London Falling (10 page)

He looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“Do you really want to go to law school and follow in your mother’s footsteps?”

“Sure. Why not?”

I was crossing a line, but I didn’t want to retreat. “You aren’t the lawyer type.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re too adventurous, Beau, to be stuck behind a desk or in meetings all day. You would die from boredom taking depositions and arguing in a courtroom. Ok, you are good at arguing, but you would get tired of it.”

His laugh resonated around the coffeehouse. I didn’t like the attention we were getting from the other coffee drinkers and that darn barista.

“For someone I’m fake dating, you sure seem to think you know a lot about who I am and what I need or want.”

I contained an impulse to gulp.
Want?
Could he see that I all I wanted right now was to taste those lips? He leaned toward me and his eyes blazed right through me, making my knees go weak. He was right. I did think I knew him, and everything about his plan after graduation didn’t feel right. He was right about something else too—I wasn’t his girlfriend. Hearing him say it made me want part of it to be different.

“Just call me your observant fake girlfriend.”

Beau shuffled in his seat and cleared his throat. Ok. I took it too far.

“You ready?” Beau stood next to the table. I guess that was the cue the date was over.

“Sure.”

I followed him out of the coffeehouse and hesitated in front of his motorcycle. I felt like I had turned the date upside down. I should have opened up more and told him I knew what it was like to be expected to live a certain life. That I knew how hard it is to break free from the guilt of disappointing people you care about because you never want them to think you’re anything but a success. However, I didn’t tell him any of that. As easy as it was for me to pour my heart out on stage and eke out every human emotion for the world to see, sharing all of that with Beau would make me more vulnerable than I wanted to be.

“Can I get a ride?”

Beau didn’t answer. He handed me the passenger helmet and waited while I mounted the back of the bike. Before I could decide where to put my hands, he reached behind his waist, grabbed both of my arms, and wrapped them securely around his chest.

I pressed my body against his back and let my cheek rest against his shirt. He squeezed my hand before revving the bike and whipping us out of the parking lot. We had stopped talking, but not communicating.

When we pulled into my driveway, the lights were out at the house. Nina was probably asleep and Candace was still at Pearce’s place.

I swung my leg off the bike and looked at Beau. Standing next to him felt different. I wasn’t ready for our fake date to be done. There was something stirring in me that had been swirling for weeks. I ran through a quick list of ways to stall, but all I could focus on were those lips and dark eyes. My mind was a total blank.

“Good night, London.” Beau fit his helmet over his head and closed the sun visor.

Just as I was taking a step to the side to let him roll the bike backward, he reached up and traced the side of my face. I hesitated, unsure how to stop him from leaving, but just as quickly as he made the gesture, he rolled out of the driveway and down Mallette Street.

I felt the stirring sensation as he drove away. Shit! No. No. No. Nina was right. I had a crush on Beau Anderson.

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Derek first pitched the idea of
Spoiled Hearts
and opening it Valentine’s night, I thought it was smart. Standing behind the curtain with a packed house crammed into our experimental basement theater, I knew he wasn’t just smart, he was brilliant.

“London, I really want to talk to you after the show,” Derek whispered in my ear just as I took my mark on stage. Something about the way his lips almost grazed my earlobe gave me chills.

“Ok, but I have plans. It will have to be quick.” I smiled at him and inched to the side, careful not to leave the general area of my mark.

I shook my hands next to my side and inhaled deeply. It was my last second ritual before the show began. Madame Marguerite, my classical ballet instructor, had taught me the technique the night of my first recital and the tradition was born.

“Break a leg.” He swatted me on the ass, letting his fingers trail across my butt as he walked away. What in the hell was that?

I focused on my breathing and tried to shake the aggravated feeling. Derek had never touched me, much less on a place on my body he had no right to feel. I could hear the music rising, the lights were on, and it was showtime—my favorite time. I shook my palms once more, and then closed my eyes just as the curtain rose from the floor.

***

For the third time, I trotted to the front of the stage and took a deep bow. The audience hadn’t stopped clapping and the whistling was outrageous. This was by far the best reception our troupe had ever received on opening night. I was giddy and ecstatic. I couldn’t see past the blaring spotlights, but I knew somewhere in the audience my Comm 224 partner was applauding and waiting for our date to begin.

Finally, the lights dimmed and I hustled backstage, eager to change out of my costume and makeup.

“London, you were amazing.”

“Great role for you, girl.”

“You killed it out there tonight.”

I smiled and thanked everyone as I rushed past the crew and my costars. The company was gathering on stage to celebrate, so I had a few minutes alone in the shared girls’ dressing room.

I smiled at my reflection in the Hollywood-style mirror and immediately began the process of dismantling the heavy eye makeup caked on my face. Beau was waiting for me somewhere in the crowd outside the door.

Ever since our basketball date, it had been harder to stop thinking about him. We definitely had a moment in the driveway. The problem was that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I was not supposed to be having any kind of moments with him. I don’t know how everything in me was all of a sudden so thrown by Beau Anderson.

When I saw him in class on Tuesday, I couldn’t even make eye contact without my cheeks turning a shade of bright pink. The kind of pink that shouted, I have a huge crush on you. He didn’t seem to notice and that seemed to make it worse.

Tonight, I had resolved to have fun and try to focus on the project. This date was for a grade. I had to keep reminding myself of that. It just didn’t help that it was Valentine’s night, and my partner was all of a sudden the hottest guy I had wrapped my arms around.

There was a light knock on the door, shaking me out of my Beau thoughts. “Come in.”

Derek pushed the door open and closed it behind him. “Hey.”

“Oh. Hi, Derek.”

I pulled out a cotton ball and started dabbing at my cheeks. Seeing him reminded me of the weird ass pat he gave me on stage. Maybe I had misinterpreted the gesture. We were all a little punchy on opening night. He was the writer, director, and producer. If anyone had a right to have preshow jitters tonight, it was Derek.

“You were more than I could have dreamed of tonight, London. You were relentless. What you did out there was—”

Derek’s compliments were interrupted. There was another knock on the door, this time more assertive.

“Come in.” Sharing a dressing room with six girls was nothing if not a test of modesty and privacy. Girls were usually floating in and out like a revolving door.

Instead of a person, a bouquet of red roses worked their way through the crack in the door. I spun around in my chair as Beau followed.

He laughed as he crossed the room and handed them to me. “I know they are kinda cliché on Valentine’s Day, but they are the perfect symbol of
Love Match.
My choices were kind of limited today. Plus, every pretty girl deserves flowers on Valentine’s Day.”

I managed to keep myself from squealing as I accepted the dozen roses in my arms.

“Yeah, man, those are cliché. Who are you anyway? Who let you back here?” Derek muttered.

“Derek! This is Beau, my Comm 224 partner.” I smiled reassuringly at Beau, noticing he was dressed in dark pants and a button-up shirt.

“Oh, right, the guy you’re fake dating for class. I heard about that. Can’t find anyone who will date you, man?”

“Derek! Seriously. What is wrong with you?” I withheld a slap that was ready to fly from my palm.

The irritated playwright rubbed the scruff along his jawline. “Nothing. Nothing. I’ll catch you later, London.”

He knocked into Beau’s shoulder as he exited the dressing room. I watched in total bewilderment as the other girls in the cast started filtering in.

“Beau, give me five minutes. I’m almost ready.” I smiled and shooed him out the door before the girls started disrobing in front of him. Nudity in this troupe was all part of the family environment.

The little pit that started to form when Derek was in the room eased with the chatter of the other girls. I didn’t think anyone else saw or heard what had happened.

Candace ran up and threw her arms around my neck. “Babe, you were unforgettable tonight. It was our best show yet. The best.”

I was glad Candace had decided to stick with the performance. Although I was sure this was going to be her last show, it was nice to share the stage with her.

“Is Pearce here? Was he in the audience?” I hoped, for her sake, the man in her life had bothered to attend her opening night performance.

“He made it at intermission. He’s outside now. We’re going back to his place for a special romantic Valentine’s dinner. He said he’s going to cook. Isn’t he the sweetest?”

While the rest of us were taking off our makeup, Candace was adding to hers. There was a certain image associated with the role of football girlfriend, and Candace made sure she fulfilled Pearce’s expectations in every way possible. At least he was here on opening night—that should count for something.

“I’m happy for you, Candace. Sounds like you and Pearce are going to have a great time. I didn’t know he could cook.” We laughed together. The image of Pearce stirring boiling water while wearing his shoulder pads popped in my head.

“London, the guy outside the dressing room, is he who you’re blogging about for class?” Penelope, one of the costars, asked.

“Yes. That’s Beau Anderson. We’re Comm 224 partners.”

“He’s cute.”

Candace winked at me with a knowing look.

Nina skipped into the room and slammed the door behind her. “Holy shit. Who is the hot guy outside our dressing room?”

All eyes turned to me. Did other people immediately see what it had taken me a month to realize?

“Uh, that’s Beau.”

“Are you kidding me? What in the hell is wrong with you, London? That’s the rock-climbing, motorcycle-riding, basketball champion Beau?”

“Uh. Yeah.” I cowered in front of the lights. Nina was going to let me have it.

“I’m letting you off the hook this time because I know you have plans and because I have plans too.” She had the cat that ate the canary look on her face.

“You do?”

Candace chimed in. “Love is in the air. Of course she has plans.”

Nina’s cheeks were flushed. “I ran into Derek backstage and he asked me to get a drink with him. I think this is it. He has finally come to his senses.” I watched as she lowered her shirt to expose a little more cleavage.

“Um, Nina?”

“What?” She turned toward me, dabbing extra coats of mascara on her lashes.

I chickened out. She looked so excited and it was Valentine’s night. I couldn’t crumble the fantasy she had since our freshman year. “Nothing. Have fun.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me. Candace is right. Love is in the air.”

“Bye, Candace. Tell Pearce hi.” I wanted both of my roommates to have a special night with their Valentines.

I grabbed my coat and my roses and walked out to meet Beau.

“Ready?” Beau eyed me as I covered up my deep green dress with a knee-length vintage coat I had found in a thrift store.