Reckless Romance

by Maggie Riley

  “I want to hear about the honeymoon,” I said, trying to redirect the conversation again.

  Thankfully, Allie seemed to take the hint and spent the next ten minutes regaling us with tales of Costa Rica and secluded beaches and lazy mornings.

  “It sounds wonderful,” I sighed.

  “It sounds boring,” said Joanna. “Weren’t you bored? Did you at least have wifi?”

  “We had wifi, Joanna,” Allie said patiently. “And trust me, I was not bored. Do I look like I was bored?”

  “No,” Joanna sighed, peering at Allie. “You look like you had sex the entire time.”

  “You would be correct,” Allie beamed. “Exceptionally wonderful married sex.”

  “I don’t need sex,” said Joanna. “I have the theatre.”

  “Me too,” I piped up, but Joanna shot me a deadly look.

  “I hate both of you,” she said. “Now, let’s talk about the show.”

  We spent the morning going over the cast list and talking about new business, such as our hiring of Liz to be my assistant director. Allie was obviously thrilled that her best friend and former college roommate was going to be joining our team. But she didn’t seem to know any more about why Liz was no longer acting.

  “So, we start rehearsal this afternoon,” I said, looking down at our notes. “And I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with the shorter than usual schedule.”

  “I already have several crew members from the last show interested in working on this one,” Allie told us. “I should have a full crew by the end of the month—just in time to start building the set and hanging lights. I’ll work on a tech schedule tonight and should have something for you both by tomorrow. At least something we can start with.”

  “Sounds good.” Joanna checked her calendar. “I want to start running ads two weeks before previews, but the goal is to get some free press before that—interviews or articles—and I’m going to start calling people as soon as we can get some publicity photos. We want to get a buzz going. Keep people interested in the theatre.”

  As we were finishing up, I heard some footsteps outside in the lobby. Allie heard them as well and called out.

  “We’re in the main theatre,” she said, before turning to us. “I have a lunch date.”

  I turned towards the entrance, fully expecting to see Shane. Instead, Josh walked in.

  My stomach erupted in butterflies, my pulse racing and my palms going damp. He was wearing a baseball cap and a worn green shirt with a snug pair of jeans, but my eyes went immediately to his mouth. His mouth, which had been between my legs less than twenty-four hours before. His mouth, which was now lifted in a sexy half smile.

  “Ladies,” he said, his voice low and husky. He addressed all of us, but his eyes were on me. My body hummed.

  “Hi,” he said, just to me.

  “Hi,” I barely managed, my voice a croak.

  “Josh,” said Joanna, her voice dry.

  I didn’t look at her, because I knew that if I did, she would know immediately where my orgasm had come from. If she didn’t already. She had super-powers. She probably knew. But I didn’t want her to say anything. Especially not in front of Allie, who was giving her brother a big hug.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” she said before pulling back and giving him a look not unlike the one she had given me. “You look really good. Almost happy—” she trailed off and glanced back over her shoulder at me.

  I saw the moment she made the connection. Her eyes went wide and I was sure my face was completely red.

  “I’m going to go,” I said, grabbing my things. “I’ll see you guys this afternoon,” I somehow managed to say before making a beeline for the door.

  JOSH

  Allie didn’t say anything until we were outside. Then she reached over and smacked me in the back of my head, nearly knocking my baseball cap off. I should have seen it coming, but then, I was still distracted by how adorable Reagan had been in the theatre, her brown eyes wide behind her glasses, her cheeks highlighted with slashes of red before she booked it out of there like a deer fleeing a predator.

  “Ouch.” I rubbed the spot where Allie had made contact.

  “Are you kidding me?” She put her hands on her hips and glared up at me. I had a good foot on my sister, but she still managed to scare the hell out of me when she was angry.

  “What is your problem?” I demanded.

  “You slept with Reagan?” she narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

  “I didn’t sleep with Reagan,” I told her, not even wanting to know how she had figured it out so quickly. Was I that transparent? “Not that my sex life is any of your business.”

  Allie looked pissed. “You’re going to tell me I imagined whatever happened between the two of you back there?”

  Dammit. Yeah, I suppose I might have been a little obvious with openly staring at Reagan. And Reagan was fairly easy to read.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied.

  “Reagan comes to work looking all—” she seemed to search for the word. “Satisfied. And then you come strolling in with that cat-got-the-canary look on your face and she gets bright red.” Allie poked her finger into my chest. “I’m not blind, Josh.”

  “She looked satisfied?” I asked, unable to resist.

  Allie threw up her hands. “You are unbelievable.”

  “Me?” I crossed my arms. “I’m not the one getting involved in your sex life. In case you haven’t realized, I’m an adult. And Reagan is too.”

  Allie just gaped at me for a moment.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” she said and this time she didn’t look angry, she looked disappointed. And that hurt a whole hell of a lot more.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I pointed out. “Or anyone, just to be clear.”

  “You didn’t sleep with Reagan?” she asked.

  “I didn’t.” I chose not to mention that I hoped to rectify that situation as soon as possible.

  But Allie seemed to practically sag with relief. “That’s good,” she said.

  “Why?” I felt a surge of anger. “Why is it good that I haven’t slept with her? I thought you wanted me to be happy. To get back to the way I was before this whole shitty life upheaval thing.”

  “I do,” Allie put her hand on my arm. “I want you to be happy. And I want you to be the way that you were.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is the way you were before when it came to women,” Allie reminded me. “And if you’re going back to that, I don’t really want my friend to be your first victim.”

  “Victim?” I was really annoyed. “I don’t think any of the women I’ve been with would have described themselves as victims.” I was the one glaring at her now. “Besides, you are the one who practically threw Reagan at me. You think I didn’t notice how you kept pairing us up together?”

  “Because I thought she’d be a good influence on you!” Allie said.

  “Well, she is,” I retorted.

  “How good of an influence?”

  “It’s really not any of your business,” I told her.

  “She’s my friend, Josh.” Allie put her finger in my face. “And if you hurt her—”

  I grabbed her hand. “Why would I hurt her?”

  “Because Reagan isn’t one of your ball bunnies,” Allie said, her voice firm. “She’s not someone you sleep with and forget about. She’s not a one-night stand.”

  “I know that.” I was gritting my teeth. Clearly my sister had a pretty negative idea of how I was with women. If she thought I would just sleep with Reagan and then forget about her, well, she was damn wrong.

  “Really?” she asked. “Because, you aren’t known for being interested in anything long term with the women you see.”

  “Maybe I’ve changed,” I challenged.

  “I hope so,” said Allie, looking a little sad. “Because I love you, but if you hurt my friend, I’m going to be really, really mad at you.
”

  We still went furniture shopping after that, but things were subdued. On both our parts. Because I couldn’t stop rewinding our conversation in my head. Couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that maybe Allie was right. That maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  Because I hadn’t really done a long-term thing with a woman in a really, really long time. Maybe I wasn’t even capable of it. And Reagan deserved a whole hell of a lot more than some washed up minor league pitcher who didn’t even know how to date, let alone be in a relationship. Who didn’t know how to do anything seriously. She didn’t deserve to be my emotional guinea pig while I tried to find myself or whatever shit I was knee deep in.

  So by the time I dropped Allie back off at the theatre, I was pretty sure that whatever I felt for Reagan needed to be put aside. For her benefit. Because if I really wanted to change, if I really wanted to be better than the person I was before, I had to stop being selfish. Had to stop thinking of myself and my needs—my emotional needs—before hers.

  “I’ll leave her alone,” I told Allie after hugging her goodbye. “I won’t be a problem.”

  “It’s for the best,” she said. “You guys are too different.”

  “Yeah.” I wished that she was wrong. I wanted her to be wrong. But I knew the right thing to do was to walk away.

  Chapter 22

  REAGAN

  I didn’t know what to say to Allie when we all came back for lunch. Part of me was hoping that Josh would be with her, that he would pull me aside, let me know how much Allie knew. But she came back by herself. Looking significantly more sober than she had when she left.

  But she didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. The actors arrived for rehearsal and that was where my attention was needed.

  It was a great cast. Liz’s help had been priceless and I was grateful to have her at my side as we went through our first read through with everyone. The actor we had cast as Bottom had everyone practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

  After the read through, Allie and Joanna retreated to the office to go over the more technical details of the show, while Liz and I did some acting exercises with the cast to get them comfortable around each other.

  I walked around the room, watching while pairs of actors played the “yes” game, where they had to agree to whatever imagined situation their partner was creating, teaching them to be quick on their feet and work on identifying with unfamiliar characters.

  “Sugar,” Liz said to me, her southern accent like honey. “You picked one hell of a cast.”

  “We picked one hell of a cast,” I told her. “In fact, I owe most of the casting choices to your excellent commentary at the auditions.”

  She ducked her head, brushing off the compliment.

  “I’m happy to help,” she said before looking around the room. “Looks like we’re having some attention problems,” she pointed out.

  And she was right—my cast had stopped playing the “yes” game and seemed to be chatting each other up. I didn’t mind people getting to know each other, but I knew that we were on a tight schedule. And there was a much faster way to inspire solidarity and community.

  “Ok guys,” I told them. “I think it’s time we run through the play once more. In our underwear.”

  Nearly naked activities always bonded people together in my experience. And actors loved to take their clothes off.

  Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I kept checking my phone, waiting for a text from Josh. Waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of what had happened that afternoon. Waiting for something.

  I was checking it again after our rehearsal ended and everyone put their clothes back on. I was feeling disappointed and frustrated that I hadn’t heard from him when Allie entered the theatre and came over to me.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice soft. Quiet. Gentle.

  Oh no.

  “Hi,” I swallowed, already knowing that what she was going to tell me wasn’t going to be good. Was Josh ending things through her? That seemed exceptionally cowardly. And Josh did not strike me as someone that was cowardly.

  “I talked to Josh.” Allie’s expression was one of sympathy.

  I felt a lump form in my throat, but I refused to cry. I wasn’t so pathetic that I was going to cry over a guy I wasn’t even really dating. One evening of oral sex did not equal a relationship of any kind. It was nothing to cry over.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I told her, really not wanting to have this conversation with her. “You don’t need to let me down easily. I get it.”

  Allie frowned. “He said nothing had happened between the two of you.”

  “It hasn’t,” I said quickly.

  She paused. “Ok, that’s good.” She took a deep breath. “I was worried he might have crossed a line.”

  “Crossed a line?” I was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “That he had hit on you, or tried to sleep with you, or something,” Allie explained, though she looked just as uncomfortable with this topic of conversation as I felt. “And I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

  “He didn’t force himself on me or anything like that.”

  “I know.” There were red spots blooming on Allie’s cheeks. “He’s just not that reliable when it comes to dating and relationships and I didn’t want you to get hurt.” She patted my arm. “It’s better if he backs off before anything happens.”

  I stared at her. What was she saying, exactly? Had she told Josh to end things with me?

  “What did you say to him?” I asked, trying not to get mad. Allie was my friend. I knew that. But right now I was starting to think she was thinking of me as someone who needed to be protected.

  “Nothing.” She held up her hands, but I could tell that she wasn’t proud of what she had done. “I just, I might have said something about you two being too different. About how he didn’t have a good track record with women.”

  My mouth fell open. “You told him to back off?” I was incredulous.

  Allie looked ashamed. “I thought it was the best option. For both of you,” she argued, but I could tell that she was already beginning to regret what she had said.

  “And Josh agreed with you?”

  “Well,” Allie shuffled her feet. “Not at first. He told me it wasn’t any of my business.”

  “It’s not!” I never got angry, especially not at friends, but I was pretty annoyed right now. “Whatever is—was—happening between Josh and me wasn’t any of your business.”

  “I’m sorry, Reagan.” Allie put her hand out, but I moved away. “I’ve just seen how Josh treats women. He doesn’t do relationships.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t want a relationship,” I told her. “Maybe I want something casual. Something fun. Did you think about that?”

  “No,” Allie hung her head, abashed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  She looked so unhappy, so guilty, that my anger dissipated.

  “I know you were just looking out for me,” I said gently. “But I’m an adult. And Josh is too. What we do is between us. Even if I get hurt.”

  “You’re right,” said Allie. “I overstepped. A lot.” She looked at me. “If it helps, Josh was just as angry at me.”

  “But he agreed with you,” I said sadly.

  “I’m pretty persuasive,” Allie told me. “And I might have made it sound as if he was being selfish in pursuing anything with you.”

  “Allie!”

  Her shoulder’s slumped. “I’m the worst.”

  I took a deep breath. “You’re not.” I knew she had been trying to help. In a meddling, annoying sort of way. “But you shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

  “You’re right,” she said, then stepped out of my way. “You should go talk to him.”

  “Maybe I will,” I said, grabbing my bag. “I think we need to have a good, long talk.”

  JOSH

  I was stepping out of the shower when I heard the phone ring. Tying my towel around my
waist, I answered when I saw it was the doorman calling.

  “You have a visitor,” he said. “A Miss Reagan Bennett.”

  My eyebrows went up. What was Reagan doing here? I was convinced that my sister would have given her a version of the speech I already got, though heavier on the “you can do better than him” talking points. Because, well, that was true.

  “Let her up,” I told the doorman.

  I stood there, in my living room, trying to figure out why Reagan was here, when I realized that I was wearing nothing but a towel. Not exactly the best way to greet someone. But I only managed to pull a pair of jeans on before I heard the knock at the door.

  Except, it wasn’t a knock. No, Reagan was pounding on the door. Loudly. I yanked the door open to find her, fist raised, cheeks flushed, wearing an expression I’d never seen on her face before. Anger. She was angry.

  “You!” she gave me a shove. “You arrogant, patronizing asshole!”

  It wasn’t a hard shove, but it was for her. I backed up, giving her enough room to come into the apartment and slam the door behind her.

  “Hi,” I said, giving her what I intended to be an encouraging and apologetic smile.

  “Don’t hi me,” she said, shaking her fist at me. “I just had a conversation with your sister. An extremely awkward conversation. Do you want to know what we talked about?”

  I didn’t know what the correct response was, but it didn’t really matter because Reagan powered on without waiting for me to answer.

  “I just had a conversation with your sister about my sex life. Or, about my non-existent sex life, because she’s under the impression that I’m so naïve and innocent that I need to be protected from making the mistake of sleeping with you. And apparently you agreed with her!”

  “That’s not exactly—” I tried to object, but Reagan wasn’t done talking.

  “And apparently, the two of you decided—without consulting me, of course—that the best thing would be for you to leave me alone, because apparently I’m unable to tell the difference between sex and a relationship and I’m so helpless that I need to be removed from the equation before I do something as colossally dangerous as having sex with you.”