen the cat toy?”

I walked into the room, and deposited Hamlet on the bed. She hunkered down and eyed Bliss with distrust.

“Where did you see it last?” I asked her.

“I thought I’d left it on the dresser, but I can’t find it. “

I petted Hamlet once to keep her calm, then placed a quick kiss on Bliss’s cheek.

“I don’t know, honey. Are you sure you didn’t leave it somewhere else?”

She sighed, and started looking in other spots around the room. I turned and hid my smile as I left. I nipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on. I waited a few seconds, went back in the hallway.

“Bliss?” I called.

“Yeah?”

“Check the drawers of the nightstand! She was playing with it in the middle of the night, and I think I remember taking it away and sticking it in there.”

“Okay!”

Through the open door, I watched her circle around the edge of the bed. I walked in place for a few seconds, letting my feet drop a little heavier than necessary, then opened and closed the door like I’d gone back inside the bathroom. Then I hid in the space between the back of the bedroom door and the wall where I could just see through the crack between the hinges. She pulled open the top drawer, and my heartbeat was like a bass drum. I don’t know when it had started beating so hard, but now it was all that I could hear.

It wasn’t like I was asking her to marry me now. I just knew Bliss, and knew she tended to panic. I was giving her a very big, very obvious hint so that she’d have time to adjust before I actually asked her. Then in a few months, when I thought she’d gotten used to the idea, I’d ask her for real.

That was the plan anyway. It was supposed to be simple, but this felt… complicated. Suddenly, I thought of all the thousands of ways this could go wrong. What if she freaked out? What if she ran like she did our first night together? If she ran, would she go back to Texas? Or would she go to Cade who lived in North Philly? He’d let her stay until she figured things out, and then what if something developed between them?

What if she just flat out told me no? Everything was good right now. Perfect, actually. What if I was ruining it by pulling this stunt?

I was so caught up in my doomsday predictions that I didn’t even see the moment that she found the box. I heard her open it though, and I heard her exhale and say, “Oh my God.”

Where before my mouth had been dry, now I couldn’t swallow fast enough. My hands were shaking against the door. She was just standing there with her back to me. I couldn’t see her face. All I could see was her tense, straight spine. She swayed slightly.

What if she passed out? What if I’d scared her so much that she actually lost consciousness? I started to think of ways to explain it away.

I was keeping it for a friend?

It was a prop for a show?

It was… It was… shit, I didn’t know.

I could just apologize. Tell her I knew it was too fast.

I waited for her to do something—scream, run, cry, faint. Anything would be better than her stillness. I should have just been honest with her. I wasn’t good at things like this. I said what I was thinking—no plans, no manipulation.

Finally, when I thought my body would crumble under the stress alone, she turned. She faced the bed, and I only got her profile, but she was biting her lip. What did that mean? Was she just thinking? Thinking of a way to get out of it?

Then, slowly, like the sunrise peeking over the horizon, she smiled.

She snapped the box closed.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t run. She didn’t faint.

There might have been a little crying.

But mostly… she danced.

She swayed and jumped and smiled the same way she had when the cast list was posted for Phaedra. She lost herself the same way she did after opening night, right before we made love for the first time.

Maybe I didn’t have to wait a few months after all.

She said she wanted my best line tomorrow after the show, and now I knew what it was going to be.

 

 

 

 

Acknowledgements

Writing this book was nothing short of a whirlwind. I got the idea, and it was different than anything else I’d written before. My sister encouraged me to write it, and then in only a matter of weeks, I had a first draft. Deciding to self-publish was a similarly quick and chaotic affair. Through it all, I have quite a few people to thank.

First, I have to thank my Mother, who instilled in me a love of books. Thank you for being my teacher and my friend. Thank you for proof-reading pretty much everything I write. Thank you for always believing that I was gifted enough to make my dreams come true. To my Dad, I know my choices stress you out. We’ve argued about a lot of them, but you are always there when I need you. This was no different, so thank you! To my sisters, thank you for loving books with me, for listening to me blather on about my ideas, for being enthusiastic about my work when I am unsure, and for putting up with the windmill. I love you.

Thank you to Lindsay and Michelle, my first readers. I don’t think I would have ever finished this book if you two hadn’t loved it as much as you did. Thanks to Ana for being my cheerleader. You know I’ll always return the favor. And thank you to Heather for answering my plethora of self-pub questions.

And last, but certainly not least, thank you for reading! Thank you to the bloggers who helped spread the word, the girls at YA Sisterhood especially. Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!

About the Author

 

Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She’s done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working at Target), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She loves theatre, travel, and anything that makes her laugh. She enjoys placing her characters in the most awkward situations possible, and then trying to help them get a boyfriend out of it. Awkward people need love, too.

 

Follow her on twitter @CoraCarmack

 

Visit her blog () for updates about future awkward romances!