Roommate Romance

by Maggie Riley

  Emily shut the book abruptly, catching Josh’s finger in the process.

  “Ouch!” he said.

  “That’s all I have so far,” Emily explained.

  “That is very impressive,” I told her. “Have you picked a play that you want to do?”

  Even though Emily didn’t really understand the specifics of what I did, she understood enough to know that it involved people performing. Which gave her a better understanding than most people in my family. And she loved performing. It was the one thing we didn’t have in common.

  She nodded vigorously. “I want to do Robin Hood,” she said. “The Disney one.”

  “Well, that’s not really a play,” I told her. “But I think we can make it work.” I began thinking about how I could get her something resembling a script. Likely I would have to watch the movie and just type it all out. I added that task to my mental to-do list, which I would later add to my actual to-do list on one of my apps.

  Emily clapped her hands together. “I want to be in it,” she said.

  “You want to act and stage manage?” I asked her. “That’s a pretty big responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said with complete and utter confidence.

  “Do you know who else you want to be in it with you?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. She only had one permanent acting partner.

  “Uncle Josh!” she said.

  “You want him to be Robin Hood?” I asked.

  “Nooooooo,” she sighed as if I were the dumbest aunt in the world. “I want to be Robin Hood.”

  Score one for feminism, I thought.

  “OK, is Uncle Josh going to be Little John?”

  Emily shook her head. “Uncle Josh is going to be Maid Marian!”

  Behind her, Josh put his head in his hands as I burst out laughing. Maybe I would plan a visit home, because this was a play I couldn’t wait to see.

  Chapter 10

  SHANE

  Allie had done a pretty good job avoiding me since our unexpected kitchen make-out and awkward elevator trip the following morning. She was either already in the bedroom with the door closed when I came home, or she snuck in after I had fallen asleep on the couch. I had barely caught a glimpse of her for the past few days.

  Unfortunately for her, the self-imposed standoff was about to come to an end. My sister was coming over tomorrow and I had promised to ask if Allie could help her with her audition. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for my sister. Including talking to a gorgeous babe who wouldn’t admit that she was hot for me. So that meant I spent the afternoon in the apartment, doing work on my laptop, instead of downstairs in my workshop. She wasn’t going to sneak past me tonight. Surely we were capable of having a conversation without grabbing each other. Right?

  At around ten, the front door opened, and Allie snuck in, apparently not yet noticing that the lights were still on. I was sitting on the couch answering emails.

  “Hey,” I said, and she jumped.

  I shouldn’t have found that amusing, but I did. There was something completely adorable about how skittish I made her. Of course, skittish wasn’t the main feeling I hoped to inspire in her, but whatever, I’d take what I could get. For now.

  “Hi,” she said, already making a beeline for her room.

  Before she could, however, I rose from the couch and stepped in her way. She was wearing her usual black—tight black jeans, tight black shirt and sexy black boots. She looked hot. Fucking hot. Desire rushed through me and I had to stop and take a breath. Clearly jerking off in the shower was not doing enough to calm my need for this stubborn, standoffish stage manager.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”

  She blushed. The red spread from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. Her incredibly sexy chest. I forced myself not to stare. It wasn’t easy. She was nice to look at. Really nice.

  “Unless you want me to, of course.” I winked at her.

  She pursed her lips together tightly.

  I laughed and continued. “I have a favor to ask you.”

  “A favor?” She looked surprised and then suspicious.

  “It’s more a favor for my sister,” I told her, and she relaxed a little.

  “Megan, right?”

  I nodded. “She’s a freshman at NYU and in the theatre program. Apparently there are auditions for the fall play and she keeps forgetting parts of her monologue.” I lifted my hands helplessly. “And I’m completely hopeless when it comes to that stuff.”

  Allie didn’t look surprised at that. I tried not to take it personally. After all, nothing about me really screamed “theatre expert.”

  “I told her you might be able to help her with her audition.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I’m not an actor,” she reminded me.

  “Yeah, but you’re a theatre person.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You must have sat through auditions at some point, right? Or at least have an idea of what they’re looking for?” I was sure I looked a little desperate. The last thing I wanted was to let down my sister. Or give her an excuse to drop out of a school I could barely afford to pay for.

  She looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess I know a little about auditions. I used to help Liz rehearse for hers.”

  I did a mental fist punch. “Right—you both went to NYU, didn’t you?”

  Allie nodded.

  “Megan is coming over tomorrow. Do you think you could spend an hour with her going over her monologue?”

  “Of course,” said Allie. She paused and then gave me a slow assessing look. “You’re a pretty good brother, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I try to be.” I tried to brush it off. “It’s been just the two of us for a few years now. We have to stick together.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” She paused. “What happened? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “It was a car accident. But we’ve managed,” I said, quickly moving on. The last thing I wanted from Allie was sympathy. “Do you have any siblings?”

  She nodded. “Three. All older. Two sisters and a brother. All of them are still in Nebraska where my folks are.”

  A Midwest girl. That made sense now that I thought about it.

  Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I reached out and tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes as my hand brushed her face, her lips parting. Everything about her was appealing. All I wanted to do was lean forward and press my own mouth there. To taste her again. Touch her again.

  But I didn’t.

  “Thanks,” I told her, stepping back. “For helping Megan out.”

  She opened her eyes and blinked at me. “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice low and husky. Hot.

  My heart did a little flip and I had to shove my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her again. She was so soft. So warm. But I didn’t kiss women who didn’t want to be kissed. Even though Allie looked like someone who really needed to be kissed. And kissed. And kissed again.

  But she stepped back and the spell was broken.

  “OK,” she said, clearing her throat. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  I nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  “Good night,” she said, half whispering.

  Before I could respond, she turned and fled into the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. I stared at the closed door, and with a sigh, went to take a long, cold shower.

  Chapter 11

  ALLIE

  Megan looked exactly like her brother. Same brown hair and incredible blue eyes. She was tall and athletic and completely gorgeous. If she was half as talented as she was beautiful, she wouldn’t have any trouble getting work as an actress. Unfortunately, it became pretty evident after her first attempt at reciting her monologue that Megan had a terrible, paralyzing case of stage fright.

  I sat on the couch, trying to keep my face neutral as Megan stumbled an
d stammered through one of Kate’s monologues from Taming of the Shrew. Shane sat next to me, his fingers drumming on his knee. He seemed almost more nervous than her, and from the way Megan’s gaze kept darting over to him, I could tell that it was distracting her.

  Without thinking, I reached over and put my hand over Shane’s. He immediately stilled. But before I could withdraw, he quickly reversed the position, trapping my fingers beneath his, my palm pressing against his thigh. His very muscular thigh. Heat sparked inside me, spreading across my chest and up to my cheeks. I tried to move my hand, but Shane’s grip was firm.

  I shot him a sideways glance, but he was looking forward, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. A mouth I could still feel against mine. A mouth I desperately wanted to feel against mine again. And again. And again.

  Stupid, slutty body.

  In front of us, Megan rushed through the end of her monologue.

  “ ‘Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot. And place your hands below your husband’s foot; in token of which duty, if he please. My hand is ready, may it do him ease.’ ”

  Breathless, she looked at us, her eyes wide and nervous.

  Releasing my hand, Shane began clapping, his face bright with brotherly pride.

  “That was great,” he said, and seemed to mean it.

  Megan and I exchanged a look. It was obvious that both of us knew that it had not been great. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to figure out what I could do to help. The truth was, I completely understood how Megan felt. She wasn’t the only one with crippling stage fright. Like a lot of theatre nerds, I had once entertained the thought of being an actress. But only briefly. It had taken one horribly disastrous theatre class as a kid to prove to me that getting up on a stage was a bad idea for everyone involved. I had read through all the parts without stopping and then in my hurry to exit, tripped over my feet, fell into the set, and broke one of the backdrops. And my leg.

  But I still loved the theatre. So I had long accepted—and embraced—the fact that my talents were put to better use backstage instead of on one. It was a decision that suited me just fine. However, I was pretty sure that suggesting Megan do the same wouldn’t be the kind of feedback she was hoping for.

  “I’m a mess, aren’t I?” Megan asked miserably, likely taking my silence as an indication of her hopelessness.

  “No, no,” I said quickly. I was a problem solver. I would find a solution. I always did.

  “It’s OK,” she said, her shoulders slumping, looking utterly defeated. “I guess I kind of suspected I was a lost cause.”

  “I thought it was great,” Shane reminded her, clearly thinking he was being helpful.

  Megan gave him a look. “You thought Taming of the Shrew was a musical,” she said.

  I laughed.

  “I was joking,” Shane muttered under his breath.

  “Why don’t you give Megan and I some privacy?” I suggested.

  It was pretty obvious that Megan needed some honest criticism and she wasn’t going to get that from her brother. Not that she should. It was better that Shane was as supportive as he was. She was going to need a positive force in her life if she wanted to pursue something like this. Someone who wasn’t going to ask her to move back to Nebraska just because things hadn’t gone exactly as they had planned. OK. It was possible I was projecting a little bit, but I was still upset over Josh’s about-face.

  “Yeah, OK.” Shane grabbed his jacket. “I’ll be down in the shop.”

  I wondered what it was like down there—if it smelled even more amazing than Shane did. And what kind of things he did with his hands. I made a mental note to ask him about it, which I quickly rescinded, remembering that I didn’t need to know anything more about him. If anything, I needed to erase the things I did know. Like how good his hands had felt pulling my dress up to my waist and sliding along my inner thighs.

  Megan waited until the door had closed behind him before collapsing onto the couch next to me, putting her face in her hands.

  “I’m the worst.” Her voice was muffled through her fingers.

  I patted her on the back. “I can say with complete confidence that you are absolutely not the worst. I once saw an audition that ended with the girl projectile vomiting onto the poor assistant who had to read with her.”

  Megan lifted her head, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”

  I shook my head. “Another time, a guy did an entire monologue and song with his fly totally unzipped. He was going commando.”

  “No!” Megan burst out laughing.

  “It was pretty awkward for all of us. Needless to say, he didn’t get the part.” I smiled back at her. “So trust me when I say that was in no way that worst audition I’d ever seen.”

  Megan sobered a little. “But it wasn’t good.”

  I could tell it was important I was honest with her. So I was.

  “No,” I told her. “It wasn’t good.”

  She let out a frustrated breath and leaned back. “Maybe I should just give up.”

  “Why? Because you’re nervous about your first audition?” I patted her hand. “Everyone gets nervous. You just need to practice.”

  “I am practicing.” Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s all I do. Practice this stupid monologue. And I still suck.”

  “Maybe you’re letting your nerves take over,” I told her. “What is the worst that could happen when you get up there?” I asked, thinking about my terrible audition.

  “I completely choke,” Megan said.

  “Well, when I’m nervous about things, I find that it makes me feel better to make a list of everything that is making me nervous. Sometimes seeing it all written out makes it seem less scary.” Occasionally it made it seem more scary, but I didn’t mention this to Megan. After all, it was the only advice I could think of to give her.

  “A list?” Megan looked skeptical.

  Then I remembered something I had heard Liz say when she talked to her other actor friends. “Or try this. Try to find a way to stop worrying about the audience and just focus on the words and what they mean to your character.”

  “But the audition is in two weeks!” Megan wailed.

  “When?” I asked.

  “Next Friday,” she told me, still looking miserable.

  I mentally ran through my schedule. “I don’t know if this will help, but if you want to come and practice in an actual theatre, I’m stage managing an off-Broadway show and you’re welcome to come and use the space while I set up for rehearsals. And maybe some of the actors there will be able to give you some tips.” Hopefully they wouldn’t suggest that she strip down and walk around the room touching things.

  Megan’s face brightened. “Really?” she asked. “You’d let me come use the theatre?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote out my number. “I’m usually there around noon. Just let me know if you want to come by.”

  “Thank you so much, Allie.” Megan gave me a hug. “And thanks for being honest with me. Shane means well but he doesn’t know anything about acting.”

  “Your brother is just trying to be supportive,” I told her.

  “I know.” She gathered up her stuff. “But I’m glad he asked you for help.”

  I shrugged, hoping to look casual, but the gleam in Megan’s eyes indicated that she was drawing her own conclusions about why I had done Shane this favor. She didn’t voice any of those suspicions, but she didn’t have to.

  But before I could correct her, she pulled on her coat.

  “I better go say goodbye,” she said and gave me another hug. “Thanks again for all your help. I really, really appreciate it.”

  SHANE

  I was sanding down a table when Megan came into the workshop. The smile on her face indicated that her one-on-one with Allie had been helpful. Putting down my sander, I pulled off my goggles and headed over to her.

  “You’re a mess,” she said, brushing the sawdust out of my hair.

  In
response, I gave my head a shake and sent a cloud of the wood shavings into the air and onto her shoulders.

  “Jerk.” Megan gave me a playful shove.

  “How’d it go?” I asked, resting a hip on one of my workbenches.

  “Good,” she said, the sparkle already returning to her eyes. “Allie said I can come rehearse at the theatre and she’ll introduce me to some of the actors there.”

  “That’s great,” I told her, not at all surprised by Allie’s generosity.

  “She also told me to make a list,” Megan said with a smile.

  “Of course she did.” I grinned. “She loves lists.”

  “You know.” Megan gave me a once-over. “She’s really nice.”

  “She is nice,” I agreed hesitantly. I knew my sister. I knew that expression. I knew when she was up to something. I knew when to tread carefully. And this was one of those moments for sure.

  “And pretty,” Megan added innocently.

  Yep. There it was. Meddling.

  Crossing my arms, I gave her a look. “Spit it out, Megan,” I ordered.

  “I’m just making an observation.” Megan batted her eyes at me. “I saw you holding her hand on the couch.”

  Right. Of course my eagle-eyed, meddling sister would have noticed that.

  “We weren’t holding hands,” I corrected her. Because Allie had been holding my thigh, which was infinitely better than holding hands. Still not the body part I was wishing she would hold, but getting closer.

  “Sure.” Megan rolled her eyes in disbelief. “I like her.”

  “She’s very likeable.”

  “You don’t usually like girls who are likeable,” she told me.

  “What are you talking about?” I tried to remember the girls I would have brought home when Megan was younger. “My girlfriends were likeable.”

  “Not to me,” Megan said. “I didn’t like them at all.”

  “Wait, what?” That shocked me. I had made sure to keep my dating to a minimum after the accident, but I’d had a pretty healthy sex life before that. Girls who never really stuck around. But now that I thought about it, my standards for women hadn’t been very high back then. Not that I thought Megan had ever noticed my socializing habits.