I thought about A Streetcar Named Desire.

Of Blanche’s biting loneliness that seeped so deep she didn’t even know what she was lonely for anymore. Blanche—like Grams—sat at home all day, her demons often her only companion.

I thought about the cruelty in giving someone freedom they didn’t know what to do with.

Grandma Savvy always used to say, if you’re not scared, you’re not brave.

Right now, I was one out of the two, but for her, I needed to be both.

I sat at the back row of the theater, watching as Tess and Lauren butchered the roles of Stella and Blanche, respectively, during rehearsal.

Tess wasn’t bad, but she kept overacting to compensate for her loss to Lauren for Blanche’s role.

She also complained about it, often.

“Blanche has so much more meat! Stella is meek and timid.”

“Grow up, Tess. Learn how to be graceful in defeat.” Lauren snorted.

“I never lose,” Tess replied, her tone taking an edge I’d never heard before.

Lauren tossed her hair and smiled at her serenely. “That so? Then how come you’re not on West. St. Claire’s arm right about now?”

Aiden, who played Stanley, wasn’t exceptionally bad either, but he needed to tone down his frowning and glaring. He looked so constipated I worried people would throw Pepto-Bismol onstage instead of flowers at the end of the show.

About halfway through rehearsal, someone slid into the seat next to me. Peculiar, seeing as all the other seats were empty. Even though I didn’t turn to look at him, I knew exactly who it was. It frightened me that I recognized him so quickly.

His scent of winter, candy apple, and alpha male. Wild and unique.

I balanced my feet on the back of the seat in front of me, trying to refocus on the actors onstage. I was still mad at West. Mainly because he’d screwed someone else last Friday while mumbling my nickname. But the official reason was him embarrassing me to no end by making a big stink out of how Reign had treated me. I’d sailed through college ignoring the odd taunt. Reign De La Salle was one of many idiots I’d learned to overlook. West had redirected the limelight to my face again, and now everybody was talking about me—my story, my face, my hopeless future.

It was like high school all over again.

West draped his muscular arm over my headrest. His body language was indifferent, dripping confidence; he took something out of his front pocket—a small planner—and dropped it in my lap.

“Circle the date.”

I ignored him, still glaring at the stage.

“When you’re letting me out of the doghouse,” he explained.

I pressed my lips together, resisting a faint smile, pouring metaphorical lava over the butterflies swirling in my stomach, taking flight upwards to my chest.

They were exactly the reason keeping my distance from him was a good idea.

The man had heartbreak written all over him.

“No can do. This planner doesn’t go beyond mid-next year,” I drawled, my eyes still trained on the stage. I didn’t need to look to know planners didn’t go beyond twelve months. Tess threw her head back during a scene, trying to steal Lauren’s limelight.

The scene was cut due to the fact Lauren stumbled all over her lines.

“Dang it! She threw me off focus.” Lauren stomped, choking the manuscript in her hand.

Tess parked her fists on her waist, puffing her cheeks.

“Nothing should throw you off when you’re in the zone. I’m a method actor, Lauren. Untouchable once I get into character. I’ve been telling Professor McGraw for weeks that I should be Blanche. I was born for the role.”

Secure in her stance she’d been robbed out of the role while Lauren tried to memorize her next few sentences, Tess’ feline eyes began to wander the rows. They stopped and widened, a glint of excitement zinging through them when she noticed us. She gave us a wave.

“West! Grace! Howdy!”

I waved back. West jerked his chin forward, a barely noticeable hello, and cut his gaze back to me.

“What about probation?” he asked. “It’s my first offense.”

I shook my head. “Third. You’ve been gettin’ on my nerves since day one.”

“Damn you, woman, you think working with you is a picnic?” He bristled.

“I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t butt into your business and draw unwelcome attention to you,” I pointed out.

“What am I charged with here exactly?” He rearranged his mammoth frame in his seat, his whole body angled toward mine now.

“You made a big stink out of what De La Salle said, and now I’m this pathetic emo kid who is at your mercy. You made me look helpless. Weak. A charity case.” I turned my head, meeting his eyes.

The twinge in my chest became a full-on pull.

“So, you’re mad at me for sticking up for you?” His eyebrows pinched together.

“I can fight my own wars.”

“Bullshit. You’ve never once shown up for battle.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You are my business.” He examined me, greatly enjoying the way my entire face turned pink under my makeup.

“I figured I am. I just wonder why that is. Did you need a pet project? I thought you had plenty on your plate already.”

“Because you’re my friend.” His eyes narrowed into two slits of grim resolution. That was it. I was his friend, and I didn’t have a say in this. “When someone disrespects my friends, they disrespect me. And nobody disrespects me. We clear about that?”

I turned my head to the stage, but only because I didn’t trust myself not to launch at him with a hug. I’d never had anyone burst into my life, kicking the door down on their way in, and stick around after realizing how truly broken I was.

West was the first person to insist on being my friend, whether I was interested or not. It was unchartered territory for me. My instincts told me to push him away before he did the dumping, but every single cell in my body screamed to let him in.

He threw his arms in the air, exasperated. “Fine. You want me to back off? You got it. Either way, the asshole won’t bother you anymore, so there’s that.”

“Woo-hoo. Thanks, Captain St. Claire.” I fist-pumped the air mockingly. Now I had West’s word he wasn’t going to butt into my life. But I still wasn’t placated. If anything, after the initial exhilaration of West seeking me out publicly at the auditorium, I was even angrier than before.