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To the Moon and Back

Page 12

by Melissa Brayden


  “Did you sleep well?” Carly asked.

  Just the mention had Lauren remembering the desperate state she woke in, and the very detailed dream of Carly doing decadent things to her in the rehearsal hall. “I did okay,” she said conservatively. “Wild dreams.”

  “About me?” Carly joked.

  Lauren’s mouth went dry. “Oh. Um, rehearsal.”

  “Gotcha. One of those dreams where something goes wrong, or you don’t know your lines. The worst. I had them when we first started rehearsal, nearly every night.”

  “No, it was…” She didn’t know why she’d even started the sentence, and now she didn’t know how to end it. “Different than that. I love this song.” She tried to move them off the topic by feigning intense interest in the radio. In fact, she turned up the volume and jammed out to it like an idiot.

  Carly looked over at her curiously as she applied her turn signal. “Why are you being weird? Are you Mick Jagger all of a sudden? What kind of moves are those?”

  “This is how I dance in the car.” Well, hell, she had to commit now. She tossed her arms around, threw them over her head, and pushed her lips out, trying to stay on beat, which, hello, was not easy for her.

  “You’ve got duckface down. Wow. That’s impressive. Do it some more. Yes! Just like that, you sexy party animal.” Carly brought the car to a stop at a traffic light and relaxed. She turned to Lauren calmly. “So do you want to talk about this sex dream, or pretend you always flail around in the middle of the morning to music you don’t actually love?”

  Lauren blinked and slowed her dance break. “Wasn’t a big deal. Have you tried that chicken place right there? It’s amazing. Get the extra green sauce. I want to say it’s tomatillo. Watch out for the slight kick, though.”

  “Oh my God. You did have a sex dream, you little minx.”

  Lauren’s jaw dropped. “You acted like you already knew. You didn’t know?”

  “Of course I didn’t know. How could I know?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Neither did I! I wondered, but then you fell completely for my trap, and it’s one of the most gratifying things that’s ever happened to me.” They pulled into The McAllister. “I’m crazy impressed with myself right now. I feel like I might be beaming.” She pulled off her sunglasses and checked herself out in the rearview mirror, dimples on full display. “I totally am.”

  Lauren scoffed, doing her best to downplay. “Like I said, it wasn’t even that big a deal. We should just focus on our day. I finally have my act one lines down.”

  “Not a big deal? Really?” Carly turned off the ignition and regarded her. “I thought we’d be, you know, good at it.”

  God, cue the unasked-for blush once again. She felt the heat spread over her face. Lauren hated how suggestible she was in Carly’s presence. “I didn’t say we weren’t good at it.” She looked Carly square in the eye when she said it, having bundled her courage. It felt good.

  Carly’s lips parted, and she blinked. Her tongue touched her top lip and Lauren felt it. “It was a good dream then,” she said quietly.

  Lauren nodded.

  The upbeat music still played from the car’s stereo, and for several long moments that remained the only sound. Finally, much to her own surprise, Lauren was the first one to speak. The spark between them was undeniable. She knew it. Carly seemed to know it. While they still worked together, it was in a different, less regimented capacity. What was Lauren waiting for? “Maybe we could have dinner sometime. Only if that’s something you’d be interested in. You can say no.” She felt like a vulnerable and awkward teenager, asking the cool girl out.

  “You’re asking me on a date.” Carly said it more like a victorious statement than anything else. Lauren held off exhaling for a moment until they were through this part. “What about right now?”

  “Right now? What? No, we have rehearsal.” She gestured to the theater.

  “They can’t get too far without us. Let’s play hooky and go to breakfast. We can find a place with champagne and eggs Benedict.”

  “You’re crazy.” Lauren laughed. “Absolutely not.” She pursed her lips. “What about tomorrow night?” She was on some sort of adrenaline high now, and it apparently supplied courage.

  Carly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Lauren took in the smooth column of her neck. She had flawless skin, perfect for a cinematic close-up. Lauren wanted to run one finger down that neck, to her collarbone, down the center of her chest to the round—

  “I’m free tomorrow night. You pick a place. I’ll drive.” Lauren gave her head a tiny shake to wake herself from the fantasy. Carly quirked an eyebrow and glanced down at her chest. She wore an open collared Henley, and yes, there was a hint of cleavage. “Please tell me you were checking me out.”

  Lauren sipped her latte in a very obvious, playful manner. “Fine,” she confessed. “I was, a little.”

  “Am I going to be objectified at work today?” Lauren exited the car with a smile, as Carly called after her. “Do I need to report you to my stage manager? Is there a union rep to call?”

  “Maybe.” She shut the door to punctuate her point just as Carly’s laugh escaped. Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an invigorating morning. She felt alive and ready for all that lay ahead.

  As they walked from the parking lot to the theater, the sizzle between them was almost palpable. Lauren felt like she could reach out and touch it. Carly looked back at her with a sly smile. Yep. They were on the exact same page. She didn’t know what this was—a flirtation, a fling, or something legitimate. What she did know was her life sparked into color every time Carly Daniel was around, and she was really looking forward to the rest of their day together. Honestly? That’s all she needed to know.

  “Lauren?” Carly said, pausing in front of the door to the rehearsal hall.

  “Yes?”

  “Just so you know, I plan to objectify you right back.”

  * * *

  Carly couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out of her way to pursue a woman. She’d have to study a calendar, but it had definitely been before she’d become a recognizable name in entertainment. Generally, women wooed her. They chased her. They sent her gifts and made huge overtures to win her attention. Sometimes, she let them. Other times, she said thank you, but passed. Just part of the hookup game in Hollywood.

  Lauren Prescott was different.

  She didn’t care who Carly was. She paid no attention to Carly’s status in Hollywood, and she certainly wasn’t easily impressed. Not only that, but Carly couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was she wanted from Lauren. Yes, she was attracted to her and daydreamed about kissing her languidly in a variety of settings. But she also wanted to talk to her nonstop, make her laugh, figure out what made her tick, make her a plate of fluffy pancakes, and then kiss her face off some more. What did that mean, exactly? She didn’t recognize herself lately. This was new territory for Carly, but she was up to the task of wooing.

  “I can woo,” she said out loud, inside the apartment that, after weeks, was beginning to feel like hers. Over the next half hour, she tried on seven different outfits, none of which felt worthy of her date that night with Lauren. Failures, all of them. Unsure what to do and close to downshifting entirely, she lay on her back in the middle of her bedroom and called the one person who could help.

  “Hey, Car, what’s up?”

  She closed her eyes and smiled at Fallon’s voice. They talked every other day or so, but she’d yet to confide in Fallon about Lauren and her swirling, confusing feelings. “I have a date and need help because I’m a train wreck and look stupid in everything I try on. Do you have time? It’s okay if you don’t. I can just cry in a corner and hope someone finds me later.”

  She heard Fallon chuckle. “Your timing is perfect. Just left the office at Sony. There was a birthday, so cake and spiked punch abounded.”

  Carly laughed. “Your favorite combo.”

&n
bsp; “So, you’re a stupid train wreck. Who is this date with?”

  “My stage manager, who is now my costar.”

  “Wait, the super strict one who lectures you?”

  “That’s the one. She’s in the show now, which is a whole separate story. Her name is Lauren and she has semi-long dark hair and amazing green eyes with these tiny flecks of gold, and she sometimes keeps me up at night thinking about her. That’s a lie. Lots of times. Is this normal? It doesn’t feel normal.”

  “Wow, Carly-bear. Do you have a crush? A real one?”

  “Yes,” she said, drawing out the word, and throwing her arm above her head. She knew she was bringing the drama, but just hearing Fallon’s voice allowed her to let all her feelings come tumbling out. Fallon was her safe place to fall. “She makes me smile, and she gets me hot.”

  “Those are two important things.”

  “She’s also smart, and kind, and flirts in these subtle little ways. There’s more, but I should leave in twenty. She doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

  A long pause on the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry. You’re showing up places on time? I thought you said this was Carly earlier, but clearly I misheard.”

  Carly sat up and spoke animatedly to her wall, pointing at it. “Very funny. But yes, she’s had that kind of effect on me. It’s wild, and I like it.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Whoa is exactly it. Double whoa. Hold the pickle whoa. Thank you for getting that. So I need advice.” She scanned the room, wondering if she should maybe jot a Lauren to-do list. This was all so beyond her experience level.

  “Hit me,” Fallon said. “I’m ready.”

  “First of all, what do I wear?”

  “Well, do you still have a tan?”

  She checked out her arms. “It’s fading, but yes.”

  “Anything to accentuate it. Light colors. Whites, beiges, pastels.”

  A burst of energy hit. She had an idea. “A yellow chiffon blouse with a slight ruffle in the cuff, light wash jeans, and my beige block heels?”

  “Now we’re talking. Where are you two going?”

  “To dinner. I plan to pay, and open doors, and be genuine and charming.”

  Fallon chuckled. “You’re always charming. You don’t even have to try at that part. People love you, Car. That’s never been your problem.”

  “What is my problem? I should probably know.”

  “Really? Right now?” Carly heard a car door open and close. Sounds of Taylor Swift drifted on to the call. “I’m not sure this is the best time to go into—”

  “Yes, really. Put me on speaker and let me drive home with you while you tell me all the things I need to work on. What’s my biggest problem? I can take it.”

  She heard Fallon sigh. “Fine. It’s consideration. You tend to think about the effect your actions will have on other people only after the fact.”

  “Go on.” Carly tapped one nail against her top lip nervously as she listened.

  “You take what you want first and let the chips fall where they may. Oftentimes, it’s other people picking up those chips after you.”

  Carly sobered. Lately, she’d been trying hard to listen in the midst of harder conversations and truly internalize what she heard coming her way. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard the sentiment Fallon described. It wasn’t even the first time from Fallon. Yet she was at a point in her life when she truly wanted to do better, behave better, and think of others first. Not because her career was in trouble, but because something in her was changing. She wanted to be a better person.

  She nodded. “You’re right. I’m going to work on that. And Fallon?”

  “Yep.”

  “If I’ve ever taken advantage of our friendship, your kindness, and I have a feeling I have…Well, I’m really sorry.”

  The line went quiet for a moment. “I appreciate you saying so. You’re a good egg, Carly. I’ve always known that part.”

  Carly smiled at the wall. “Not as good as you, but I’m going to work harder. Thanks for the chat.”

  “Anytime. Call me tomorrow with all the noteworthy details, and don’t you dare leave out the sexy parts.”

  “Try and stop me.”

  Carly clicked off the call and felt her heart rate slow. Fallon had pointed her in the right direction, helped her come up with the perfect outfit, and had been a friend to her when she needed it. She smiled and took a deep breath. Tonight felt important, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t also be fun. She’d been looking forward to their date since the very moment Lauren had asked her out.

  Now all she had to do was put on her chosen outfit and go and pick up her date.

  Chapter Eight

  Rocky looked up at Lauren and snuffled as she took a final glimpse at herself in the mirror, happy with her look. She’d left her hair down, liking the way it fell across her forehead today. Rocky snuffled some more and lifted his feet. She grinned. He was a big time snuffler, always using the sound to express his emotions, which were varied and complex. “You got something to say?” she asked. “I put your dinner down already.” She returned her focus to the mirror and ran a finger along her bottom lip to apply a little more gloss. Snuffling. “You don’t want your dinner?” She glanced down at him.

  He picked up his feet, set them down, and snuffled some more in response. Aha. The shuffle-snuffle combo. He likely knew she was going somewhere and demanded to know who with. Rocky IV had always been her protector, defender, and right-hand man. She scooped up the pudgy little guy, carried him with her to the kitchen, and plopped him in front of his full dish to see if he’d get back to regularly scheduled programming. He glanced up at her, snuffled, but obliged, shaking his little curlicue of a tail as he ate.

  When the doorbell rang, he trotted dutifully behind her to scope out the new guest. Lauren opened the door, prepared to apologize for Rocky’s likely bark, only to have the words stolen from her lips. Carly stood there in a yellow top that had her glowing and a sexy pair of heels. Her hair was half up and half down, and came with lazy waves, the kind they had on TV but Lauren could never seem to master when she tried. “Sorry.”

  Carly grinned. “Why are you sorry? And hi.”

  “Hi.” She swallowed and found herself again. “You look so beautiful. Sorry, again.” She shook her head to emphasize how silly she felt. “I wasn’t expecting to lose my ability to communicate.”

  “That’s okay,” Carly said and chewed on the inside of her lip. “Thank you. I was about to say the same to you. Oh, and I got you these.” From behind her back, Carly produced a bouquet of flowers in a variety of oranges, yellows, and purples. They were gorgeous, and the perfect fall arrangement.

  “Wow.” She accepted the flowers and marveled at their beauty. She didn’t receive flowers too often. They made Lauren feel special, knowing that Carly had gone out of her way for her. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.” Lauren took Carly’s hand and tugged her inside. “And I’m on time,” Carly said triumphantly as she passed.

  Lauren smiled to herself. “I noticed that.” She followed behind Carly, taking in how she wore those jeans as if they were tailored to her perfect body. “Among other things,” she murmured quietly.

  “What other things?” Carly asked, turning around.

  Caught! Lauren hadn’t meant to be overheard. “Oh. I just meant that I’d noticed how thoughtful you were to bring flowers.”

  Carly stood a little taller, as if she’d won the spelling bee. It was adorable. She was. “It’s what you do on a first date.”

  Rocky, seeing their new guest, lifted his feet and wagged his whole stubby body in Carly’s direction. Lauren gaped because he usually took a moment to warm up to people, but then it was Carly, after all, and she’d never had trouble making friends. “This is my dog, Rocky IV. He wants to sniff you all over and then make snuffling demands of your time.”

  Carly plopped right on the floor and held out a gentle hand to him. “Hey th
ere, buddy. You are a little man with a plan, aren’t you? I like your little scrunched face.” Rocky sniffed the outstretched hand several times for good measure and then crawled into Carly’s lap. Lauren shook her head. This dog was no fool.

  “Are we friends now?” Carly asked Rocky. His back leg started to kick like a drumstick when Carly found his favorite spot, the one right underneath his collar.

  “Should I give you guys some privacy?” Lauren asked.

  “No way.” Carly kissed the side of Rocky’s face, which warmed Lauren’s heart, and stood right up. “While Rocky IV is cute, my date is cuter.” She paused. “Was that a dumb thing to say? You make me nervous. Well, dating you does.”

  Lauren played that sentence back because she had a hard time believing it. Carly came off as the most self-assured human, comfortable in her own skin and proud of it. “No, you’re not.”

  Carly nodded, and her smile dimmed, showcasing a glimpse of vulnerability. “It’s true. You’re…different than the women I generally go out with.” Carly held out a hand. “In a good way. That’s why I have the nervous thing. Am I talking too much?” Carly took a deep breath.

  Wow. She was serious about the nerves and seemed actually off-kilter. “Not at all,” Lauren said, finding her own confidence now that she understood she wasn’t alone. “It’s just dinner. We can get away from the theater and just hang out. Shoot the breeze. Count white guys with blue ties.”

  “Are there a lot of those?”

  “Too many.”

  Carly nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “Me, too.” A pause. “Shall we?”

  “After you.”

  Lauren gave Rocky a good-bye series of scratches and led the way out. Carly, to her surprise, hurried past and opened the door in grandiose fashion. Okay, Carly was bringing the full charm, which resonated with Lauren. She felt significant and cared for and was so into Carly in this outfit that every inch of her screamed for contact. Relax, she commanded every last nerve ending. She had a date to enjoy.

 

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