Chapter 2 Second Act Romance #8
“Speaking of proper names, you said ‘Colby’ isn’t even your real name?”
“It isn’t. It’s my brother’s name.”
“You stole your brother’s name?”
“He never lets me forget it. You wanna know what’s worse? He’s a doctor. A real one.”
Bex laughed. “What does C. J. stand for?”
“Christopher Junior. There was already a Christopher Turner, a Christopher J. Turner, a Chris Turner,” he said. “My agents turned down C. J., not wanting me pigeonholed as a frat boy.” He nodded to her. “And you are . . . a Rebecca?”
“Rebecca Hardgrave, according to my contracts.”
“Rebecca Hardgrave,” he said, testing it on his tongue like he had when he’d learned her name was Bex. She liked the sound of it.
C. J. stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you, Rebecca.”
She felt bubbly as her hand slid into his, like they hadn’t just pressed their bodies together during the dream ballet.
“It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”
He kept her hand, his thumb rubbing softly over her skin.
“I’m gonna be asking for your number once I’ve located my phone,” he said simply. “Just giving you a heads-up.”
The warmth in her chest spread upward, bringing color to her cheeks. “Okay,” she said, pressing back a smile.
His expression turned playfully serious. “Your social security number, to clarify.” She laughed, and he took her breath away when he added softly, “Took me too long to find you before. Gotta make sure I have all the identifying information this time.”
Bex’s skin buzzed with the promise of the rest of the evening.
Not just act 2, with its seven different kisses, but after.
The evening sprawling out—Valentine’s Day.
And not just a regular Valentine’s Day. Dana would be quick to remind her that the Star-Crossed Lovers comets made today even more special.
She might want to look at the stars with someone tonight after all.
The flow of movement on the stairs had been steady as they talked, but Bex finally came back to herself as she felt eyes on them.
She glanced up the staircase and was shocked to see Dana in the flesh, in costume and sipping on a bottle of coconut water through a straw.
“Please, don’t stop flirting,” she said. “This is the longest I’ve gone without throwing up in twenty-four hours.” She slurped noisily.
Act 2 moved quickly. With Dana and Assad doing their best to fill in the gaps, there was a sense of solidarity within the cast. There was only an hour left. They could do this.
Finally the scene where Laurey and Curly admitted their feelings and kissed (several times) was next.
Bex clung tightly to C. J. as Laurey told Curly she didn’t want to marry Jud. He was so tall, she had to arch her back to look into his eyes.
C. J.’s gaze sparkled on her, and she knew what she had to do.
When her arms flung around his middle to kiss him, she let her hands grab his ass before quickly “realizing her mistake” and moving them north. C. J. smiled against her mouth and reached back to slip her hands downward again.
And just as the crowd had died laughing eight years ago, they loved it again. Completely improper for the time period, possibly a mistake by the actors, but either way—it was delightful.
It wasn’t until the second kiss that she let herself fall into the feeling of kissing C.
J. again. He lifted a palm to cup her face, tilting her head for him.
His other arm wound around her middle, pressing her firmly against his chest, and she felt her body unwinding deliciously.
Bex pushed herself closer and opened her mouth just so, just enough, just a tease.
C. J. broke the kiss to say his next lines, but when they held each other close again, he let his mouth fall open to hers, teasing her, hinting at things to come. It was just this side of time period inappropriate.
Curly proposed to Laurey. They sang the reprise of their love song. And then Bex ran offstage with C. J. to change into their wedding clothes.
A wedding, a fight to the death, and a joyful song, and the show was done twenty minutes later.
The cast took their bows, and it was the loudest she’d ever heard the crowd go off for any tour stop—and not just for Colby J. Turner. They’d certainly pulled it off. It was possible no one in the audience knew what had been missing from their show.
The revelry didn’t extend very long backstage beyond a few claps on the back. Too many of them were dehydrated and still running to the toilet.
Bex hurried to change out of her costume, sidestepping probing questions from Whitney.
“Talk about chemistry, girl. Wow.” Her brown eyes flew wide to make her point. “I don’t doubt Dr. Wes would have chemistry with a door if he had to, but to work that well together after, like, an hour?”
Bex smiled to herself, keeping her secret for now.
When she left the dressing room and headed down the four flights, C. J. was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. She bit back her smile. Without a word, he handed her his phone, where a new contact had been pulled up, titled:
Bex (maybe Beth?)
She grinned and typed in her number.
“Esther asked if I was available tomorrow.”
Bex looked up at him. “Yeah? Is Charlie still sick?”
“I guess so. I told her I’d be waiting for her call.” He took his phone back from her, and they stared at each other. “Are you drained? Would you want to grab a drink?”
Her cheeks pulled into a grin she couldn’t hold back. “Yeah, I would. But it’ll have to wait.” She gestured to the exit to the street, where there were usually ten to fifteen fans to sign autographs for. “There’s going to be like a hundred people out there for you.”
“I’ve been waiting for eight years to take you for a drink,” he said, eyes on her. “I think I can wait a little longer.”
Bex stared up at him, pulse thundering. She pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed him, soft and unhurried.
When she pulled back, his eyes danced over her face. “What was that for?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Eight years is too long for me. I couldn’t wait.”
He grinned at her, and a blush rose on his cheeks. He took a deep breath. “You know, it’s Valentine’s Day.” He began to lead her out toward the stage door to meet the fans. “And there are those comets, right? Do you wanna get something to-go and find a place to watch them?”
She followed him to the sign-in board, signing out and handing him the pen.
“Let’s do it. You know, there’s a great place called Murray’s around the block,” she said, smiling at herself.
He smirked at her and went to the door. Before he pushed it open to the screams of the fans, he whispered to her, “Do you think they have shrimp tacos? It’s weird. I’ve been craving them all day.”