If Ever(75)

I take a moment to process this news. “Well, it’s good that you’re going.”

“I should have mentioned it sooner, but honestly, I’ve barely thought about it. Ever since you showed up, you’re all I think about.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you get to meet your niece and be with your family.” I say the words in the most honest tone, but it’s hard to hide my disappointment. All this talk about me staying with him in the city and he’s the one leaving. Now what do I do?

“Please tell me you have plans for the holidays?”

I look ahead as we walk. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“But you just mentioned you don’t have family. You could stay in my flat. Ryan will be here so you wouldn’t be alone.”

Staying in his apartment while he’s gone seems weird. Maybe this relationship is running its course faster than I feared. “No, I’m fine. I mean. I haven’t been home since before Celebrity Dance Off. There’s so many people to catch up with, and Anna’s been wanting to nail down plans for her bachelorette party. I should take care of things at my apartment. It’s perfect timing.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel like a total wanker when I just told you to stay indefinitely. I just wasn’t thinking about Christmas.”

“I’m sure.” This time when I smile at him I see relief on his face. I guess I better book a ticket.

“But I want you to come back as soon as the holidays are over.”





*





"Chelsea must love the show to be here again," Paige says Tuesday night during intermission.

"She's not here. She's at my place Skyping one of her friends back home."

Paige acts confused. "Are you sure? When I made my audience exit after the park scene, I could swear I saw her in an aisle seat on the left side."

"Not her." But then I start to wonder. Chelsea wouldn't actually come to the show and not tell me, would she? "Show me."

We sneak up to the second level where there's a side balcony on stage left. Paige parts the thick black curtains just enough to peek out.

"Right there." She points. "Fifth row from the back on the aisle." She steps back.

I peek through the slit. "Bloody hell." There's Chelsea, not a care in the world, looking at her phone. Dumbstruck, I say, "I had no idea."

Paige bites back a grin. "I saw her last night too."

"That little shit." My phone lights up with a text message. I shake my head.

"Is it her?"

"Yup."

Paige laughs. "Are you going to tell her you know?"

"Not yet."





When I get home after the show, Chelsea's sprawled on the couch in yoga pants and her Crossing Lines sweatshirt. The clicker is aimed at the telly as if she's been here all night. I sit on the edge blocking her view. "How was your Skype with Anna?"

"Great. How was the show?" She asks innocently.

"It was a disaster." I shake my head and sigh dramatically.

"It was?"

Now I have her attention. "During the first act, one wall of set fell, nearly missing Paige."

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion.

"And then there was a fire in the final scene." Her face is adorable as she tries to figure out how she missed this.

"You're making that up," she says.

"I'm not," I say with a straight face. "We had to evacuate the theatre and do bows in the street."

She sits up. "That did not happen."

"How would you know?" I pin her with a stare. Caught in the act, her mouth clamps shut and her face goes red. "Because you were there?" I tickle her and she curls up giggling. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to see the show again? And again?" I add with emphasis.

She ducks her head. "I was embarrassed."

"Oh my God. Chelsea Barnes, are you a fangirl?"

"No!" she declares, aghast, as if being compared with the fans at the stage door is an insult.

"Admit it. You really like me." My fingers find her ticklish spot again.

She falls into peals of laughter. "No, I don't."

I jump on top of her, pinning her to the couch. "Admit it." I rub my scruffy chin against her tender neck.

She shrieks and giggles. "No. Never!" She squirms against me, making it even more fun. So I give her sloppy wet snogs on the neck and then a little bite. She squeals and then snorts, which makes me laugh.

"Stop, please stop," she calls out, breathless.

I pull back and see happy tears shining on her cheeks.

"Is this a bad time?" Ryan asks. He and Kirk are watching us.

I look at Chelsea and we both crack up.

"Their clothes are on. I think we're okay," Kirk says.

Later, I ease Chelsea onto my sheets. Her warm body responds immediately as I touch her petal soft skin, lightly coasting my hands over her body, down her flat stomach, to her hips and beyond. As her heavy-lidded eyes gaze into my soul, her pulse races, and lips part. She makes satisfied sounds, but this time it's not laughter.