Showmance

by L.H. Cosway

“And you clearly haven’t. All the more reason for you to go home.”

  Blake laughed deeply, like he was enjoying her prickliness. It got on my nerves. The bastard needed to leave Rose the fuck alone. Remembering that Alicia’s head was resting on my shoulder, but not quite remembering how it had gotten there, my stomach dropped. Rose would’ve clearly had to walk through the living area to get to the kitchen and seen us.

  Fuck, this looked bad.

  Shifting my body slightly, I stretched and slid away from my costar. When I stood from the couch and turned around, Rose was the first thing I saw. She was in the kitchen, wearing a pair of plastic gloves and collecting rubbish in a bin bag. Blake was just a few feet away from her, eyeing me with an indecipherable expression.

  Rose gave me a weak smile. “Morning, sunshine. How’s your head?”

  I rubbed at jaw. “Thumping. Can I use your bathroom?”

  She nodded. “Yes, sure. There are some new toothbrushes under the sink if you’d like to use one.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking at Blake and then back to her.

  As I headed off down the hallway, I heard him complain, “You didn’t offer me a toothbrush.”

  “That’s because we aren’t friends,” Rose replied coldly. “Damon’s my friend.”

  Her chilly response almost made my lips curve in a smile. In the bathroom I held my hands under the tap for a while, feeling grubby, before washing my face and brushing my teeth. I gave myself a sniff and found I didn’t smell too funky, so I thought I’d make do until I could get back to my place. When I emerged, everyone else had woken up. Iggy called good morning to me as Julian suggested we all head out to a nearby café for some breakfast.

  “I haven’t finished cleaning yet,” said Rose as she pulled off her rubber gloves.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll have Pippa come around while we’re out to spruce the place up.”

  “Who’s Pippa?” Farrah enquired.

  “His cleaning lady,” Rose answered with a hint of disapproval. “I try to tell him we don’t need some woman to clean the apartment when we’re perfectly capable of doing it ourselves, but he won’t listen.”

  Julian held out his hands. “These fingers were made for far more important things than scrubbing toilets.”

  Mostly everyone laughed, except for Alicia. She seemed determined to be cold with Julian, and I didn’t really understand why. She didn’t know what he did for a living, at least I thought she didn’t, so it couldn’t be that. Maybe he just rubbed her up the wrong way.

  About twenty minutes later, we all left the apartment to complete the short walk to the café down the street. Along the way, I caught hold of Rose’s elbow. She glanced at me, letting some of the others pass until we were alone.

  “What is it, Damon?” she asked. There was no annoyance or irritability in her voice, so maybe she already knew that my sleeping next to Alicia had been entirely innocent.

  “I can’t remember falling asleep last night. I was drunk,” I said, hoping she got the underlying message. Christ, it felt like I was constantly trying to explain that my feelings toward Alicia were purely platonic – if that. I liked her well enough as a work colleague, but I didn’t see myself staying friends with her after the show closed.

  Rose tugged her coat sleeves down over her wrists. I studied her face, free of makeup, and wondered if any woman had ever seemed so pretty to me.

  “Oh, right. Well, I kind of flaked out on the party early. Sorry about that. After a while I just wasn’t really in the mood anymore, so I hid in my room and went to sleep.”

  This news surprised me. “You slept through all that noise?”

  She gave a slight shrug. “Earplugs are a wonderful invention.”

  I nodded. “Well, just so you know, I didn’t intentionally sleep next to Alicia. I just woke up, and there she was.”

  Rose’s eyes glittered with humour. “It sounds a little creepy when you put it like that.”

  My lips twitched in amusement. “True.”

  She drew closer, putting her hand over her mouth and whispering theatrically, “Oh, my God, what if she roofied you?”

  I think it shocked us both when I barked a loud laugh. “You’re daft.”

  “And you should consider laughing more,” said Rose. “It’s a wonderful sound. Also, I’m not daft, I’m hilarious. Come on, let’s go get some food before we both starve to death.”

  At the café we were seated at a long table. I took the place next to Rose, and Iggy sat on the other side of me. It was a relief, because I really needed to distance myself from Alicia for a while. There were only so many times that Rose was going to let things slide, and I was tired of messing everything up.

  We all put in our orders, and the waiter came around to serve us coffee, tea, and orange juice.

  “Oh, God,” Farrah complained as she pressed her fingers to her temples. “I’m so regretting all those glasses of champagne last night. I’m gonna be feeling this hangover for days.”

  Julian chuckled, and she stabbed a finger at him. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, pretty boy. Just you wait until you hit forty. You’ll be as bad as me. I’m really not looking forward to getting up for this eight o’clock meeting I have tomorrow.”

  Julian eyed her pointedly. “You need to take a leaf out of my book and quit the demon drink. Also, being your own boss helps. That way if you’re hung over, you can simply take the morning off.”

  “What is it that you do anyway?” Alicia cut in with an arched brow.

  Julian smiled at her widely from across the table. “I’m a freelance children’s entertainer,” he lied. “You know, for parties and such.”

  Alicia let out a disdainful chuckle. “What, like a clown?”

  “Yes,” said Julian, running his thumb over his bottom lip. “Exactly like a clown. Quite similar to being an actor, I imagine.”

  “Easy there, Jules,” said Iggy. “Half the people at this table are actors. You don’t want to go down that road.”

  “No, I want to hear what he has to say,” Alicia interjected. “What’s so clown-like about being an actor? And I know you’re lying about that being your job, by the way.”

  “How shrewd of you,” Julian answered.

  Alicia stood firm. “You still haven’t explained yourself.”

  “Well, isn’t it obvious? An actor performs to entertain people, sometimes even humiliating themselves, just like a clown.”

  Alicia slammed her hand on the table, all the humour gone from her features. “I’m not a clown.”

  “I didn’t say you were. I said you were like one.”

  “It’s the same difference. My God, has anyone ever told you how rude and disrespectful you are sometimes?” Her voice grew shrill as she picked up her napkin to dab at her mouth. “Some manners would go a long way, you know.” Once she’d finished speaking, she stood from the table, glancing around at the rest of us. “I’m sorry, everybody, but I think I’m going to leave now.”

  When I looked at Julian, he appeared momentarily regretful for what he’d said. Then he plastered on a devil-may-care expression, while Alicia said her goodbyes, put on her coat, and walked out onto the street to flag down a taxi.

  Rose frowned at her friend. “Julian, that was a bit much.”

  “What? She brings it out of me.”

  “You should go after her, Damon,” Blake suggested out of nowhere. I glanced at him. “You two did spend most of the night wrapped around each other on the couch, after all. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

  Was he fucking shitting me? Now I glowered, knowing exactly the game he was playing. Rose seemed to stiffen beside me. Blake was lucky I was averse to violence, because right then I might’ve punched him.

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I answered coldly before Julian stood and interrupted.

  “No, I’ll go after her. This is my fault.”

  He left, and through the window I could see that she was still standing by the side of the road, wai
ting for a taxi to stop for her. Julian emerged, and she said something to him that didn’t look very kind. We all watched the silent conversation unfold. Julian was clearly trying to apologise, while Alicia threw some obviously barbed comments back at him.

  “Love-hate is the best kind of love,” Iggy sighed into his coffee cup. “All that passion. I’m a little jealous.”

  “What about love-love?” Rose spoke up. “Isn’t that better? I don’t get why people should have to half hate one another just for a relationship to be passionate. It seems a little dysfunctional, if you ask me.”

  “It is dysfunctional, but that’s what makes it so exhilarating,” said Iggy.

  “Is that what you feel towards me these days, Rose, love-hate?” Blake enquired.

  “Minus the love and you’re right on the money,” she threw back cuttingly.

  Blake pouted at her in a way I was sure he thought was attractive. Then again, I wasn’t exactly his target audience. “That’s harsh.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “I agree with Rose,” I said, coming to her defence. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with two people being together based on attraction and mutual respect.”

  “Yes, I get that there’s nothing wrong with it,” said Iggy. “But who’d want all that lovey-dovey stuff when you could be having passionate fights and mind-blowing make-up sex?”

  “Sane people who aren’t deranged,” Rose answered, lifting her orange juice and taking a sip.

  “And those who are confident enough in their bedroom skills that they don’t need to rely on emotional trauma to create desire,” I added quietly before realising I’d spoken so candidly. It suddenly felt like all eyes were on me, and I wished I hadn’t spoken at all.

  Iggy grinned and clasped his hands around his mug. “Okay, now I’m interested. Perhaps a non-dysfunctional relationship can have its advantages.”

  “Especially if it involves a tall, dark, and handsome Oscar winner with the dreamiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen,” said Farrah, shooting me a wink.

  I shifted uncomfortably and looked away, a little embarrassed. Rose was quiet beside me, and I wondered if she agreed with Farrah’s summation. She glanced up at me from beneath her lashes for a second, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. We were locked in a moment, and I had this urge to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. Instead, I curled my fingers into a fist to keep my hands to myself.

  When I looked out the window again, it seemed Julian had managed to calm Alicia down a little. They were still talking back and forth, but with fewer hand gestures than before. A taxi finally pulled up, and Alicia climbed inside. Julian returned to the café, not saying a word as he reclaimed his seat. He pressed his hand to his mug as though to check the temperature, then let out an irritated sigh. “Great, now my coffee’s gone cold.”

  Rose shot him a look. “Serves you right.”

  “Yeah,” Blake added, siding with Rose. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to respect women?”

  “Oh, up yours, Manwhore McGee,” Julian threw back with casual bluntness.

  It took everything in me not to spit the mouthful of tea I’d just drunk out all over the table.

  Fourteen.

  *Rose*

  His lips had been so warm and intent, and I’d adored the way he’d ever so gently tugged on my hair, causing prickles of desire to trickle all the way down my spine.

  My daydreams of the kiss I shared with Damon on Saturday night were taking over my Monday morning thoughts. We’d been practicing the dance routine for “Rhythm of the Night” when Jacob called for a fifteen-minute tea break. I took the opportunity to grab a coffee and listen to a few minutes of Outlander. It was getting closer to the sex scene, I could tell. Amid uncontrollable circumstances, Jamie and Claire had been married, and we all knew what happened on the wedding night. Winkety-wink. Perhaps during lunch I could cloister myself away somewhere to listen in private.

  Shut up, I wasn’t a perv.

  “Hi, Rosie,” I heard someone say, and pulled out my earphones to see Blake standing over me, a friendly smile on his face.

  “Hello.”

  He toed the edge of my dance shoe. “You look pretty today.”

  “Thank you,” I answered stiffly.

  I was still trying to get my head around everything he’d told me during Julian’s birthday party. If he was truly working to get over an addiction, then I didn’t want to be mean to him. In fact, I was all for him cleaning up his life. But the fact still remained that he’d carelessly brushed me off like a troublesome piece of lint. So yes, I’d be cordial towards him, but I wasn’t going to start reigniting our friendship, sharing tea and chats during rehearsal breaks like before.

  Jacob called for Blake’s attention, and I was glad for the reprieve. On the other side of the studio, I saw Damon standing with Eddie. His eyes were on me, and he cast me a questioning look. I returned it with a tiny shrug and watched as he pulled out his phone and began tapping on the screen. A second later a message popped up on mine.

  Damon: Are you okay?

  Rose: Yes :-)

  Damon: Can we share lunch today?

  Rose: Sure.

  I shoved my phone back in my pocket and stood up to stretch, still feeling Damon’s attention. It did strange things to me, and all of a sudden I felt giddy, my insides aflutter. We had another hour of practice before lunch, and I was suddenly looking forward to it far more than usual.

  Unfortunately, Iggy was in a terror of a mood, and we suffered a gruelling hour because of it. It wasn’t really his fault, though, and I could understand why he was feeling irritable. It seemed like everybody was off their game today, their moves sloppy and uncoordinated. I tried not to feel guilty for the fact that it might’ve been down to some of them being in attendance at Julian’s party on Saturday night.

  The moment he called for lunch, Iggy pulled me aside, letting free all of his frustrations over the mess our dancers were in. I did my best to console him, and amid all this, I completely forgot I’d agreed to meet Damon for lunch. When I finally managed to calm Iggy down, all I wanted to do was find a quiet spot, eat my sandwich, and try to de-stress from the nightmare we’d just endured.

  In one of the small practice rooms, I found a chair, sat down, shoved my earphones in, and dug into my lunch. A couple of minutes later the door opened, and I glanced up to see Damon step inside. I hit “pause” on the audiobook and shot him a look of apology.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot I was supposed to meet you. Iggy chewed my ear out over all the mistakes everybody was making during rehearsals, and I’ve just been so frazzled.”

  Damon waved away my apology. “No worries. Can I sit? It’s okay if you’d rather be alone.” He held a packed sandwich in his hand, alongside an apple and a bottle of energy drink.

  “No, not at all,” I said, patting the seat beside me as I wound up my earphones to put them away. Damon eyed them.

  “Are you listening to Outlander?”

  I nodded.

  “You don’t have to stop. I’ve actually been curious to see what Jamie and Claire have been up to,” he admitted.

  My heart skipped a beat as I remembered what part of the book I was on. The sex hadn’t started yet, but I could tell it was about to. No way could I sit here listening to a sex scene while I ate lunch with Damon.

  “Oh, no, it’s all right,” I said, but he reached out to take the earphones from me anyway, unwinding them with his long fingers.

  “I want to listen with you,” he said, somewhat gruffly.

  I couldn’t speak as he gently placed the bud in my ear before putting the other in his. I didn’t do anything for a second and then realised he was waiting for me to hit “play.” Oh, God, this was actually happening. Somehow I didn’t quite have it in me to say, I’m sorry, but I’d rather listen to this part on my own.

  So, with no more time left to dawdle, I moved my finger over the screen. The narrator’s posh ac
cent came on, reciting the last few lines of one chapter before announcing the title to the next: Revelations of the Bed Chamber.

  Damon stiffened for a second before his dark eyes fell on me. I glanced at him, tried not to blush, and took a too-large bite out of my sandwich. It got lodged in my throat, and I had to work hard to swallow it down. I could tell Damon probably wanted to abandon ship, but he’d made such a fuss about listening that he couldn’t really back out now.

  We both ate in quiet for a while, just listening, but the entire time I was overly aware of Damon’s presence. His breathing seemed heavy and tense, and I listened as he inhaled and exhaled. After a few more minutes, I closed my eyes, falling into the story and at the same time wishing Damon could touch me the same way Jamie was touching Claire.

  He took her hands into his, smoothing his fingers over her palms.

  I wanted Damon to smooth his fingers over mine.

  They talked about their past experiences, like soon-to-be-lovers do.

  I wanted to talk to Damon about my past, tell him everything and hear every word he had to say about his own.

  When the characters started to kiss and touch, their need palpable, I felt Damon’s eyes on me again. I didn’t even have to look. The heat radiating off him was almost too much to bear. My cheeks grew flushed and I shifted in place, squeezing my thighs together to dull the ache being this close to him created. If I were alone, I knew I wouldn’t be aroused like this — it was the words, the picture they were painting, combined with his presence, that had me teetering on a knife’s edge, wishing for the courage to simply grab him and press my mouth to his.

  Blessedly, the scene didn’t go on for too long, and I was glad. I wasn’t sure how much more I could listen to without spontaneously combusting. Warmth met my skin then, and I looked down to see Damon take my hand into his. I glanced up into his soulful brown eyes and saw a world of want and need there. To my dismay, he didn’t do anything but press his fingers into the cushion of my palm, drawing lines up and down that made my spine tingle.

  I inhaled a sharp breath when his thumb brushed over the inside of my wrist, his gaze flaring at my reaction. You’d swear he just shoved his fingers inside my underwear instead of simply touching my wrist. My mouth fell open as he studied me, a question in his expression.