Showmance

by L.H. Cosway

  In the bathroom I splashed some water over my face, holding my wet hand to my neck for a moment and closing my eyes, trying to find some calm. It was no use. My heart still beat double time and my gut was all twisted up.

  When I stepped back out into the hallway, I came face to face with Damon. He stopped mid-stride, standing just a couple feet away from me. I couldn’t tell if he’d come in search of me or if he just needed a breather, the same as I had.

  “Are you actually going to have dinner with Alicia?” I whispered. It was the first thing that popped into my head, hurt clutching at my chest at the very idea.

  “What were you talking to Blake about?” he replied roughly, not answering my question.

  I swallowed and rubbed at my collarbone, which was hurting for some strange reason. A physical manifestation of my emotional pain, perhaps. “I was telling him that when he came into the storage room earlier, the only reason I let him touch me was because I thought he was you. Damon, I would never, ever do anything to hurt you, and I would never be involved with two men at the same time. You have to believe me.”

  His posture remained rigid, his demeanour distant. “Are we involved, Rose?”

  “Emotionally, yes,” I said, searching his gaze. “You have to feel it, too. When we’re together, the way we talk, the way you look at me, it’s more than just friendship.”

  “I thought friendship was all you wanted. I thought you’d sworn off actors.”

  “I had, but then you came along….”

  Damon rubbed at his jaw in agitation. “When I saw him touching you, I didn’t like how it made me feel, Rose. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to bash his fucking head in.”

  I gasped at his confession and stepped closer, needing to be nearer to him. “But now you know it was a mistake. None of it meant anything.”

  His eyes flickered between mine, and he exhaled heavily. “You have no idea the kind of betrayal I’ve suffered in my life,” he said, so, so quiet. “For a long time I thought people only wanted me for what they could gain from it. This friendship I have with you is a big deal. I haven’t let someone into my life like I have you in years.”

  His words made me catch my breath, and I closed the distance between us, placing my hand gently on his arm. “I understand, and I value your friendship more highly than anything else in my life right now.”

  He cast me a pained look. “It hasn’t been very long since you were with Blake. I need to know I’m not just a rebound.”

  “You’re not, I promise you, you’re not,” I hurried to tell him.

  “I can tell you believe that, but maybe you don’t really understand what’s going on in your head. I think you need more time to resolve what you felt for him before moving on to anything else,” he said.

  “Damon — ” I interrupted, but he cut me off.

  “I know I’m being hypocritical, because you told me from the start you weren’t ready for a new relationship, but I pushed for us to get close anyway. This is more my fault than yours. I should have respected that you weren’t ready. I should have listened, but you’re just so beautiful to me, not just physically but spiritually, and I couldn’t help….”

  I frowned at him now, a ball of emotion clogging my throat. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we need some distance for a while. You need to find a balance in your heart away from Blake, because I want all of you, Rose, not a quarter or a third or a fifth. I want everything. And right now you’re not in a place to give me that. Even if you think you are, I can see that you aren’t. What I feel for you means I’m willing to go through the pain of staying away from you until you’re ready for me.”

  His gaze seared into mine as his meaning sank in. He wanted me, but not right now, not until I was ready for him. But I felt ready. I felt like I was going to explode, I was so ready. The flurry and quantity of his words told me this was serious. Damon didn’t speak openly very often, nor with such passion. This meant that when he did speak, you listened. You savoured every syllable because you knew he guarded them closely, only doling them out when they truly meant something.

  I had to respect his wishes. He deserved that much. To this end I gave him a firm nod and whispered a single word, “Okay.”

  We shared one more meaningful glance before returning to rehearsals in silence.

  Fifteen.

  *Damon*

  Four weeks later.

  I was beginning to wonder if willpower was my greatest strength. It was a silent strength, one that didn’t make its presence known physically, but it was a strength nonetheless. The willpower I expended in staying away from Rose was monumental. Every day at rehearsals I had to resist the cord that pulled between us, begging me to get close.

  When she entered a room, my eyes were drawn to her against their will. I was entranced by such little, unimportant things, like how she stretched her arms up and fixed her hair into a knot, or how she rubbed at her lower lip when she was thinking about something intently, or how she massaged the outside of her thigh when she had a stitch.

  And honestly, I’d thought I was being such a mature, thoughtful grown-up when I’d suggested she take some time to find her heart again. But now, well, I was beginning to regret being mature. In fact, fuck maturity. Why couldn’t I just be selfish and greedy and take her? Each day the silence between us felt like a weight on my shoulders, and though we sometimes spoke, it was only ever about the show or some bland, friendly greeting. I was beginning to worry that she was having second thoughts, that her feelings for me had lessened with time.

  And then there was Blake. There were very few people in the world I truly wanted to hurt, and Blake Winters was one of them. The way I’d felt that day when I saw him with his hands on Rose was maddening. I could’ve beaten him to a pulp if I didn’t have so much of my trusty willpower at hand.

  The scary part was, I didn’t hate him because he was a bad person. I hated him because I saw how he looked at Rose and I knew he had real feelings for her, feelings that might’ve even rivalled my own. He wanted her, and I wanted to crush him for it.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” came a sweet feminine voice, and I turned to find Alicia at my side.

  Much to my dismay, I had gone for dinner with her that night. Mostly because I was so messed up over Rose that I’d completely forgotten about it until she’d arrived on my doorstop, all gussied up in a tight red dress. I tried to feign tiredness, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. At dinner I decided to find some balls and tell her upfront that I had feelings for Rose and I wasn’t interested in a relationship with her. She’d seemed a small bit hurt at first, but she’d quickly gotten over her disappointment. In truth, her disappointment bewildered me slightly. I was an antisocial, grumpy old hermit at the best of times. Why someone as pretty and glamourous as Alicia Davidson would be interested in me was a puzzle I wasn’t equipped to solve.

  Over our meal I’d started to tell her about Rose, unable to stop once I started. She seemed to empathise, and told me a few tales about her own love life. Over the weeks she’d become something of an unexpected confidante, and I was more than a little surprised by the easy, platonic friendship we’d struck up.

  “Just feeling a little rough today,” I finally answered, and she cast me a sympathetic expression, her eyes wandering across the studio to where Rose was sitting on the floor stretching. Blake stood over her, saying something I couldn’t hear.

  Prick.

  Alicia patted me on the shoulder, and Rose glanced up just in time to see it.

  “It’ll get better. Don’t you worry, hon,” said Alicia. “Are you excited to move into the theatre next week?”

  I shrugged. Perhaps I would be excited if I wasn’t so mixed up about Rose. Studio rehearsals were coming to an end, and next week we’d begin dress rehearsals at the theatre. I tried to muster some enthusiasm, but all I could see was Blake standing over Rose, staring at her with the need to possess in his eyes.

  “Well, anyway, did y
ou hear about this tradition Jacob has with his casts?” Alicia went on, interrupting my violent thoughts about the man standing in front of the woman I wanted.

  I furrowed my brow. “Tradition?”

  Alicia tilted her head, grabbing her foot and bending her leg to stretch her thigh muscles. “On the weekend after studio rehearsals finish up, he organises to take everybody for a day of group bonding. I hear that this time around he’s chosen paintballing.”

  “It’s true,” said Iggy, unceremoniously joining our conversation as he came into the room, his hair bizarrely up in pigtails. Nobody batted an eyelash. “This weekend we’re all going to spend two hours on a bus so that we can run around the woods shooting bullets of paint at one another. I for one am truly looking forward to the bruises,” he deadpanned, sounding none too excited about the activity.

  “I’ve never been paintballing before,” I said.

  “In that case you’re lucky,” said Iggy with a wry expression before striding over to speak with a few other cast members.

  “Don’t listen to him. It’s tonnes of fun,” said Alicia. “I used to go with my brothers all the time when we were kids.”

  “You have brothers?” I asked, wondering how this never came up before.

  “Yep. Five of them, and I was the only girl.” She grimaced. “My parents were so surprised I turned out to be such a girly-girl and not a tomboy. I like to think there are advantages to being able to fight off a suplex while wearing heels and a cocktail dress. My brothers were crazy about wrestling.”

  “Sounds impressive,” I admitted.

  She flicked her hair over her shoulder and grinned. “It is.”

  Again I looked across the room to Rose to find her watching me. I swallowed, unable to look away. Her loose top was dipping down at the front, revealing the seductive curve of her chest. I remembered walking in on her during Julian’s party, her smooth, perfect skin bared to me. Fuck, I’d been wanking myself blind to the memory of that night for weeks now. My gaze trailed over her body before returning to her face. She blushed and looked away, continuing with her stretches.

  It had been four weeks since our conversation, four weeks since I’d spent any real time with her outside of work. Perhaps it was time to get a little closer.

  ***

  “Christ, it’s early,” Eddie complained as he climbed aboard the bus parked outside Iggy’s studio. I didn’t blame him for being grumpy; the man was pushing sixty. I’d just turned twenty-six a couple months ago, and even I felt exhausted with the early start. Jacob had hired a coach to take us to the paintballing centre, the downside being that it was a two-hour journey and we’d been instructed to arrive at the studio at six-forty-five a.m.

  I stood outside finishing my coffee as various members of the cast and crew disappeared inside the coach. Though really I had an ulterior motive. I was waiting for Rose to arrive so I could ask her to sit with me, maybe spend the journey talking so I could see how she was feeling about us these days.

  Unfortunately, my plan was shot to shit when Alicia turned up wearing a light blue velour tracksuit with the words “girl boss” written across the backside. I quirked a brow. Not that I was particularly interested in that part of her anatomy, but when somebody has something written on their arse, you look.

  “Hey, Damon, come sit next to me,” she said, linking her arm through mine and leading me forward.

  “Actually, I — ”

  “Yes, yes, get on the bus,” came Jacob’s shrill voice, interrupting me. “We need to leave at seven sharp, and we’re still several people short.”

  One of those people was Rose. I really hoped she was going to show up. Before I knew it, I was sitting next to Alicia in the second row, since all the other seats were already taken. It was a little like being at school again, everybody wanting to sit at the back of the bus so they could cause trouble where the teachers couldn’t see.

  A couple minutes later, Jacob was making noises about leaving. Rose was the only person who hadn’t yet shown. I tried not to feel too disappointed.

  “She might not be feeling well,” Iggy suggested when Jacob inquired after her. “I’ll give her a call and see what’s going on.”

  Just before he pulled out his phone, there was a knock on the front window. The driver opened the door and Rose climbed aboard, her face flushed.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said with an apologetic expression. “My alarm clock is on the fritz and I overslept.”

  “Well you’re here now. That’s all that matters,” said Jacob, waving her forward.

  The last seat left was in front of me and Alicia, right next to Blake. Of course it fucking was. I watched as Rose sat down and uttered a quiet good morning to him. She turned her head a little to cast a hesitant smile at me and Alicia.

  “Morning,” she said.

  “Hey, Rose,” Alicia replied, a little too sweetly. I didn’t appreciate the veiled hostility in her tone and knew she considered Rose to be a cock tease. She just didn’t understand the connection we shared.

  “Morning,” I said, leaning forward with concern when I saw her rubbing her shoulder. She’d pulled a muscle the other day during practice. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “A little achy, but I’ll survive.”

  “Are you sure?” Blake butted in. “Can I give you a massage or anything?” His voice was gentle, caring. Those familiar violent feelings I was having all too often these days returned.

  “Oh, um.” Rose’s eyes flared like she didn’t know how to respond.

  “Here,” said Blake, putting his hand on her arm. “Turn around.”

  Don’t fucking touch her, my inner voice warned angrily. Would violently assaulting my costar get me sacked from the production? Probably. When he started massaging her over the fabric of her shirt, I gritted my teeth so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if I chipped a tooth.

  “I once slipped a disc when I was rehearsing for Phantom of the Opera,” Blake went on. “It was the worst pain of my life.”

  Rose hummed a response, her posture loosening as he rubbed between her shoulder blades. I wanted to be the one touching her, wanted it so badly my hands were fisted in my lap. Soft, cool fingers met mine, and I glanced to the side. Alicia flared her eyes at me. Relax, she mouthed, clearly noticing my tension.

  I took a few deep breaths and stared out the window for a minute or two. If I kept looking at Blake giving Rose a massage, I was liable to lose my shit.

  My attention went to Jacob, who rose from his seat at the front of the bus, bracing himself in the aisle to face everyone.

  “How about a sing-along?” he suggested, and I tried not to look at the bright orange shirt he wore because it was already giving me a headache. A few people groaned, and Iggy shouted from several rows behind me.

  “Give us a chance to wake up first. My body still thinks it should be asleep and dreaming of Ben Affleck in a mankini.”

  Lots of people laughed while Jacob shot him a pouty look. “Well, I apologise for ruining such enticing dreams, but I do think a little sing-song will help wake us all up. Who’s in the mood for some West Side Story? I’ll be Tony.”

  “Don’t you mean Maria?” Iggy shot back. I stifled a chuckle.

  “Oh, hush you! I can already tell you were the troublemaker at school, Iggy Thomas,” said Jacob, a touch of flirtation in his voice.

  “Please don’t inflict us with your singing,” Maura, the choral director, cut in, her jibe good-natured.

  “I’ll have you know I’ve been complimented on my voice by some of the greatest singers of stage and screen,” Jacob replied haughtily, trying to keep from smiling. He obviously knew he couldn’t sing, but he didn’t seem to care. This was proven when a second later he burst into the campest off-key rendition of “Maria” I’d ever heard. Even with the tense mood I was in, I found myself laughing, and soon enough everyone was joining in with him.

  Several songs later, the mood on the bus had lightened significantly, and we were on the motorway,
heading out of the city. I stared at Rose through the gap in our seats. She looked tired, and I could tell from the set of her mouth that she was still in pain, even if she claimed to be fine.

  God, she was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was tied up, several curly strands hanging down over her pale, elegant neck. I wanted to run my fingers through them, kiss the patch of skin between her neck and her shoulder.

  I saw Blake nudge her as he leaned in to speak, “Do you remember the time we went for drinks after studio practice ended for Guys and Dolls?”

  She stiffened and continued looking out the window. “Uh-huh.”

  “You wore that black French Connection dress, the one with the low neckline. I couldn’t stop looking at you that night, and you knew it.”

  Rose furrowed her brow as she glanced at him a second time. “Why are you bringing that up?”

  He’s bringing it up because he knows I’m fucking listening.

  There was a part of me that hated the history they shared, and I also hated that once upon a time, Rose had loved this prick. We were only half an hour into our journey, but somehow I knew the next ninety minutes were going to be torture.

  “I was just wondering if you think about that night like I do,” Blake said.

  Now she shifted in her seat to face him properly. “I dunno, were you high that night?”

  Her words surprised me, and I could tell Alicia, who was listening, too, was also surprised.

  Blake cleared his throat. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering. You said you were high the entire time we were together. I know we hadn’t gotten together properly then, but I’m guessing you were still using at the time.”

  “Rosie,” said Blake with a wince. He appeared genuinely hurt by her words. And what the hell? He’d been a junkie when they were together?

  She swallowed and fidgeted with her hands, casting sad eyes in his direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she whispered, looking around to see if anyone was listening. She didn’t realise she had a rapt audience of two sitting directly behind her. I glanced at Alicia, and she cast me a raised eyebrow.