Roommate Romance
Page 14
I sighed.
“Mom—” I started, but she wasn’t even finished.
“And I saw Kevin again,” she told me. “He’s such a nice boy. I don’t understand why the two of you couldn’t make it work.”
She knew. I knew. Kevin knew. We hadn’t been able to make it work because of me. Because what I wanted wasn’t what Kevin wanted. He didn’t want a girlfriend whose job came before him.
“Mom—” I tried to stop the conversation, but she didn’t listen.
“You’ve been gone long enough, Allie—it’s time for you to come home.”
“I’m not—”
She was on a roll, her eyes bright. “You’re being selfish, you know. Denying your nieces and nephews a chance to get to know you. Denying us a chance to see you.”
“You can always come visit—”
“We miss you.”
“Mom!” I massaged my temple. “Stop, please.”
She finally did, looking at me with a startled expression.
“Please listen to me,” I told her, my voice slow and steady. “I’m not interested in a job in Nebraska. Or a man. Especially Kevin. I love New York. And I’m staying.”
There was a long, tense silence, and my mom’s mouth straightened into a hard, thin line.
“Well,” she huffed. “Excuse me for caring.”
And then she stomped off, my dad following behind her. I looked at my sisters, hoping for some sort of sympathy, but they just had identical looks of disappointment.
“You didn’t have to be so mean, Allie,” my eldest sister said. “She’s just trying to help.”
“You are being selfish, you know,” my other sister told me.
I put my face in my hands, expecting the call to shut off. Instead, I just heard some shuffling and whispering. Then a door closed and I heard Josh’s voice. I looked up and it was just him on the screen.
“Are you going to tell me that I’m being selfish for wanting to pursue a career of my choosing? That they’re just trying to be helpful?” I demanded. Was no one on my side?
Josh shrugged. “You know they are,” he said, but he didn’t look angry. He looked sad. Lost. It scared me. My anger quickly faded.
“Josh, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he said, but his voice was tight. It was one thing for him to be mourning the loss of his baseball career, but this was something else. And even if he had been in a state of mourning, it had gone on for too long. Nothing was changing. Was he really going to stay in Nebraska and play video games for the rest of his life?
Josh had always been strong, upbeat. But this injury had leveled him.
Suddenly guilt overwhelmed me. Was my family right? Was I being selfish by staying in New York? Did Josh need me? Did he need me to come home to Nebraska?
He wasn’t someone who could ask for help. For all his wonderful qualities, admitting he was in trouble, or in pain, had never been one of them. It had taken months before he even told me about his shoulder injury, and I had a feeling that he had been ignoring it for a lot longer than that. Avoiding the reality of his limitations. And now he was dealing with it. Alone.
“What if I came home for Christmas?” I suggested softly.
He gave me a small smile. “I think they’d like that.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Would you be happy to see me?”
“Allie,” he sighed. “You know I’m always happy to see you.” He took a deep breath. “And yeah, I do wish you were around more, but you shouldn’t give up on your career because of family pressure.” He paused. “As long as it makes you happy.”
“It does,” I said, a plan forming in my mind. “You’d love New York, Josh.”
He shrugged. “Went there a few times with the Storm Chasers. Seemed like any other big city to me.”
“You shut your mouth,” I teased. “Traveling somewhere for work isn’t the same as exploring, and you know it.” I bit my lip, wondering if I could convince him to step outside his current comfort zone. “Come visit,” I told him.
“What?”
“Come visit me in New York,” I said again, visualizing my bank account. “I’ll buy you a ticket, you can stay with me as soon as I find a place, the works.” It would eat into my savings, but it would be worth it to see him cheered up.
He stared at me.
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Come on,” I urged, another idea sparking. “What if Emily came with you?”
His eyebrows went up. “You think our sister is going to let her child go to New York City? You have met our family, right? They think all cities are overrun with drugs and pervs.”
“You let me worry about that,” I said, even though I wasn’t 100 percent sure I could pull it off. “Come to New York, Josh.”
There was a little glimmer in his eye. A hint of the old Josh. He was considering it, I could tell. I was cheered by that.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
“The bagels here are amazing,” I told him, and he laughed.
“You’re going to have to use more than bagels to convince me,” he joked, looking more and more like his old self.
“OK, there’s cheesecake, too.”
“Oh, well, if there’s cheesecake,” he sighed. “I’ll think about it.” He waved his hand. “Now, don’t you have a show to run?”
I glanced at the clock. “I do,” I told him.
“Well, then, break your legs,” he said with a smile and hung up.
Shane was in the kitchen when I got out of the shower after my phone call.
“Love your opening-night outfit,” he said, letting out a low whistle. “Very sexy.”
“Yes.” I struck a pose. “Terry cloth is the latest trend in theatre wear.”
He came and put his hands on my hips. “Yeah, but I definitely prefer what’s underneath the terry cloth.”
Those same hands began sliding the towel upwards, exposing my upper thighs. A shiver of pleasure ran through me, but with great reluctance, I stepped back.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have time for that.” I twisted my wet hair into a knot. “I have to be at the theatre in an hour.”
Shane placed a kiss on my exposed neck. “Oh, I can be fast,” he murmured against my skin. “Give me ten minutes.” He kissed my collarbone. “OK, twenty.”
I was so tempted. I knew what he could do with twenty minutes. Twenty minutes I just didn’t have. But before I could say no, he leaned back and kissed me.
“To be continued,” he told me. “I’ll be waiting.”
I nodded, my entire body aching for his touch. And for the first time in my entire career, I couldn’t wait for the curtain to go down.
Chapter 23
SHANE
I was shaving down the top of a bench when I got a phone call from Reagan. Frowning at the screen, I tried to figure out why she would be calling. Were the hinges on the door of the theatre still squeaky? And according to the time, it was only two hours until the show was supposed to start.
“What are you doing tonight?” Reagan asked when I answered.
I glanced around my workshop at all the half-finished chairs and tables that needed to be completed. And then I thought about kissing Allie this morning and how if Reagan needed me at the theatre, I could steal another before coming back to the apartment.
“Not much,” I responded, knowing that it was ridiculous to even consider traveling from Brooklyn to Manhattan on a Saturday night for the chance of a kiss. “Why?”
Twenty minutes later I was on the L train, freshly showered and wearing my nicest jacket with my least-worn jeans. It turned out that Reagan didn’t need me to fix something at the theatre, she was actually calling to offer me a ticket for that night’s performance.
“As a thank you for your help,” she said, but I had a feeling she was a graduate in the Megan Garrett School of Get Too Involved in Other People’s Love Lives.
I tried to be annoyed, but I could only muster up amus
ement. Besides, it had been pretty hot watching Allie run rehearsals. Knowing she was in charge of an entire production was likely to get me very riled up.
Sitting on the subway, sandwiched between two Brooklyn hipsters, I smiled to myself. If someone would have told me that I would be attracted to a woman whose entire existence seemed dependent on a to-do list, I would have called them crazy. Yet here I was, fantasizing about how sexy it was for Allie to be giving orders over a headset for two hours.
I ignored that strange somersault my heart seemed to be doing on a more regular basis. This was still just sex. Casual sex. Fantastic casual sex.
There were tons of people milling outside the theatre when I arrived, everyone talking in excited chatter. Inside, there were photographers and journalists, and I caught a glimpse of Joanna being interviewed by a local paper over in the corner.
“Hey!” Reagan popped up out of nowhere, and I jumped.
“You’re very sneaky,” I noted.
She shook her head. “I just take light steps.”
Grabbing my arm, she pulled me towards the box office. For someone as skinny as she was, she sure was strong.
“I need one of my house seats,” she told the girl in the window, who pulled a ticket out of an envelope and slid it towards Reagan.
She passed it me, a big grin on her face. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Does Allie know I’m here?” I had to know, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.
Reagan blushed. “I didn’t want to make her nervous.”
Nervous? Allie? Dropping her towel in front of strangers not withstanding, I had a hard time imagining Allie nervous, especially here.
“I hope I’m not underdressed,” I told Reagan, shoving my hands in my pockets. There were people in suits and evening gowns milling around.
But Reagan shook her head. “Those are Joanna’s people,” she said before gesturing down at her nice but simple black dress. “I think we’re fine.”
I noticed that Joanna seemed to be doing her best to avoid “her” people, sticking to the reporters and purposefully ignoring the occasional wave from women wearing elbow length gloves and men in bow ties.
“I’ve heard good things about the show,” I said to Reagan.
“Oh, good,” she responded, but she was nervously wringing her hands, her face a little pale.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
She nodded and then immediately shook her head. “I’m terrified,” she confessed.
Then the lights in the lobby began to dim and she let out a squeak.
“The show’s starting soon,” she told me. “We should head in.”
I nodded and followed her, watching again as the lights dimmed and brightened twice more. I cleared my throat.
“Is that on a timer?” I asked, pointing at the ceiling.
Reagan glanced back at me and smiled. “Nope,” she said. “That’s all your girl.”
I didn’t bother to correct that “your girl” statement, because as we entered the theatre, my attention was focused on finding her. I scanned the audience, wondering where she would be, before Reagan pointed to a black box in the corner, one I had barely noticed.
“She’s over there,” Reagan said with a knowing smile on her face.
A smile I hardly registered because I was completely captivated by the sight of Allie—her face the picture of focus and control—illuminated by a small light coming from her lap. She was wearing a headset, and for whatever reason, I found it sexy as hell. Maybe her headset was what my tool belt was to her. What a pair we were.
“Come on.” Reagan tugged my arm, and I followed her, half of my attention still on Allie. I wondered how in the world I was going to concentrate on the show when my mind was suddenly occupied with thoughts of Allie wearing that headset and nothing else.
It was official. I had lost it. And I didn’t even care.
But when we got settled in our seats and the lights went down, I found myself completely captivated by what was happening on the stage. At first, I could feel tension radiating off of Reagan, who was sitting next to me, but it subsided as the audience seemed to relax into the show. Because it was a really, really good show. Completely, utterly bonkers, what with the puppets and all that, but really good, as well.
Afterwards, I was pretty sure that I still knew nothing about theatre, but I knew enough to tell Reagan how good it had been.
“Really?” Her eyes brightened, her hands twisted together.
“Yeah,” I said. “And if I like it, I bet they loved it.” I pointed to a group of people who looked like they knew something about theatre.
All of them were smiling and seemed to be gushing over the performances.
“Five stars.” Joanna appeared over Reagan’s shoulder.
The usually glacial blonde was actually smiling.
“What?” Reagan’s voice came out in a gasp. “Who? What?”
“TimeOut,” Joanna told her, and then directed her attention to me. “Shane, right?”
I nodded, and she gave me a long once-over, like she was undressing me with her eyes. But in a clinical way.
“I guess I can see the appeal,” she said to Reagan, who swatted at her arm.
“Stop messing with him.” Reagan grabbed Joanna’s shoulders. “Did you just say TimeOut New York is going to give us five stars?”
Joanna nodded, and for a moment I thought Reagan was going to pass out.
“That’s good, right?” I was pretty sure it was, but what the hell did I know? Five stars sounded great, unless it was out of ten.
“That’s really, really good.” Reagan had a hand to her forehead. “That’s . . . that’s unbelievable.” She spun around as if to go somewhere and then immediately spun back and gave me a push. “You tell her,” she ordered.
“Tell who what?”
“Allie, of course,” Joanna said coolly, a comical counterpoint to Reagan, who was having a minor meltdown in front of me. A good meltdown, but a meltdown nonetheless. “She’s probably still in the light booth.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. Rolling up my program and sticking it in my back pocket, I headed back into the theatre. It was empty, all the lights up. Across from me, I could see Allie in her booth, her head bowed, the headset still on. She was alone.
Feeling strangely nervous, I rubbed my slightly damp hands on my jeans and walked over. As I got closer, my footsteps echoing in the quiet theatre, Allie glanced up. The range of emotions that flitted across her face were both charming and flattering. First there was surprise, then confusion, then happiness, and then something even more appealing than happiness. Something that made her gaze go hot.
Taking off her headset, she stood and came around the booth.
“Great show,” I told her, my hands itching to touch her. She looked fantastic in her tight black jeans and low-cut shirt. I wanted to run my tongue along the V that revealed a whole host of gorgeous cleavage.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” she told me.
“Not yet.” I stepped forward and slid my hand to the back of her head. “That’s later,” I murmured into her ear. “And you first. Always you first.”
She blushed as she realized the double entendre of her words.
Unable to help myself, I lowered my mouth to hers. She kissed me back without hesitation, her hands flat on my chest. God, I couldn’t get enough of her. Caressing her hips, I marveled at how perfectly her jeans molded to her curves, how wonderfully they displayed her gorgeous body.
I had meant the kiss to be brief, but I found that I didn’t want it to end. Instead of pulling away, I slanted my mouth over hers and thrust my tongue inside. She matched my urgency, her fingers curling into fists, clutching my shirt tighter, pulling me against her. With one hand cupping her head, my other hand was free to explore her hips, her waist and her ass. Reaching down, I gave her softness a squeeze and hauled her up against my body, drawing up even closer. No doubt she was now aware of exactly how glad I
was to see her.
At the intimate contact, Allie let out a gasp, her lips torn from mine. I took the opportunity to place kisses along her neck while her hands ran through my hair, her hips arching as I pressed against her. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.
Someone cleared their throat behind us, and Allie immediately broke away from me. Her hands went up to fix her hair, but there was no hiding the hazy, lusty look in her eyes or her red, swollen lips. Turning around, I found Reagan and Joanna standing in the now less empty light booth staring at us.
Reagan had a huge, giddy smile on her face, and Joanna had her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised. Glancing back at Allie, I found that she was blushing furiously.
“I’m guessing you told her,” Joanna commented to me, her tone dry.
“Told me what?” Allie asked.
Joanna shook her head. “He was supposed to tell you the good news.” She stepped forward and gave me another once-over.
One that seemed to pause for a brief second at my crotch. Think of wood rot, I told myself. Termites. Something, anything that wasn’t sexy.
“Good news?” Allie glanced over at me for a moment before looking back at Joanna.
“Five stars,” Reagan interrupted giddily. “We got five stars from TimeOut.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. Really?”
Reagan nodded, a huge smile on her face.
“That’s incredible.” Allie ran over and gave Reagan a huge hug. “Congratulations.”
She pulled back and reached out for Joanna, who was quickly hauled into the embrace. The three of them stood there hugging, Reagan still practically vibrating with joy, Joanna doing her best imitation of a hug, and Allie, who was holding them all together.
“We did it,” said Reagan.
I saw the surprise on Allie’s face.
“Yeah,” she said, her eyes searching and finding mine. “I guess we did.”
Chapter 24
ALLIE