Leaning away from Ryan’s chest, she lifted her cell to glance at the time. “Probably rehearsal.”

  “She rehearses a lot, huh?”

  “Just as much as Elite,” she replied. “She seemed kinda tired last night.”

  Shirley stepped up to the table. “Sorry for the wait, guys. We’re short-staffed tonight. But when I saw you come in, I put in your usual orders. Is that okay?”

  “Perfect, thanks,” Ryan answered.

  “Drinks?” she asked.

  “Actually, can you pack mine to go? And I want to add something else,” I said.

  Shirley, who was the waitress Wes was allowed to call Veronica, nodded. The two buns her hair was in bounced a little. A few hairs had escaped at the back of her neck and around her ears. “Sure, what do you want to add?”

  I glanced at Rory. “Burger?”

  She shook her head. “Caesar salad.”

  I pointed at Rory but looked at Shirley. “That,” I told her. “With chicken.” Quickly, I glanced back at my bro. “Coffee?”

  “Latte.”

  “One of them too. Actually, make it two. And put some of those sugar packets in the bag.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No. I’ll be right up to pay.”

  “Sure thing, Jamie.” Shirley hesitated before turning to leave.

  “You need something?” Ryan asked.

  “Where’s Wes?” she asked, her voice a little shy.

  Ahh, shit. She totally had the hots for our bro. He should tell her he didn’t swing that way and put her out of her misery. But that was against bro code. His sexuality, his business.

  “He had some classwork to catch up on, so he went home after practice,” Ryan explained.

  “Cool,” she quipped, then went off to put in the rest of my order.

  It didn’t take long for my order to hit the counter in a large brown bag with handles. Beside it was a drink holder with two lattes in white paper cups with black lids. At the same time, Ryan’s burger and extra fries slid across the table, accompanied by Rory’s chicken sandwich.

  “I’ll see you two lovebirds later,” I said, sliding out of the booth while helping myself to some of Ryan’s fries.

  “Asshole,” he muttered.

  “Love you too, bro,” I said, eating another. Then to Rory, I said, “Thanks for the tip.”

  She gave me a wave, and Ryan told her to eat.

  She told him not to boss her, but, bro, I understood his bossiness. I mean, hell, here I was tossing cash down on the counter and taking food over to Mads to make sure she ate too.

  Ryan and I used to be free-range chicken… just roaming around, answering to nobody but ourselves. And now just look at us.

  Two tiny women trying to run us around.

  And what were we doing? Feeding them so they had the energy to do it. This was some messed-up shit.

  But damn, if my stomach didn’t flutter as I pointed my Wrangler in the direction of the theater building, knowing I was going to see her again.

  The building looked like an old, dramatic castle, so perfect for theater. It actually seemed a little creepy against the backdrop of the night sky with cold fall air swirling around. The building itself was made of light-colored limestone and pitched roofing. What gave it more of a castle-like feel were the several tall, Gothic-style round towers.

  Spread out around the massive building was a green lawn with mature trees. I drove right past the front of the building, bypassing the sidewalk and wide limestone stairs that led up to the massive dark-wood door.

  Following the road, I drove around toward the back where I knew the auditorium was located. A wall of thick glass doors allowed light from the inside to spill out over the sidewalk, proving the theory that the cast was inside rehearsing.

  I’d never been to one of Westbrooks’s theater productions. I was too busy swimming, and when I wasn’t in the pool, I was thinking about it. Or trying to keep up with my business management courses. Honestly, I wasn’t much of a book guy. Or a school guy. But I couldn’t just swim at Westbrook. I had to take classes too. And since my dad had his nose in a bunch of businesses, I figured learning to manage some would be good. A career in swimming was hard to come by, hard to keep, and something that didn’t last forever.

  Just because I had my pick of which of his businesses I could walk into and take over didn’t mean I had to be an asshole about it. The least I could do was earn the right to be there with education and not just my last name.

  To be honest, though, bro… I can call you bro, right? Putting on a monkey suit and bossing people around all day seemed kinda tiring. Still, I wasn’t going to half-ass it.

  I didn’t half-ass anything.

  Which was exactly why I was pulling open the wide glass doors leading into the lobby of the impressive auditorium.

  It was a big place with the capability of holding an impressive-sized audience. Just because I never came around to watch the productions here didn’t mean other people didn’t. Hell, some of the most famous celebs in Hollywood came out of Westbrook. Most recently, the actor who was dominating the box office with his action roles.

  There’d also been that one actress years ago that people still talked about. The next Marilyn Monroe, they called her. She polarized Hollywood the minute she stepped in front of a camera, but her success was cut short when she died tragically. In true American fashion, though, her death only made her more famous.

  Last I heard, they were gonna make a movie about her life and use this campus for some of the shots.

  My stomach growled aggressively, reminding me it had been empty too long, and vanished my drifting thoughts. Balancing the bag of takeout and the cup holder in one hand, I tugged open a heavy door leading into the auditorium.

  It was dark where I entered. The seating above me created an overhang, shadowing the space where the doors led inside. Long rows of seats stretched out in front of me, all upholstered in the school color of ivy green.

  All the wood was polished walnut, and the three stories stretched up to a coffered ceiling that glowed with warm lighting.

  Sweeping past the grandiose of it all, I looked directly to the massive stage that sat front and center. Light-colored fabric draped above it, framing out the wide space to make it feel a bit more intimate.

  I expected to find an entire cast milling about, noise, and a space humming with energy. I wouldn’t have been surprised by brighter lights and music.

  There was none of that.

  Instead, there was a heavy moroseness dallying in the air with a certain hint of frustration. I probably wouldn’t have cared much if my girl wasn’t standing in the middle of it all. If I couldn’t practically see the invisible currents snaking around the room attach themselves to her ankles to slowly climb up her leg…

  She was wearing one of those cute little skirts again.

  Did the girl even own pants?

  All that leg…

  Focus, Jamie.

  “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee—” Her voice was strong enough to carry into the back of the auditorium where I remained rooted in the shadows yet soft enough to impart emotion—

  “Stop!” a man bellowed, the sharp demand followed quickly by the loud slap of a rolled-up set of papers smacking into the back of the seat in front of him.

  Tearing my eyes from Madison, I glanced at one of the front rows to whom I assumed was the director.

  “You can do better than that, Madison!” he insisted, rising to his feet. The rolled-up script in his hand waved in her direction. “You’re desperately in love. It’s your first taste of the true emotion, and it has taken over your body and soul. Convince me. Make me believe!”

  I glanced toward Mads, whose shoulders dipped just a fraction beneath her gray sweater.

  What the fuck did he just say to her? Oh, hell noes.

  That man must have been on some damn good drugs to think he could just insult her like that. I started forward, about to let him know my fist was about to give him a one-way trip into rehab, but then my feet stalled when Mads spoke up.

  “I mean, come on!” she snapped. “She’s a thirteen-year-old girl. Practically a child. She doesn’t even know about love as boundless as the sea. And even if she did, Romeo?” She scoffed.

  “Hey,” a man I’d barely even realized was there admonished, taking a step toward her. He had light-brown hair styled up like he spent too much time looking in the mirror (or you know didn’t wear a rubber swim cap most of the day) and was wearing jeans and a polo.

  I didn’t like him.

  Mads slid him a look. “No offense. You play a great Romeo,” she offered, turning back to the director. “He forgets all about his broken heart the minute he lays eyes on Juliet. Not only that, but he’s blinded by rage and kills her cousin.”

  I mean, when she put it that way… My girl had a point.

  “You are taking this too personally,” the director told her, leaving his row of seating. “You may not believe Juliet is in love, but she believes it, and that is all that matters.”

  As he ascended the stairs toward the actors, he went on. “It is not your job to judge their love, only to portray it so the audience can feel it.”

  “Well, it’s hard to portray something I don’t feel,” she muttered. “I understand this play is basically iconic, but couldn’t we have done something a little less… toxic?”

  The director made a strained sound. “People love classics. They love star-crossed lovers. Tragic endings of true love ripped apart—”

  “True love doesn’t end in murder-suicide.” Her voice was tight and underlaid with something that sent warning bells ringing in my head.

  Shoving away from the door, I started down the long aisle.

  “You’re tired.” The director spoke, almost like he was humoring her. I didn’t much care for it. “We will regroup later. Try again.”

  “Maybe we should spend some time together.” The guy playing Romeo spoke up.

  My gaze whipped to his, narrowing.

  “You know, maybe work on our chemistry a bit? Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to pretend you loved me if you liked me a little.”

  No.

  “Wonderful idea, Foster! Your dedication to the theater is noted.” The director nodded enthusiastically. The older man turned to Madison. “You are quite talented. It’s why you were chosen for the lead role. You have to get out of your own way. Get some rest, and we’ll regroup day after tomorrow.”

  The director passed by me on his way out. The second he saw me, his eyebrows shot up, and I arched one of mine.

  His gaze fell onto my Elite hoodie, and recognition sparked in his eyes. “I didn’t realize Elite was into theater.”

  “I’m not,” I deadpanned, keeping my voice low. “I’m into her.” I tossed my chin in the direction of the stage. “So you might want to watch how you talk to her.”

  Anger sparked in the man’s eyes, and he drew himself up to his full height. I was still taller. “I beg your pardon. I said nothing of concern. This is regarding our production.”

  I leaned in, pushing my face toward the man, which caused his words to sputter out.

  I spoke evenly. Quietly. “Telling my girl to go off and spend time with another man is my concern.”

  The man turned bug-eyed. I enjoyed it. “You’re dating Miss Hartley?”

  “Mm.” I agreed. He didn’t need to know I was still working on it.

  “Well, congratulations. I’ll look forward to seeing you in the audience on opening night.”

  Inwardly, I grimaced, but outwardly, I stood tall, keeping my face impassive. “I’m sure you will see me around before then.”

  He swallowed like I was threatening him. Dude needed to grow a pair.

  “Jamie?”

  Dismissing the sackless director, I looked up to the stage. Madison was standing there gaping at me.

  I smiled. “Hey, Mads.”

  “W-what are you doing here?”

  The director took his chance to bolt, and I didn’t give him a backward glance.

  Heading up to the stage, I held up the drink carrier. “Thought you might need some coffee.”

  “That’s for me?”

  “No one else,” I quipped, hoping lame-o Romeo took the hint and got lost.

  A look of relief passed behind her eyes, and I closed the rest of the distance between us, holding out the drinks.

  “Which one?” she asked, nibbling on her lower lip.

  God, the way she tempted me.

  “Whichever one you want, sweetheart.”

  She sucked in her breath at the endearment but kept her eyes averted. She plucked the one closest to her out of the carrier, using her other hand to steady it so it didn’t fall out of my grip.

  “There’s sugar in the bag,” I told her softly.

  With her hands wrapped around the cup, her russet-colored stare drifted to the bag. “Just one.”

  “Go on, then,” I encouraged, holding the bag out so she could reach in.

  She asked, “What else is in there?”

  “Your dinner.”

  Surprise lifted her stare, finally giving me the full weight of it settling wholly on me. Fucking incredible. “You got me dinner?”

  The guy taking up space behind us made a sound. “Shouldn’t you be in the pool?” Clearly, he didn’t get the hint before.

  “Shouldn’t you be leaving?” I deadpanned.

  “Jamie!” Madison admonished.

  It made me feel like I was sucking on a lemon.

  Lame-o Romeo turned gleeful. Asshole. Taking a small step toward Mads, his chest puffed up when she rotated toward him.

  “So about what I said. How about it?”

  “Uhh…” Madison hedged, obviously trying to remember the dude asked her the hell out.

  I wanted to laugh, but someone asking out my girl was not funny.

  “We could go get dinner. Hang out. You know, get to know each other.”

  Madison took a very small, barely perceptible step toward me. It was so small it was almost like a shift of her body weight, but oh, I saw.

  “Not like a date.” The guy hurried to say as if he read that subtle reaction as well. “Just, you know, to help with the play. We could talk about the characters.”

  “For the play,” Mads echoed.

  Oh, for shit’s sake. Did she actually believe this?

  “No,” I intoned, stepping up so my front was against her back.

  She jolted a little, likely about to flee, but I reached over, the pads of my fingers pressing into her hip. She settled immediately.

  “I wasn’t asking you,” he said, lips pinched.

  “Well, I’m answering. Madison is mine, and she doesn’t need to have dinner to talk about the play. If you want to talk to her about it, you can do it at rehearsal.”

  Madison stiffened, her head rotating so fast she nearly clobbered me with the messy knot at her crown. I saw the sharp denial form on her tongue and was nearly stabbed by the daggers in her stare.

  “You two are dating?”

  The incredulity in his tone made me look away. “Is that so surprising?”

  “You never mentioned a boyfriend,” he said, this time directing his words to Madison. There was an underlying note of hurt in his voice.

  Aww, he had a crush. Too damn bad.

  “I wasn’t aware she owed you the details about her life,” I said, unforgiving.

  Madison stiffened again and opened her mouth. I applied a little extra pressure at her hip with my fingertips.

  “It’s new,” she told her costar.

  “Well, considering how you feel about this play, I’m surprised you would date someone who tells you who you can and can’t be friends with.”

  She made a sound deep in her throat.

  The guy grabbed up a jacket nearby as well as his script. “The offer to hang out is still open. I think it would help with the play,” he told Madison, refusing to look at me.

  Guy had balls. I’d give him that.

  “I have coffee every morning at the coffee shop across from campus. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Okay. See you later, Foster.”

  Lame-o Romeo was a better name than Foster. The only good Romeo I knew was Romeo Anderson who was the best quarterback the NFL had ever seen. I didn’t even live in Maryland, and I was a fan of the guy.

  I said nothing until he was gone and the door at the back of the auditorium latched loudly, the sound echoing up to the high ceiling.

  Madison turned, her stare deepening to a shade of rich mahogany. The hand not holding the coffee fisted on her curvy little hip, and frankly, she turned me the hell on.

  But then she had to go and yell at me.

  “What in the hell is wrong with you?”

  4

  Madison

  * * *

  “Take off your shoes.”

  The answer brought me up short. Was he out of his ever-loving mind? First, he shows up here unannounced looking like… well, like he does. And then he hands me a coffee and tells me he brought dinner.

  My mind was spinning.

  But that’s not all. Then… Then he tells Foster we’re dating and has the nerve to try and boss me in front of him.

  What’s worse? I just stood there.

  Now here I was asking him what in the hell was wrong with him, and he says, Take off your shoes.

  Um, hello. Was this the twilight zone?

  Unable to process, I blinked. Then blinked again. “Excuse me?”

  He made a rough sound that made my stomach flip. “If you want me to tell you what’s wrong with me, I’m going to need to see you without those damn heels ‘cause I’m probably going to have to add shit to the list.”

  I took a sip of the coffee he brought. It was a latte, just how I liked it, but I wrinkled my nose. I needed to add the sugar.

  Jamie set everything in his hands on the stage and took the coffee from me. Without a word, he popped the lid, releasing a little puff of steam. “Come on, then. Add the sugar.”

  I glanced at the packet in my fingers and ripped it open, dumping the sweet granules into the hot liquid.

  “There’s a stir stick in the bag,” he said, so I rummaged around and then stirred the brew.

 

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