15. SEVEN YEARS AGO
FIFTEEN
SEVEN YEARS AGO
FALL, SENIOR YEAR
PAIGE
God, there was nothing like it.
Curtain call after a kick-ass opening night.
As soon as we all spilled out from the stage door, the cast was a pile of embraces, I was falling from one set of arms into another—not caring who it was.
That was one of the most visceral experiences I had ever had performing. We were all so in tune with our characters and each other. It really felt like we became that group of people in New York City for a few hours.
It sounded cliché as fuck, but it was true.
It was perfect.
“Girl!” Margaret squealed, pulling me in for a tight hug and I returned it. “An encore on opening night!”
I squealed too. That was fucking amazing. There was a small section of the crowd that erupted after our duet, “Take Me or Leave Me,” chanting “encore!” And like the well-seasoned, badass little actresses we were, we delivered. It was a high like none other.
Suddenly, strong arms circled me from behind, pulling me from Margaret and I twisted immediately.
Ellis.
I screamed, jumping into his arms as a forceful huff pushed past his lips. But he wrapped his arms around me. “Jesus, woman! I’m jet-lagged.”
“Sorry not sorry, you prick!” I hugged him but it was also a punishment squeeze. “I’m chaining you to my porch.”
“Sounds fun. And kinky,” he growled, and I laughed.
Ellis traveled a lot—for as long as I’d known him—so I’d gotten used to missing him. But it felt harder this time for some reason. Probably because he always did the musicals with me. And while opening night fucking rocked, I wish we’d gotten to be on stage together.
“You were amazing, Paige. Just like always,” he said quietly.
“Missed you,” I whispered back, squeezing him tighter.
He put me down, giving a playful swat to my thigh, “Those pants do wonders for your pancake ass.”
I snorted. Despite years of regular dance lessons and my many private mirror-twerks, my butt refused to plump and lift.
“Paige,” I suddenly heard, at the same time Louis pretty much tackled Ellis and I turned to find who was calling me, seeing Mr. Harris.
I smiled, taking a few steps toward him and he said, “That was some good shit.”
Laughing awkwardly, I stuttered,“Th-Thanks.”
“I did a regional production of Rent about five years ago,” he said. “And the girl who played Maureen never did that.” His eyes moved to the stage door, and I smiled.
I hadn’t had Mr. Harris as a teacher yet. I was excited to take his film acting class in the spring. But I knew Linc really liked him so it felt good to know I impressed him.
My eyes scanned around the crowd, looking for the tall kid with a mop of messy dark hair just as I heard, “He’s wrapping up the equipment from the mezzanine.”
I focus back on Mr. Harris in front of me. Did I ask him where Linc was?
The knowing grin on his face told me No, but you’re obviously looking for him, and I felt my cheeks heat.
Jesus Christ.
Mr. Harris chuckled, stepping off as he said, “Great opening, Paige. Enjoy your night.”
I gave him a weird nod, thanking him, before I peeked around again for Linc when I heard another familiar voice, chant-singing, “Over the moon, over the moon . . .”
Gram. Singing part of one of my songs—the one I knew she’d love because in the scene, my character Maureen, was basically holding a protest. There was a cowbell—it was a whole thing.
Gram held out her arms before she actually reached me and basically hugged me the rest of the way to her. “Did you hear me mooin’?!”
I snort. I really did.
As part of Maureen’s protest, I invited the crowd to moo with me—like I said, it was a whole thing.
Ellis rejoined me, and Gram hugged on him too, throwing out similar threats so that he wouldn’t leave us again, then she asked, “You kids partyin’ tonight?”
Ellis shook his head, yawning. “I just wanted to see Paige kill it. I’m still on Denmark time.”
Gram started humming something . . . something I’d heard before but couldn’t place. Ellis smiled and started singing the words.
“ Wonderful Copenhagen. ” I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t know the song. It was probably from some obscure old musical. Ellis would tell you himself that his love of musicals was the first clue he had to his homosexuality. Though, it happened when we were ten and saw the recording of Hugh Jackman playing Curly in Oklahoma! , so I can’t be sure if it was the musical or the beautiful man that caused his awakening. And I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure Hugh Jackman’s attraction is appealing to nearly every orientation.
“Where’s Lincleton?” Gram asked, scooping the long gray waves of her hair, twisting it and tying it up.
I sighed, looking around again. When I still didn’t see him, I shrugged. “Not sure. He was in the mezzanine filming the show for the archives tonight. Mr. Harris said he was cleaning up.”
She nodded. “Well, I’m gonna head home. It’s Friday night and I’ve got a spicy new romance book and a gummy with my name on it.”
Jesus. Note to stay out of the house.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to the party. Ellis was the only reason I ever went to parties and he was too tired—maybe Linc and I could just go hang at the creek. A night hike.
If I can find him.
Back in the dressing room, I wiped the stage makeup off my face. I was so bad at wearing makeup. It was like the second I had it on—a fixation with rubbing my eyes immediately ignited.
The room was empty. Clean. I was pretty sure everyone had already cleared out to go to Louis’s for the party.
But I still hadn’t seen Linc.
Maybe he had to get home for Maisie.
I checked my phone again to see if I had a message from him, but there was nothing. Wet naps coated in makeup rivaled the sight of a small crime scene as they sat in a pile on the counter beside me, and I sighed, which trickled into a small laugh.
My gaze lifted to the mirror. I wasn’t able to get all of the eyeliner off so my blue eyes looked a little darker than usual, sharper. I had curled the blond strands of my hair so it was wild and bouncy.
I looked like me, but not.
Pulling out another wipe, I was just about to scrub at the dark maroon color on my lips, when I suddenly saw familiar, earthy-colored eyes staring back at me in the mirror.
Gasping, our gazes collided and then locked through the reflection.
I was too breathless to even say “hey,” or some sort of quip about how creepy it was that he appeared out of fucking nowhere.
Because that would be a lie.
I’d been looking for him since the show ended, but something felt . . . different right now, as he stared back at me.
“I saw that,” he finally said.
My captured eyes stayed with his, but my eyebrows pinched. I still hadn’t turned around, just watched him through the reflective glass as he leaned against the archway.
He smirked, and the tick of his lips felt like a zap to something deep in my stomach. My legs crossed under the small vanity counter, as I finally said, “Saw what?”
“At the end of Act One,” he said. “When you looked right at me.”
I sure did. But for some reason his shadowy-self was edging something . . . devious in me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I shrugged, allowing my lips to tilt ever so slightly.
Linc stared for a moment longer before he slowly fished through the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone, keeping his eyes on me. He flicked them down to the phone for only half a second before he was holding it up, just in front of him.
“Keep going, Pip,” he said quietly as I heard the light beep of the camera starting to record.
Eyeing the wipe I was still holding in my hand, I stared back at him through the mirror.
What. Is. Happening?
LINC
I wasn’t sure what led me down this path on the road to confronting my feelings for Paige, but here we were.
The steady pounding in my chest shook my limbs, but I worked to steady my hand. All I could do was follow my instincts, and every single one of them was telling me she wanted me watching her.
I liked to watch her. And she let me.
It was the way we’d always been. She showed off, and let me watch.
But this was different. And we both knew it.
I knew I was going to talk to her tonight—about where my head was—or where I thought it was. But when I saw her looking for me in the abyss of the crowd—her blue eyes landing on me like a target while I watched her — I was done for. I knew I would kiss her tonight.
Her face had this soft curiosity. It was similar to the flip I’d see in her expression when she was listening to a new song—a glow-up. Her eyes would light, her plump rosy lips would part, ever-so-slightly, before her best smile emerged.
Only this time, there was no smile.
Surprise still lit the corners of her gaze, but there was also . . . heat. This fiery force that blazed back at me.
And just like that—the beautiful face staring back at me—the yearning want in her eyes became its own expression.
Her lips tilted slightly, and I zoomed in with the camera so that I was only getting her face as she wiped the color away from her mouth. Her movement was careful, measured, trying to avoid smudging the dark color onto her skin.
It was so quiet, and the tension crackled as I stepped farther into the dressing room, closer to her. Her eyes flicked up to me, and I saw her shoulders tighten from behind, tugging at my smirk as I peeked down at the screen.
She sucked her lips into her mouth for just a second before her teeth pinned her bottom lip, and I found myself eagerly awaiting the release.
I zoomed in to just her mouth, as the rosy flesh was finally free, and I felt my own teeth scraping across my lip.
Damn.
As I zoomed back out, the same, charged expression held her features and I propped the phone up on the small counter, flipping the view so that the camera lens was recording toward us.
Paige’s eyes floated down to it for just a second, before they drifted back up —back at me, behind her in the mirror.
I looked for any sign that she was uncomfortable, but all I saw was this gorgeous curiosity. And yet there was a shadow of something darker—something that had my fingers moving lightly, trailing along her shoulder.
A sharp inhale dropped my eyes to her chest, as my own lips pulled up. I basked in the silky feeling of her skin beneath my fingers.
I almost felt like I was in a dream, moments away from waking up.
Fuck, I don’t want to wake up.
Her blue eyes sparkled up at me in the reflection, and I felt her jaw tense as I ran the back of my knuckle over it.
My eyes traced the full outline of her lips, her small delicate nose, landing back on her ocean blue gaze. Leaning down, I pressed my cheek to her temple, keeping my eyes on her in the mirror. “You’re so beautiful, Pip.”
My voice was hoarse—wrecked. I was so fucking nervous, but the adrenaline felt like kerosene on the open flame of my soul.
The smallest noise escaped her, something between a whimper and a sigh and oh my fucking God, her smell. The soft hints of cinnamon were mixing with sweat in the most intoxicating way, and I felt my weight wobble.
I glanced up at her again, checking in, when an idea suddenly came to me. Collecting her curls, I moved the soft blond strands off of her shoulder, before my hand slid to the row of freckles. Swallowing hard, I started to trace letters on the thin skin—still keeping my eyes on her.
T-I-L-L
The blue in her eyes softened, and her mouth pulled into the sweetest smile—nearly bringing me to my knees. But I carried on, fueled by the beautiful girl watching me—barely blinking, barely breathing.
T-H-E, I continued to spell, but I upped the challenge by boldly running my other hand down her shoulder as I spelled out the last word.
E-N-D
Without even a thought, I found myself dropping my lips to the freckles as she inhaled sharply.
“Linc,” she breathlessly whispered on her exhale. The sound twitched my dick against my jeans, as a low, involuntary groan rumbled on my lips against her neck.
Never had I ever heard my name from her lips like fucking that. In an instant, I hauled her off the seat and pulled her up so she was pressed right up against me.
My hand moved to her chin, pinching it between my thumb and my finger, while my other arm hooked around her lower back.
She stared up at me, and her eyes widened when she felt my hardness pressing into her. Our noses were brushing, our breaths mixing. After another couple seconds, I finally told her, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”
Paige moved her hand to mine on her chin and slid it to her cheek. Leaning her face into my palm, she finally asked, “Why didn’t you?”
I brushed my thumb over her cheek. It felt surreal—like a literal dream coming true.
“I wasn’t sure you . . .“ I trailed off, drowning in the depths of her eyes, deep shades of blue surrounded me, just as a small pinch on my thumb snapped me back.
My mouth fucking dropped when I saw Paige’s teeth clamped lightly down, nibbling, on my thumb as her hands held my wrist.
The corners of her lips pulled up, her expression turning mischievous as she released my thumb. “Are you sure now?”
I twisted her so that her back was flush with the wall and leaned into her. She gasped as her hips instinctively swiveled against mine.
Jesus, fuck.
This wasn’t at all how I expected this to go. But to fight it felt as useless as trying to stop lit dynamite. It felt explosive. It felt fucking right.
My grip on her jaw tightened.
One, two, three blinks. One breath.
And my lips crashed against hers. A deep, inhuman noise scraped through my throat but she swallowed the sound before plunging her tongue into my mouth. I stroked it with mine, pulling another moan from deep in my chest as she whimpered around our tangled tongues.
It was ravenous, untamed. So fucking hot— and she was fighting me for dominance—which was . . . unexpected and driving me fucking mad in the best possible way.
Truthfully, I didn’t know what to expect when I finally kissed Paige—but she was matching me, pushing back instead of melting, and I was already addicted to her lips.
“So fucking sweet,” I whispered against her mouth.
She combated that too, by nibbling gently on my bottom lip, but then she did this thing with her tongue—where she’d lightly run it along my lip, over the bite.
I’m a goddamn dead man.
“Fuck,” I grit out and then pressed my lips against hers again.
We kissed.
And kissed.
And fucking kissed .
Our mouths moved until they were numb. I wasn’t sure how long we had been at it, but finally we slowed, pulled apart, both of us panting and clutching each other.
My neck bent down, continuing to press my forehead to hers.
“Wow,” she whispered breathlessly, still close enough that I could taste the words. Taste her.
As much as I wanted to keep kissing her, I had to cool down. This had already gone way further than I was expecting.
I just meant to come down here and see if she wanted to go for a drive so I could finally tell her where my head was—talk some shit out. If it went well—kiss her.
I wasn’t expecting . . . this.
Not that I was complaining—not at all—but . . .
Oh shit.
I twisted back to my phone on the vanity and saw it was still recording us. We were still in shot, just farther away, and I reluctantly let go of her to go stop it, picking it up.
I turned back to Paige, my lips pulling back as I quickly said, “I’ll delete it.”
She still had this dazed look in her eyes, almost like she was settling back—coming down. And I felt it too. It was like the feeling you had after you’d just jumped on a trampoline.
The ground felt different.
I slid my phone in my pocket and took unsteady steps back toward her.
“Hey, was . . .” I trailed off awkwardly. The muscles in my neck bunched and my hand moved to rub it as I said, “Uh—was that . . . okay?”
I knew she kissed me back. It felt okay. It felt fucking incredible, but I was having a hard time getting a read on her.
When she still hadn’t said anything, I said, “Pip?” and she blinked over at me.
Finally, a playful light found her eyes, and she smiled. She closed the distance between us in a few small steps. My chin dropped to meet her eyes just before her mouth ticked up. “How the hell did you learn to kiss like that?”