by Serena Grey
“Ohhhh what?” I turn around and see that Aidan is behind me. For a moment, I feel actual physical pain just from looking at him. Why can’t things be different? Why can’t I think of him as just another guy?
I scowl and grab Fiona’s hand. “This party sucks. Let’s go.”
She starts to protest, but one look at the infuriated expression on my face, and she follows me out of the room.
Chapter Eight
Aidan
Liz stalks out of the party. Her friend follows close behind her, trying to keep up. I watch her go with regret, not sure why it takes so little to piss her off.
You’re mocking me, she’d said.
The truth was, I wasn’t mocking her. My laughter, my words…had been a defense against the intense jealousy that threatened to pull me under when she talked about her feelings for the nameless men in her past.
And I have no right to be jealous, no right to want to touch her so badly, no right to want to reach across the moonlight, take her in my arms, and never let her go.
“Hey, Aidan…” My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar face. It’s an actress I know from somewhere I don’t remember.
“Why aren’t we dancing?” Her tone is flirty.
My mind is still too focused on Liz to care about the invitation in her voice. “Because…I was just leaving.”
“Me too!”
I raise an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to dance.”
“That was before.” She links her arm through mine, staying by my side while I go to say goodnight to McKay and Neil Anders, who is in a friendly mood from all the wine and fawning attention.
Outside, a cool breeze teases my face and ruffles my hair. It’s good weather for walking. Beside me, Amanda, if I remember her name correctly, is still holding on to my arm.
“So…the night’s still young.” She gives me a playful grin. “Wanna get a drink or something?”
“Not tonight.” She is attractive, but I’m not in the mood for a meaningless hookup. Somehow, it doesn’t hold as much allure as it should.
Because I’m thinking about Liz.
Liz, who can’t even be bothered to be polite to me.
Liz, who’s not just the star of my play, but also the producer’s nineteen-year-old daughter.
I’m obsessed with the one girl I shouldn’t even be thinking about.
My ride arrives and stops by the sidewalk, engine idling. I hold the door open for my companion. “See you tomorrow.”
She looks disappointed. “You aren’t coming?”
“No. I’m going to take a little walk.”
“You know you could come over to my place for a nightcap.”
I close the door, not bothering to give her an answer before turning in the opposite direction. I should be thinking about the play, obsessing over the minutiae and technicalities, but here I am obsessing over Liz instead.
My fingers are still tingling from touching her for that short second when I smoothed her hair.
Why did I do that?
Why couldn’t I resist my insane urge to touch her?
I walk past familiar hangouts, every word of our conversation replaying in my mind. I consider, then shelve the idea of calling Landon to talk about it. What would I say? I’m obsessed with the beautiful, talented, and infuriating star of my play?
Even if she could stand to talk to me for five minutes, I’d still be crazy to think about her as anything more than a young, impressionable actress. And considering that she hates me, well, I’m crazy to be thinking about her at all.
By the time I reach my apartment, my mind is no clearer than it was when I left her. An image of her face drifts into my thoughts, along with a memory of how desperate I’d been to reach out and touch her. I shake my head. I must have imagined the feeling…or at least, the intensity.
I just need to get through the next few weeks, and once the play opens and I’m no longer spending all day with her in rehearsals, I will forget all about her.
“I’m not going,” Liz declares. Her voice is firm, with a barely perceptible tremor that betrays the vulnerability of the character. “Everybody thinks I’m lying, but I’m not.” She reaches for Kyle’s face. “Why can’t you tell them the truth, why not tell everyone how you feel?”
Kyle steps back. He’s caught between his desire for a headstrong girl on a path to self-destruction and the choices he knows he should make. “You’re acting crazy. God! You’ve been crazy since this whole thing began.”
She reaches for him again. This time, her eyes are large and wet, imploring. Kyle sighs, his resistance crumbling. “Anna,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers, “You’re so beautiful, so innocent…”
“Cut…” I call out.
Liz stops moving but doesn’t look at me. I ignore her and face Kyle. “Look, you’ve been denying these emotions to everyone and to yourself. You’re capitulating to the only other person who already knows your deepest desires. I want to see you surrender. Let go of the lies and denials and admit there’s more than just an innocent relationship between you and this vulnerable girl. You’re saying I’m a liar. I seduced her, and I still want her enough to risk everything I have.”
Kyle throws up his hands. “I get that. I’m trying to give you that. I’ve been trying all morning.”
I ignore his outburst. Next to Liz’s luminous, ephemeral talent, he’s in danger of looking wooden. “You haven’t succeeded.”
“Maybe if you showed me what you wanted…” He gestures to Liz beside him on the stage. “Maybe you can do the scene with her and show me what you want?”
Is he trying to score a cheap point? I’m about to say something dismissive, when I see the look on Liz’s face.
It’s horror.
At the thought of sharing the stage with me.
She schools her expression, but I can still feel her resistance to the idea like a cold front blowing from the stage. Her eyes meet mine, and I can feel her willing me to refuse.
I should refuse.
I should.
Smiling, I leave my seat, ignoring Kyle’s surprise and Liz’s palpable panic.
“I don’t think…” she starts.
“What?” I’m still smiling. “It’s just one scene.”
Her brow furrows, and she turns away.
I know I shouldn’t be doing this. She’s the only reason I’m up on the stage. I’m still unable to resist the urge to push her buttons.
I start the scene with the first line. After a moment’s hesitation, she responds. After that, my awareness of her merges into the desires, emotions and motivations of both characters. She transforms into her character. One moment she’s behind me, her hand lightly stroking my arm, then she’s standing in front of me, her fingers on my face, her eyes boring into mine. “Why not tell everyone how you feel,” she pleads.
I have to tear my eyes away from her parted lips. “You’re acting crazy. You’ve been acting crazy since this whole thing began.”
She reaches for me again. Her eyes are beseeching yet desperate. She’s innocent, tender, tempting, and all my resistance disappears. I don’t care who knows. I don’t care what the consequences are. I’m tired of lying to myself, to her, and to everyone else. I close my eyes, reaching for her, cradling her body, trembling as I touch my forehead to hers. Then I lift my gaze to lock with hers. “You’re so beautiful. So…innocent. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Then don’t,” she whispers, her voice quivering. “Don’t.”
I lower my head. My eyes on her lips.
“Door opens,” I hear Cruz call the cue as if from far away.
There’s a shocked female voice. “What’s going on here?”
That’s my cue to step back from Liz, to face the new arrival with an expression of guilt and shame, but my hand remains around Liz’s waist. My eyes remain on hers. She’s trembling, lips parted. A small breath escapes her, fanning my chin. I can feel her heart pounding as her body presses against mine.
I’m taut as a bowstring. I want to kiss her, so badly I can already taste her lips. The sweet ache of desire throbs in my groin.
Fuck.
Abruptly, I step back from her, and her face goes from pale in one moment, to bright red in the next.
“That’s about what I have in mind…” I’m talking to Kyle, but I don’t meet anyone’s eyes. My voice feels thick.
“I’m...” Liz’s voice is a squeak. “I need a few minutes,” she blurts, half running, half walking off the stage, leaving me with an almost irresistible impulse to follow her.
“That was impressive,” Kyle says. I hardly hear him. My blood is coursing hot, my body drawing me to Liz with an unfamiliar force…a force I know she’s feeling too.
“Everybody, take five.” I go back to my seat, unable to shake the knowledge that I’ll need a hell of a lot more than five minutes to recover from what just happened.
Chapter Nine
Liz
How do you get rid of an attraction that makes it almost impossible for you to function? I desperately need to know. It’s wrecking my thoughts, how I can hate Aidan in one moment and in the next, I’m sneaking glances at him, my head full of fantasies, or getting goosebumps just from hearing his voice.
I can remember with a tortuous clarity how it felt both times he’s touched me. I’m as hooked on him as if he’s a drug and I’m an addict.
“It’s hard to believe it’s your first job,” Kyle is saying. We spent most of the morning taking promotional shots for the play in full costume and makeup. Now, the others are posing, making jokes and shooting fun videos for their social media while I stew in my thoughts.
“Hmmm?”
“I said…it’s hard to believe it’s your first job. It’s pretty sweet working with someone who’s as talented as you.” He flashes me a charming grin and I smile back.
“It’s nice of you to say that.”
He shrugs. “You have something special.”
“Thank you,” I reply, sincerely flattered to be getting compliments from someone who’s been in the business for years.
“Too bad Aidan doesn’t tell you that enough.” Kyle continues. “Why is that anyway? What’s with you two?”
“Nothing.” I shrug and chuckle nervously. My denial is probably as convincing as that of a Disney villain. I’m not lying though. There is nothing between us. He’s just my director. He gives me notes, and I perform. The fact that I can still remember what it felt like to stand mere inches from him and feel his skin under my fingertips, feel his face touching mine, his breath feathering my hair…The fact that the mere thought of that day fills me with intense longing…well, that’s my business.
Kyle looks doubtful. “You sure?”
“Of course.” I laugh. “I’d never met him before my audition.”
“Must have been one hell of an audition then.” He looks at his watch. “We have about an hour before we have to get back to rehearsals. Wanna go get lunch together? I know a place.”
My stomach rumbles as if on cue. “That would be great.”
Kyle’s place is a vegetarian restaurant with a full menu of tasty items, which I enjoy, even though I’m unrepentantly carnivorous.
After lunch, we walk back to the theater. Kyle is telling me a funny story from one of his early auditions, making me double over in laughter as we walk in through the stage door.
I look up and see Aidan standing in the corridor, and the laughter dies in my throat.
Our eyes only hold for a few moments before he walks away, but I feel as if I’ve been hit by a sledgehammer.
Kyle pats my arm. “See you at rehearsal, kid.”
“Yeah,” I reply, my good humor gone. “Thanks for lunch.”
After a short break in my dressing room, I go down to the stage and we spend the next few hours in rehearsals. We do the whole play from the first act, with Aidan stopping us now and then with his notes. By the time we finish, I’m almost too exhausted to move.
“Wardrobe,” Cruz reminds me as I head out.
I groan my thanks and head toward the basement, passing by Aidan, who is talking with a bunch of lightning and sound technicians. They are all laughing and one of them, a pretty woman in her twenties, is standing much too close to him, her face upturned toward his.
Is she flirting with him?
Does he like it?
He says something to her, and she laughs softly. He won’t call you after, I mutter under my breath, feeling resentful, and aching to experience a side of him that’s not barking directions at me, or mocking me. The side of him with those perfect blue eyes sparkling in amusement or animation.
As if he can somehow feel my gaze or my thoughts, he turns around and sees me standing there. My cheeks flame and I hurry to wardrobe.
“Liz!” Clara greets me with a fond smile. She’s a full-bodied woman with a huge laugh and warm eyes. She sweeps a large swath of fabric off a rack and holds it against my chest. “Hmm,” she says, shaking her head and tossing it back on the rack.
“You have such a beautiful figure,” Tammy, the other member of the wardrobe design duo says wistfully, tossing me a dress. “Put this on, okay?” She turns to Clara. “She has the longest legs. Going to be killing them on stage with more than her acting skills.”
“Which are great from what we hear,” Clara winks at me. “Go on. Get changed.”
It continues like that for the next thirty minutes. They chatter non-stop and I can barely get a word in-between. Not that I want to, it’s great to listen to them talk as they work.
By the time I’m ready to leave, the other cast members are mostly gone for the day. On my way to my dressing room, I head to the elevator, too tired to contemplate the stairs. The doors to the small elevator are already open and I rush forward, abruptly coming to a stop when I see Aidan standing inside.
He sees me and raises an eyebrow. His finger is hovering over one of the buttons on the panel, keeping the door open. Faced with no other sensible choice, I join him, keeping as much space between us as possible. It’s only two floors, so at least I only have to spend a few seconds trapped in the small space with him.
The doors close.
I can feel him looking at me, but I concentrate on a spot above the closed doors.
“Isn’t Kyle a little too old for you?”
I pause a moment before turning my gaze to meet his. He’s watching me, one eyebrow raised. Why is he so cute, so infinitely beautiful to look at? Why is he such a dick, and why do I even care?
“Screw you,” I mutter under my breath.
He chuckles. “Language, Liz.”
The elevator stops and the doors slide open. He follows me into the empty corridor. I should walk away, but I hate that he’s having fun taunting me.
I swing around to face him. “Let me translate,” I snap. “It’s not your business what I choose to do with Kyle or anyone else.”
“Isn’t it?” He takes a step toward me. “I’m very invested in the success of this play, and that success should be your major concern, not exploring your teenage fantasies of love and romance.”
I flinch. If only he had a clue who really features in my fantasies. “You know,” I start with a bitter smile. “Before I met you, I thought the world of you, but every day you’ve gone out of your way to show me what a dick you really are.”
A shadow crosses his face. “Maybe you should stop building people up in your head before you get to know them.”
“Maybe I will, that way I won’t be disappointed again.”
“While we’re on the topic of disappointment, your main concern should be trying not to disappoint me, and the audience paying to see you perform.”
Anger clouds my vision and I want to scream. “Oh, I won’t disappoint them. I will give them the best performance they’ve ever seen. They will love me. You know that, Aidan. You’ve known it since the audition. So, stop pretending that my talent or dedication will ever be a problem.”
My outburst
carries me toward him until I’m looking up into his face. Once I stop talking, I realize how close we’re standing. Blood rushes through my body, spreading warmth up my neck and into my face. But I don’t back away, and neither does he. His gaze slides to my lips and his eyes darken with an expression that makes my stomach tighten.
“No.” His voice is a soft whisper. “That has never been the problem.”
I know what’s going to happen next. I see it in his eyes, and in the way his body tenses, but still, when it finally happens, when he closes the tiny distance between us and covers my mouth with his, I’m not ready for it.
My heart explodes. The world lurches hard. Sensations hit me like a burst of cannon fire, touch and taste and smell. I’m enveloped by him, overtaken, captured, overwhelmed. Something bursts inside me like tension giving way to an explosion of freedom. I scream in silent exultation, straining closer to feel more of him, his lips, his chest, his hands.
His hands circle my arms, his fingers flexing on my skin. My body arches toward his. My breasts brush his chest, tingling with an urgent sensitivity. A soft sound escapes my lips.
It had never felt so good to kiss anyone.
It had never felt so terrible for a kiss to end.
He holds me steady as he backs away, hurriedly, as if I scorched him somehow. He’s frowning as he releases my arms.
I don’t need for him to say a word. I can see the regret painted on his perfect features, and in the face of that regret, the pleasure I experienced at his touch feels tainted, somehow. I recoil.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, tousling it even more.
“Language, Aidan,” I say wryly.
He doesn’t laugh. His eyes are still burning, but he holds himself away from me as if coming close to me would burn him up.
“Liz…”
I shake my head, stopping him from saying whatever it is he plans to say. “Goodnight,” I mumble, then I turn around and walk away.
