Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(21)

“Uh, hi, Liam. Great to meet you. Do you need the pages?”

He puts his phone and headphones on a chair and gives her a smile. “No, thanks. I have it memorized.”

“Okay, then. Just take your time, and start when you’re ready.”

I take my seat in a daze as Liam draws in a few deep breaths to prepare.

Next to me, Miriam whispers to herself, “Dear almighty Gods of Theater, I’ll never ask you for anything else as long as I live, but please, please, please let this man be able to act. I’m begging you.”

I’m still too shocked by Liam’s presence to even laugh.

He rolls his neck and shakes out his hands, then he closes his eyes for a few seconds. When he opens them, he blows us away by delivering the most incredible interpretation of Romeo I’ve ever seen.

Bastard.


Miriam is gushing. I’ve never seen her do that. Most of the time she’s terse and straightforward, but right now she’s spouting compliments all over Liam.

Can’t say I blame her. Not only did he deliver an amazingly intelligent performance, it was also hot as hell. When he was done, Miriam applauded. She asked him to read some more, but he said he hadn’t brought his glasses and couldn’t see the script without them.

It didn’t matter. By then he had the role in the bag.

I’m still reeling that he’s here. Wait, reeling isn’t the right word. “Furious” is more like it. I’m so angry, I’m shaking.

What breed of asshole lies to someone’s face? Oh, that’s right, an asshole actor. I really do have the worst taste in men.

“Elissa.” Miriam comes over to me. “Can you get all of Liam’s details and take his measurements? I have to run. Make sure he’s back here Monday to read with our Juliets. We’ll have to see who has the most chemistry with him.”

I have no doubt Liam could have chemistry with a brick wall if he tried.

She pats me on the arm. “See you both soon. Great job today, Liam!”

Liam waves as she leaves, then turns to me. He looks so self-satisfied, I want to smack him.

I walk over with my clipboard and measuring tape. “What the hell was that?”

“According to your director, the perfect mix of romantic passion and masculine power.”

“You lied to me last night!”

“No. I told you the truth. I work in construction with my dad and have never set foot onstage. This is my first audition. Technically, I wasn’t an actor until just now.”

“Oh, what crap. No one is as good as you were the first time at bat.”

He holds up his hands. “I swear to God, I’m not lying. I’ve wanted to act for years, but life got in the way. I saw the audition notice for this a few weeks ago and decided to give it a try.”

“So this is just some crazy coincidence? Please.”

“No, it’s not coincidence. It’s fate. I keep telling you that.” He takes a step forward, his expression serious. “I know you feel it, too. Or do you not remember how close we came to committing an illegal public act last night?” He winds an arm around my waist. I clench my jaw to stop myself from pressing against him. “We could finish what we started, you know. That table looks pretty sturdy.”

Everything slows down as I watch his mouth get closer, but thankfully, my sense of professionalism overpowers my insane attraction, and I find the strength to step away.

“Let’s just get these measurements done so we can get out of here,” I say in my most no-nonsense tone. I put down my clipboard and unfurl the measuring tape. “Arms up, please.”

He raises his arms. Because he’s so broad, I have to press against him in order to wrap the tape around his chest. When my nipples harden in response, I huff in frustration.

“Listen, Liss,” he says softly. “I’m sorry I bent the truth last night, but if I’d admitted I wanted to be an actor, I’d have missed out on the most incredible kiss of my entire life, and I have zero regrets about that. Let me take you out to dinner to make it up to you.”

“I can’t.” I write down his chest measurement on my clipboard.

“Sure you can.”

I look him in the eye. “No, I really can’t. Apart from anything else, you’re now in a show I’m running, so you’re totally off-limits to me.” I wrap the tape around his neck. When I graze his throat with my hand, he sucks in a quick breath. Thank God I’m not alone in being hot and bothered by our proximity. “And even if I was stupid enough to consider a workplace romance, which I’m not, you’re onstage, and I’m backstage. You might as well be a Montague and me a Capulet.”

“What, so actors can’t date crew?”

I wrap the tape around his waist, then move to his hips. “It’s not that they can’t, but most don’t. A lot of actors consider themselves above the crew and don’t date down.”

“I don’t consider myself above you. No, wait. . . .” He thinks for a second. “Last night there were several times I imagined myself above you. It was hot as hell.”

When I hear the smile in his voice, I look up from writing on my clipboard. “This isn’t funny.”

“It is, a little. I mean, come on.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for patience. I don’t know if I’m more pissed with him for deceiving me, or with myself for wanting him anyway.