Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(55)

For the next hour and a half we run lines. No personal anecdotes. No lingering gazes. Just business.

When he seems satisfied and comfortable, I bid him a quick good night and head to the subway station. I’d congratulate myself on my self-control if I didn’t still feel a little high from having had his hands on me.





ELEVEN


DRESSES AND DIVAS


The rest of the second week of rehearsals flies by. Days are spent blocking the show. Nights are spent running lines with Liam.

For the most part, we’re successful in keeping things professional. Every now and then, I catch myself staring and turn away before he can see. At other times, he tries to draw me into conversation at the end of the night, but I’m careful to shut him down. I get in, run the lines, and get out. Quick and unemotional. It’s the only way things between us can work.

In the rehearsal room, it’s harder to stay detached.

Even though I thought I’d gotten used to seeing Liam and Angel’s regular displays of affection over the years, now that I know he still has feelings for me, every time he touches or kisses her, I feel a stab of jealousy. I try not to let it affect my friendship with Angel, but it’s tough. I find myself making excuses to not talk to her during lunch, and whenever I need to discuss show-related matters, I send Josh to do my dirty work.

I feel bad, because none of this is her fault, but the human heart has a flawed logic all its own, and no amount of reasoning will convince it to stop making people like me behave like assholes.

For her part, Angel seems oblivious. She continues to be friendly, easygoing, and hardworking, and for some reason, that makes things worse. If she was a total bitch, I wouldn’t feel so bad about my negative feelings for her. But she isn’t, so I do.

I’m packing up on Friday evening when I see her approaching with an expression of suppressed excitement. Right away, I’m nervous.

“Hey, you,” she says, and takes both of my hands. “What are you up to tonight?”

“I was going to finish up some work, then head home. Why?”

She looks like she’s about to burst out of her skin. “Well, there’s a super-exclusive bridal boutique in the garment district I’ve been dying to visit, and they’ve offered to give me private access tonight to try on some gowns. Since we haven’t been able to spend much time together this week, I thought you might like to come. You know, girls’ night out. There’ll be champagne.”

“Well, uh . . . who else is going?”

“Just the camera crew. The producers are dying to get shots of me in wedding dresses. You know how it is.” She squeezes my hands and bounces on her toes. “Please come. I don’t have any other female friends in New York. You’d save me from being a total loser trying on dresses by myself. Pleeeease?”

She bats her eyelashes, and I can’t help but laugh. Even though the absolute last thing I want to do in my spare time is help Angel become the world’s most gorgeous bride, the guilt I feel for avoiding her all week wells up, and I can’t seem to refuse. “Okay, sure. I’d love to come.”

“Oh, yay!” She does a little jumpy clap. It’s so adorable, I hate her. And then I hate myself for being a bitch.

“I’m just going to freshen up,” she says. “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes, okay?”

“Great.”

As I’m packing up the rest of the production table, Josh appears beside me.

“Sounds like you’re in for a fun evening. Leave this. I’ll finish packing up for you.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and slings my bag over my shoulder before grabbing my phone off the table. “Want me to text Quinn and tell him you’ll be late for line practice?”

“Yes, please.” Josh is the one person who knows about my nightly visits to Liam’s apartment, and even though I haven’t said anything about dyslexia, I know he suspects something like that.

“Should I tell him the reason you’ll be late?”

I frown. “Yes. Why?”

He gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Just not sure how he’d feel about his ex picking out wedding dresses for his woman.”

“I’m barely his ex. Anyway, he was the one who told me it’s impossible to say no to Angel. It is, by the way.”

He chuckles. “Oh, believe me, I know. She asked me to sing for her the other day, and I did.”

“What? But you never sing. I mean, I’ve heard you in the shower, but that’s it.”

“I told you, the woman has me wrapped around her finger. It’s both hot and annoying.” He taps on the phone. “Okay, so ‘Gone wedding-dress shopping with Angel. Be over later.’ Want me to include anything provocative? Broken-heart emoticon, perhaps? Jealous green-face?” He gives me an innocent look, and I give him my best glare. He looks back down at the phone. “Hmmm, not sure there’s a shriveled-balls emoticon, but I’ll do my best.”

I smile. “Just send the message, Josh.”

He finishes and presses “send” before handing the phone back to me. “So, you told me not to be worried when you started running lines with Quinn every night, even though I think you’re playing with fire. Are you also going to tell me not to worry about going wedding-dress shopping with your arch nemesis? Because honestly, my Spidey sense is tingling, and not in a good way.”