for all the intramural teams. The winners get an intramural T-shirt. It is one of the things on my bucket list. I’ve played sports four years here and never won the grande prix of shirts. Tomorrow’s the day.”
He maneuvered me toward the exit of La Playa. This was only my third motorcycle ride, but I already felt like an expert. I swung my leg over the side and clipped my helmet on, pulling snugly on the chin strap.
The bike roared into the gravel drive. Nina had left the porch light on for me. It was unlikely Candace was home.
“Thanks for the rock climbing and the margaritas, Comm partner.” I tried to attach the helmet to the seat, but I kept missing.
“Um. London, are you drunk?”
“Drunk? Me?” Why couldn’t I put the helmet on the seat? I missed the hook again.
Beau cut the engine on the bike and dismounted, taking the helmet from my hand and magically hooking it to the backseat.
“Wait, how did you do that?” I was sure the bottom of the helmet was solid and could no longer attach to the seat.
“Let’s get you inside, lightweight.”
Ha. Ha. He called me a lightweight. I’d like to see him try to bench press me. Wait, do I want him to bench press me?
While I was visualizing Beau in the gym on a flat bench with me twisted around a weight bar, he reached for me and scooped me into those ridiculously sculpted arms. This was the second time tonight he had wrapped me in those limbs of steel.
I was sure the Dirty Dancing soundtrack was playing when he nudged open the front door and carried me into the house. He surveyed the room before settling on the couch. He situated me on the cushions and tugged on the heels of my boots. Displaced from my feet, he set them on the floor.
“You still singing?”
Ok, maybe it wasn’t a soundtrack. It was me.
“Oh, Ugly Quilt.” I reached out for the comfy blanket.
He chuckled. “Ugly Quilt, huh?” He pulled it from the couch and tucked it around my body.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin and turned toward the wall. The room seemed to spin a little less if I stayed cocooned on my side.
“Good night, movie star.”
I couldn’t tell in my tequila haze what happened next, but it felt like he kissed the top of my head before closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER SIX
Theater groups were anything but quiet, and with my pounding hangover headache from last night’s margarita mishap, it wasn’t the kind of loud I wanted. I sipped on some water, hoping the ibuprofen I had taken would kick in soon.
Derek walked over to where I was sitting on the couch and shoved a few pages in my hand.
“What’s this?”
“I rewrote the third act last night. You have new lines. I thought we could work through some of it today.”
“Derek, we open next Saturday. That’s only one week from today. You think we can do this?”
“There isn’t anyone I trust more to get it done. I wrote it just for you.” The scruffy playwright reached down and tried to hug me from the side.
Nina appeared in the doorway. I pushed out of Derek’s half-hug.
“Hi. Wanna help me with some new lines?” I held up the fresh pages of the script.
Nina plopped down next to me. “Sure. There are new lines?” She had an accusatory stare pointed at Derek.
I was going to coral him into the conversation, but he retreated to the opposite side of the basement where Doug started asking him lighting questions. I flinched and gripped my head as the lights started flickering all around us. I made a mental note to consume much less tequila.
“That was awkward. What’s going on with you two?” I didn’t know how much Nina would tell me with so many actor ears in the vicinity. Plus, I didn’t want to press her, considering all of the boy drama we were handling with Candace. I wanted to be her supportive friend, not the pushy one.
“Nothing. Not a thing. That’s the
He maneuvered me toward the exit of La Playa. This was only my third motorcycle ride, but I already felt like an expert. I swung my leg over the side and clipped my helmet on, pulling snugly on the chin strap.
The bike roared into the gravel drive. Nina had left the porch light on for me. It was unlikely Candace was home.
“Thanks for the rock climbing and the margaritas, Comm partner.” I tried to attach the helmet to the seat, but I kept missing.
“Um. London, are you drunk?”
“Drunk? Me?” Why couldn’t I put the helmet on the seat? I missed the hook again.
Beau cut the engine on the bike and dismounted, taking the helmet from my hand and magically hooking it to the backseat.
“Wait, how did you do that?” I was sure the bottom of the helmet was solid and could no longer attach to the seat.
“Let’s get you inside, lightweight.”
Ha. Ha. He called me a lightweight. I’d like to see him try to bench press me. Wait, do I want him to bench press me?
While I was visualizing Beau in the gym on a flat bench with me twisted around a weight bar, he reached for me and scooped me into those ridiculously sculpted arms. This was the second time tonight he had wrapped me in those limbs of steel.
I was sure the Dirty Dancing soundtrack was playing when he nudged open the front door and carried me into the house. He surveyed the room before settling on the couch. He situated me on the cushions and tugged on the heels of my boots. Displaced from my feet, he set them on the floor.
“You still singing?”
Ok, maybe it wasn’t a soundtrack. It was me.
“Oh, Ugly Quilt.” I reached out for the comfy blanket.
He chuckled. “Ugly Quilt, huh?” He pulled it from the couch and tucked it around my body.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin and turned toward the wall. The room seemed to spin a little less if I stayed cocooned on my side.
“Good night, movie star.”
I couldn’t tell in my tequila haze what happened next, but it felt like he kissed the top of my head before closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER SIX
Theater groups were anything but quiet, and with my pounding hangover headache from last night’s margarita mishap, it wasn’t the kind of loud I wanted. I sipped on some water, hoping the ibuprofen I had taken would kick in soon.
Derek walked over to where I was sitting on the couch and shoved a few pages in my hand.
“What’s this?”
“I rewrote the third act last night. You have new lines. I thought we could work through some of it today.”
“Derek, we open next Saturday. That’s only one week from today. You think we can do this?”
“There isn’t anyone I trust more to get it done. I wrote it just for you.” The scruffy playwright reached down and tried to hug me from the side.
Nina appeared in the doorway. I pushed out of Derek’s half-hug.
“Hi. Wanna help me with some new lines?” I held up the fresh pages of the script.
Nina plopped down next to me. “Sure. There are new lines?” She had an accusatory stare pointed at Derek.
I was going to coral him into the conversation, but he retreated to the opposite side of the basement where Doug started asking him lighting questions. I flinched and gripped my head as the lights started flickering all around us. I made a mental note to consume much less tequila.
“That was awkward. What’s going on with you two?” I didn’t know how much Nina would tell me with so many actor ears in the vicinity. Plus, I didn’t want to press her, considering all of the boy drama we were handling with Candace. I wanted to be her supportive friend, not the pushy one.
“Nothing. Not a thing. That’s the
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