I turned my gaze back to Chris and smiled warmly, leaning forward and meeting him for another small kiss.
I didn’t miss the tightening of Evan’s fist out of the corner of my eye as I pulled away.
Chapter Eighteen
“That was intense!” Lizzy said breathlessly, leaning up against the mirrored wall.
“But fun,” I said with a smile, trying to catch my own breath.
We’d gone to our first dance class together at a studio not far from the apartment. It had been nonstop action for the past hour. I’d loved every minute of it. The feeling of being back to what I did best was amazing.
As it turned out, Evan had been serious about coming to classes with us. He couldn’t make the dance classes because of work, but he’d told us both he’d do his best to see if he could make it to the acting classes on the weekends. I felt like he was coming just to spite me.
Lizzy had only signed up for the weekday dance lessons with me. She’d dropped several hints that if Evan were going to show up to act she wanted to be there to see it, though.
She was about to get lucky. Me, on the other hand? I was about to do something I knew I’d regret.
“Hey,” I said after taking a long drink of water. “Do you know if Evan has been working on his play at all?”
“I’m not sure. He hasn’t said anything to me about it.”
“We should ask him the next time he comes over.”
I slid my shoes off and placed them in the duffle bag at my feet, Lizzy doing the same beside me. All around us, the other members of the class packed up as well, saying their goodbyes until next week.
As we were leaving the building, Lizzy’s phone rang out from the front pocket of her orange jacket. She fumbled with her light gloves for a moment as she pulled it out to check it.
“Looks like we get to pester Evan about following his dream tonight after he gets off,” she said with a smile.
“As long as it’s good pestering,” I sighed. “I’m so sorry for how Chris acted at dinner.”
It was probably the millionth time I’d apologized for his unsupportive behavior. I’d never realized how . . . realistic he was before. It was like he had no room for dreaming, unless it involved becoming something with a six figure salary. I hadn’t really seen that side of him, which had me both worried and calm about the future of our relationship. Hopefully, it was just a one-time thing, and I wouldn’t have to bother with it anymore.
“There’s a lot of people out there that think the same as he does,” Lizzy said with a shrug, apparently knowing that she didn’t need to tell me it was fine one more time.
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. How else do you end up with people who hate the job that they spent years and thousands of dollars towards? They’re in it for the money. What they don’t realize is that money won’t make them happy. Just think—would you rather have all the money you could ever want and never perform again, or be on stage every night, singing your heart out?”
“On stage,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t be happy if I couldn’t do what I loved.”
“Exactly! People think that they’ll just do whatever makes the most dough for them, and then they’ll be happy. They build mansions and buy fancy cars and pretend like they didn’t need to be a teacher, or whatever other low paying job they always dreamed of. The sad part is when they actually trick themselves into thinking nothing is wrong. They stop listening to their heart and it ends up killing everything inside them.”
“I understand completely,” I said as we entered the station and waited for our train to arrive. “They do it to themselves because of their own fears. Sometimes other people do it to them, which I think is worse. My parents were always so supportive of what I wanted to do, even if they thought it was a long shot. They never once told me that I couldn’t do something. I was always pushed to do my best.”
Our subway train arrived and we joined the crush of people boarding, taking seats next to the door.
“My mom is a lot like that,” Lizzy said with a smile. “She always tells me that I have to run any new recipes by her before I let anyone else try them.”
She laughed, shaking her head and displaying one of the biggest smiles I’d ever seen her wear.
“I’ve never asked you about your parents,” I said, suddenly realizing how true the statement was.
“There’s not a whole lot to share,” she replied with a shrug. “My dad left when Mom was pregnant with me. Apparently, he was a real tool—to paraphrase the things she has to say about him.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry,” I cringed. “I had no idea.”
“It’s fine,” she chuckled. “Mom was a great parent. She worked two full time jobs and a part time gig on the side while we were growing up, just so we could afford the things we needed. Eventually she met Chuck—that’s her boyfriend—and fell in love. She finally got brave enough to let him move in when Evan started high school.”
“Are they still together?”
“They are. He loves her very much, but he’s too chicken to ask her to marry him. It’s been over ten years and they still blush when they see each other.”
“How cute! I’m assuming that you and Evan get along with him very well then?”
“I always did,” she said with a laugh. “Evan had a hard time at first, though. He’d been the man of the house for so long. But, I think after the first two years, he treated Chuck like he was our own dad.”
“Do you go visit often?” I asked with a smile.
“They moved upstate after I moved out, so not a whole lot. I feel guilty about it, but I know they understand. I make it home for the majority of the holidays, though. Evan comes with me when he can, but sometimes the show keeps him tied up.”
By that point, our stop had arrived and we’d made it back to the street, the apartment complex just ahead.
“I miss my parents,” I sighed. “I’d planned on going back and visiting them as often as possible, but that’s starting to look like never. It will be a miracle if I make it home for Christmas without their help.”
“You should video call them, again,” Lizzy giggled. “I enjoyed getting to meet them last time.”
“They liked you a lot,” I said, smiling warmly.
We climbed the steps to our building, making the stair climb to our floor in no time at all. Before I knew it, we were flopped down on our beds, still discussing our parents.
There was a knock at the door as Evan let himself in, dropping his keys, bag, and motorcycle helmet by the entryway.
“Sisters,” he said with a nod, heading straight to our refrigerator.
Surprise shot through me. Where was my glare? The over the top feeling of anger?
“There’s leftover spaghetti in the bowl on the top shelf,” Lizzy said, not bothering to get up and greet him.
“Great!” he said enthusiastically. “I’m starved. I didn’t grab anything to eat before the show like normal.”
“That’s because you’re stupid,” Lizzy said with a wicked grin.
“Ha ha, very funny,” he said snidely, pulling the container out and scooping some noodles up with his fingers.
“Gross!” I laughed. “There’s forks in the drawer right next to you.”
He turned and pulled one out, holding it up for me to see.
“Better?”
“Absolutely.”
He made a show of putting the utensil in the dish and licking his fingers clean, winking at me, while Lizzy made disgusted sounds.
Was this really happening? Had I been forgiven for picking Chris over him?
“How was class,” he asked after taking a seat at the table.
“Good,” I said warmly, happy to see him enjoying the leftovers so much.
“Fun,” Lizzy added.
“Awesome.”
He continued to shovel the food into his mouth as if he were starving. The noodles would hit his chin and slide up into his mouth, leaving sauce trails in the
ir wake.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I burst into laughter and rose from the bed to grab a napkin for him.
“Thanks,” he said, one of his perfect smiles cutting through me as I handed it to him.
“No problem. Hey, have you started on your play at all yet?”
I waited for him to swallow, grinning at the surprised look on his face.
“I did a little, actually. Why?”
“I wanted to invite you to something,” I said, excitement flooding me.
“My acting teacher said that if we knew any playwrights who wanted to hear their work acted out to make sure it was flowing well to invite them to next week’s class. He’ll split us into groups and let us all work together. That way we’re getting to experience fresh stuff on the spot and you get to make sure you’ve written what you want.”
“That sounds like it could be cool,” he said, clearing his throat nervously. “I don’t know if what I have is good enough for something like that, though.”
“Sure it is,” I encouraged.
“It’s just a first draft. I don’t even have a name for it, yet. There’s only one, two person scene done and it’s in the middle of the show.”
“That sounds like a whole lot of excuses,” I said, folding my arms and giving him my best serious face.
“It is,” he laughed. “I’m not sure, Mara. I’m not good at putting myself out there when it comes to that.”
“So why don’t you bring what you have over here tomorrow, and I’ll read it with you? I mean, I’m sure that it’s good enough for an acting class to read through. It won’t even be the whole class, but whatever. If it makes you feel better, I’m more than happy to see what you have first.”
“I could maybe do that,” he said, a pondering look on his face as he surveyed me.
“Great! Get ready for me to sing your praises,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder as I stood and left the table.
“If you say so,” he chuckled.
My hand tingled where I’d touched him and with a start I suddenly realized I’d invited him over. I’d been so happy to not be looked at like a traitor, I’d fallen right back into the trap of his smile.
“You wouldn’t even tell me what your idea was when I asked you about it all that time ago,” Lizzy pouted, still lying on the bed.
“Who said I was going to tell Mara?” he joked.
“You can come over tomorrow afternoon if you’d like,” I butted in, being brave. Or stupid. Most likely stupid. “I’m off.”
“No fair!” Lizzy wailed. “I have to work! You can’t read it without me!”
“That sounds great,” Evan said, a humorous twinkle in his eye. “Then you can tease Liz about knowing something she doesn’t.”
“You’re so mean,” she said, rolling her eyes and getting up, heading to the bathroom.
“I’ll tell you what it’s about,” I laughed as she shut the door.
“You ruin all my fun,” Evan said, the most hilarious pout face I’d ever seen stretched across his features.
“I’m excited to see what you have,” I said, smiling at him.
“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint,” he laughed.
“How could you disappoint me by doing something you’ve always wanted?”
How did that whole conversation sound so dirty in my head?
His smile grew as he continued to look at me, silent. As always, he looked stunning in his blacked out work clothes.
I envied his opportunities to work where I wanted. It seemed pure luck that’d I’d managed to meet and befriend him. Had he even realized what he’d done for me and my dreams in the short time we’d known each other?
It wasn’t just work stuff, though. He seemed to connect with me on levels that other people didn’t. Every time we were together, I didn’t feel the need to put on a show. He made me feel like I could be myself, no exceptions.
The only problem was those pesky thoughts that would pop into my head about how attractive he was. Or how much I would like to be kissing him.
It wouldn’t hurt to touch just one muscle . . . would it? Just one more time. It wouldn’t be sexual at all—just his arm, or that peck that looks like it could stop a bullet. It’s not like Chris would need to know. I wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.
I stopped my train of thought immediately, recognizing the signs of trouble that it was displaying.
Evan was still watching me, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts as well. The smile that tugged at his lips definitely held back unspoken secrets. Things that I was surprised to realize I wanted to know.
Images from the last time we were alone flooded back into my mind, the sound of his voice saying my name echoing in my ears.
Mara.
“What are you thinking about?” Evan asked, eyes piercing in my own.
“Nothing really,” I lied, staying still as he stood up.
“You’re not telling the truth,” he said softly, moving towards me until there was only an inch of space between us.
“How do you know,” I said breathlessly.
He reached a hand up and pulled a strand of hair from my face, letting his fingers trail through the rest of my tresses.
“Mara,” he said uncertainly.
My heart jumped, hearing an underlying tone from the day he’d told me he liked me voice.
Is he leaning in? I’m imagining it. What if I’m not? Oh, I don’t care anymore.
His fingers brushed the tips of my hair, again, and my breath caught, waiting to see what would happen.
My eyes fluttered closed as his breath washed over my face.
The toilet flushed and we jumped apart as the door opened and Lizzy came back into the room.
“Okay, what did I miss?” she asked, not seeing whatever had almost just happened between Evan and I.
“I was telling Mara about the plot of my play,” he said smoothly, taking his seat once again.
“Ugh. Mara, tell me all about it later, okay? He can be such a pain!”
“Okay,” I said quietly, trying to slow my pounding heart.
Chapter Nineteen
I paused in doing my makeup, looking into my eyes in the mirror.
This can not happen.
Lizzy had left for work just as I was getting in the shower. She’d wished me luck with the reading I was doing with Evan. There was also some begging to record any acting that he might do.
I almost cheated on Chris. I hardly even had to think about it, that’s how swept away I got. That will not happen again today.
I silently coached myself through my thoughts a few times, firm conviction creating a slight frown where a smile usually sat.
Finally, I picked up my mascara brush and went back to work, having convinced myself that I could handle being alone with Evan, again. There was a tiny voice in the back of my mind that whispered something was wrong in my relationship if I could so easily want to be with another man.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I mumbled to myself, throwing my cosmetics back in their bag and putting it under the sink.
We don’t see each other at all, I thought to myself. All I need to do is go spend some time with him and this thing with Evan will fade away. Just like it was starting to before, when Evan was ignoring me.
I worried I was lying to myself.
There was a knock at the door and I surveyed myself in the mirror, checking to make sure my red, button up shirt hadn’t slid up my back. Once I was satisfied that the hem was lying on my blue jeans, I left the bathroom and walked through the apartment to the front door.
“Hey, Evan,” I said as I opened the door, putting on my best smile, so he wouldn’t know how put off I was.
“Hey,” he said, sliding past me. “Thanks for offering to read what I have.”
“It’s no problem,” I said, shutting the door and following him to the table.
He sat down on one side, so I took a seat on the other, wanting to not sit close to him and make him think what
almost happened was okay.
We sat and smiled at each other for a minute, a small awkward air growing between us.
“So . . . where do we start?” he asked.
“Why don’t you tell me about your plot,” I said, jumping right into the work of it.
“Okay. It’s, uh, a love story. There’s this girl who moves to France from America. She’s studying abroad, you know? And while she’s there, she meets a guy and they fall in love. But for whatever reason, they can’t be together, or something. I haven’t quite worked out all the quirks of it yet.”
“Because you want it to be different from what was written before?”
“Yeah.”
“So you have just the one scene ready, right?”
“Just the first draft,” he said, pulling a laptop from his backpack. “It needs to be edited and fixed up right, but the bare bones are there.”
“May I?” I asked, reaching for the now open notebook.
“Sure, let me get it opened up real quick.”
He clicked the mouse a few times after typing in a password and then slid it across the table to me, a nervous look in his eye.
“I’ll be honest with you,” I said, suddenly realizing what he needed to hear. “I won’t tell you it’s good, if it’s not.”
“Good,” he laughed shortly. “I need that.”
I smiled at him before turning to the screen, ready to see what he had. The scene was noted to be from the second act of the show, most likely one of the ending scenes. It depicted the main characters, finally declaring their love for each other and getting their happy ending. I read through it twice, a happy smile growing on my face the longer I looked it over.
“Okay,” I said after about ten minutes.
Evan had gotten up, while I was reading, helping himself to more of our leftover food in the fridge.
“How bad is it?” he asked, taking his seat again.
“Actually, I thought it was pretty good. You’re right about it needing to be looked over by an editor. I don’t know anything about that, so I totally agree,” I laughed. “The story sounds good, though. Is this the last scene of the whole show?”
“I think there might be one more after it, just showing a little of what happened to them after everything.”
Taking Chances: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (Dreams) Page 15
