Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
We lie pasted together, sticky come lining our stomachs and dripping down his legs, and I want to beat my chest like a damned gorilla that I get to have him—love him, indulge him, and even argue with him.
Micah hums in satisfaction, and as our gazes hold, I know with razor-sharp certainty that I will never feel for anyone what I do for Micah Malone. No matter what life brings us.
30
MICAH
I’m lying in bed, thinking about the play and how much joy I got out of it, how alive and accomplished it made me feel. Would I be able to do something like that long-term? Give up auditioning for acting roles and work in theater instead, in any capacity, from costume to production crew?
I sigh. It’s where I started eight years ago, with few opportunities around here, and it wasn’t enough. But maybe I’d have more prospects in LA and still be able to keep my job at the restaurant. At least with the money from the sale of the house and boat, I’ll have more wiggle room. I roll over and bury my head in my pillow as an icy, thorny feeling jabs at my chest. When all is said and done, I will have nothing left of my grandfather—or John—except my memories, and that will have to do.
The sharp trill of my cell phone startles me. It’s my agent.
My gut churns as I reach for it. Just because I thought the audition went well means nothing. I’ve been in this position dozens of times before. I brace myself for bad news. “Hey, Ken.”
“Are you sitting down?” he asks, then blurts, “You got it! You’ve officially been offered a limited role in Cold Blade.”
I practically spring out of bed as my heart pounds. “No fucking way!”
“The cast has a call time in a couple of weeks, so you need to get your ass home.”
It’s all familiar by now—meeting the other actors and crew, setting up the scene, and rehearsing the lines, no matter how few there are—but this time, it feels different. It weighs more because it’s a popular show and will look amazing on my résumé.
“Guess it’s a good thing this house is closing soon.”
“Congratulations. Looks like everything is finally lining up for you.”
I smile blandly because the well-wishes don’t quite land. “Thanks.”
I get dressed, then root around the pantry for food but come up short. So I head into town for breakfast. The weather is perfect, the sky a vivid blue, and I feel—dare I say it—proud of myself for killing it in my audition.
“Hey there, handsome,” June says as I find a stool at the counter. “I enjoyed the play the other day.”
“Thank you.” I smile, but my stomach quivers when I imagine John’s reaction to hearing the good news from LA.
June takes my order, then turns over a mug and fills it with steaming coffee. I doctor it with cream and sugar and enjoy my first few sips.
As I dig into my pancakes, I feel someone sit beside me.
“I’ll have the same,” Beth says to June. “But make them blueberry.”
“Good morning,” I say as she flips her cup and June pours the coffee. She sips while I check emails on my phone from the production company.
After several seconds of silence, Beth leans forward to catch my eye. “Seems you got lots on your mind.”
“I definitely do.” I almost tell her I got cast in a popular show, but John needs to hear it first. Instead, my voice wobbles as I throw out, “My grandfather’s house sold, so I’ll be hitting the road soon.”
She smiles. “Dina told me the news. Rocco is a good man, and I’m sure he’ll make good use of the property.”
It feels like a ball of jagged ice is trapped in my throat. I didn’t think I’d feel this way—so emotional, so forlorn about leaving a place I was never sure about to begin with.
We make small talk as we eat and sip from our second cups. June is too busy to say much else to either of us, but I can’t help wondering if it’s purposeful, a protective thing regarding her brother. But that’s ridiculous. We’ve always been friendly. I consider her family. Always will, even after the divorce.
As we pay our bills, Beth glances at me. “Suppose this is it, then.”
“Seems so,” I admit. Though I might see her again at the bar, I won’t have much reason to shop in town again. “Guess you were right about me and about…the sun and ocean.”
“I don’t enjoy being right, you know. Not when it involves something like this.” She smiles sadly. “Just remember that you’ll always belong. To us and to him.”
Fucking hell, Beth. Way to muddy my emotions further.
We say our goodbyes to June, and then I hold open the door for Beth. We head in opposite directions, me for groceries to tide me over for a few days and her to the shop.