Chapter 44
44
Ezra
“Dude, I haven’t heard from her, and every time I call, it goes straight to voicemail. She never charges her fucking phone. I’m kinda freaking out.”
It’s been hours since Millie’s show ended, and I can’t get a hold of her. Would it be overbearing to ask her to share her location so I can track her like I do Kane? Probably.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Cam says. “Hold on. Joey just walked in. Let me see if she knows anything.”
Pacing my apartment, I hold the phone to my ear and wait for his response. “Jo says she’s on a flight.”
I exhale loudly. “Fuck, I forgot. I can’t keep up with her schedule.”
“I’m sure she’ll call you when she lands.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Despite my words, I can’t help but feel like that might not be the case. We left things on a sour note, and it’s killing me that I haven’t had the chance to explain my reaction yesterday. Between my exhaustion and the way she was pushing me, I was concerned I’d stick my foot in my mouth and make matters worse. This long-distance thing is wearing on me. I miss my girl.
The phone vibrates at my ear, and I pull it back to look at the screen. “Finally. It’s her.”
Cam wishes me luck, and with a quick thank-you, I tap the screen and accept the call.
“Millie?”
“Hey.” She sounds out of breath.
“Listen, I’m?—”
She cuts me off with her own “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, honey. I feel awful for making you think I was breaking up with you. I would never?—”
“I know. I know. And I’m sorry for pushing you. You told me you were tired and wanted to table the conversation, and I should have listened.”
My heart hammers as I soak in her words and her gentle tone. “I miss you.”
“I miss you so fucking much, Ezra.” The authenticity in her tone makes my chest squeeze.
“Where are you?”
“I… I’m just getting off the plane. I sent over Levain cookies for you and Kane. Did you get them yet?”
“No? I haven’t heard the buzzer, and Kane didn’t say anything when he left for work. I’ll go check.”
If I don’t get them now, he’ll eat them all. Phone still pressed to my ear, I yank the door open, my attention homed in on the welcome mat. Where I expect to find a box of cookies from my favorite bakery, I find a pair of white sneakers.
I drag my gaze up the legs and torso in front of me until I’m face-to-face with the most beautiful woman in the world. “Millie? What are you doing here?”
“Surprise,” she sings.
The echo of her squeal through the phone causes me to wince, then instantly fall into laughter. I disconnect the call and tentatively reach out, convinced she’s a hologram. Thankfully, rather than pass through a 3D image, my fingers make contact with soft skin, confirming she’s not a vision I conjured up.
“What are you doing here?” I can’t take my eyes off her red-stained lips. She’s wearing fake lashes and her hair is in a topknot.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” She giggles.
“Shit, of course.” I take her suitcase from her and step back.
In the entryway, she drops her carry-on and purse and flings herself into my arms.
We sway in exuberance. When she finally pulls away, I keep my arms looped around her and kiss the top of her head. She smells like a bouquet of flowers covered in aerosol hairspray.
“What are you doing here?” Third time’s the charm, right? Or is something wrong? Shit. My heart plummets as I hold her at arm’s length and inspect her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she promises, breaking into a wide grin. “I actually have some news.”
“Should we sit down?” I lead her into the living room. “Do you want something to drink?”
With a shake of her head, she drops onto the sofa and tucks her legs beneath her. She’s wearing the leggings I love so much, paired with a tight cream-colored tank top that pushes her breasts up. Thank god for the hidden folder on my phone, otherwise I’d be ripping that damn tank in two right now.
“So?” I scoot in close, my knee bumping hers, and rest my arm along the back of the sofa.
“Remember the jerk of a director I dealt with when I was in Mamma Mia ? Taron?”
My blood heats at just the name. “Mm-hmm.”
“His wife called me.”
My eyes nearly leap out of their sockets in response to that revelation. Before I can ask an entire host of questions, she grasps my hand.
“Ex-wife, I should say.” She tells me about an article published about West and how his ex-wife called, first to apologize for the man’s behavior, then… “She offered me a job.”
I’m hit with a jolt of excitement, though it quickly mixes with confusion. “What do you?—”
“It’s here. The job. It’s in the city.” She’s bouncing so animatedly she’s practically in my lap now. “She’s been workshopping a brand-new top-secret musical and wants me to star in it. On Broadway.”
My heart stutters at the pure elation on her face and in her tone. Tugging her the rest of the way onto my lap, I smother her with a kiss. “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations.” I stamp her entire face with kisses until she’s giggling and squirming against me.
Having her in my arms again is incredible. My dick would agree. It’s pretty damn sick of my fist these days.
I lean back. “But what about Matilda and your contract?” I don’t know how the theater world works. Could she really just up and leave?
“It turns out Diane has a lot of connections in the industry. She got me out of my contract in record time. We were already at the airport, so I switched my flight and came here. My understudy is amazing and was thrilled to step up.” She shrugs. “Everyone wins.”
A sense of peace washes over me. She’s back in the city. For now, at least.
“What’s this new production?”
She twines her fingers into the hair at my nape, sending a shiver down my spine. With a lustful grin and a twinkle in her green eyes, she says, “ The Proposal .”
For the next several minutes, she remains exactly where she belongs—on my lap—and gushes about the musical rendition of the early 2000s rom-com.
“But what about your apartment?” She sublet her place and can’t just kick the person out.
“The sublease is up in a month and a half.” She twists her fingers in her lap. “It’s not a legal contract, but…”
“You’ll move in with me.”
“Okay, big guy. No one said anything about moving in.” Cheeks flushed, she peers up at me from beneath her fake lashes. “But maybe I could stay here for a bit?”
“No.”
“Oh…” Lowering her chin, she slumps.
I tilt her face so she’s forced to meet my gaze. “You’ll move in with me.”
She makes a choked sound. “You’re serious?”
Collecting her hands in mine, I nod. “There’s no reason for you to live four blocks away when I want you in my bed every single night.”
“But what about Kane?”
“I’ve already cleared it with him.”
Brows lowered, she frowns. “What? When?”
“One night when we were playing would you rather. At first it was hypothetical, but then we got to talking about it more seriously.”
“So this has been on your mind?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Her cheeks pinken further. “You promise he’s okay with it? He’s had to adjust to so many things recently?—”
“I wouldn’t put him in an uncomfortable position. You know that.” And I love the way she always puts his needs above her own.
“Of course. Okay, wow. Um, can I think about it?”
My stomach tightens uncomfortably. “Oh, uh, sure.” I was confident she’d accept my proposition. Shit. How can I convince her? Joey would know. Maybe I should text her?—
“Can I take a shower?” she asks, cutting off my spiraling thoughts. “I came straight from the theater.”
“Absolutely.” As I’m setting her on her feet, the alarm on my phone goes off. “I have a virtual with my therapist anyway.”
“Do you need me to leave to give you some privacy?”
“No, no. Just take a long shower.” With a wink, I snag her suitcase. Then I roll it into my bedroom. “Kane’s working for a few more hours, so I’ll use his room.”
“You doing okay?” She scrutinizes me, searching for hidden answers.
“Yeah, baby. Promise. I’m doing even better now that you’re here.”