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“Hey!” I say, making sure there’s plenty of distance between us. I turn away from him, hoping he won’t attempt any conversation. And there are definitely worse things than his becoming mesmerized by my bouncing booty. Staying light on his feet, almost bobbing and weaving, he makes his way around to face me once again. I do another half spin, then another. Each time he follows me. Here I am, afraid he wants to get rid of me when I can’t seem to get rid of him.
“Wanna get out of here?” he yells clearly over the music.
“What?” I cup a hand over my ear like I can’t hear him.
Finally, he steps close to me, puts his hand on my waist and his mouth to my ear. “Wanna go back to the motel?”
His eyes meet mine in an intense gaze and my pulse goes haywire. Only I’m not sure if it’s the fear of being fired for the second time in a week or the rush of excitement that comes from thinking of going home with him. I turn slightly and shout over the music. “I’m having a good time!”
The song shifts again, this time to something slower. And somehow it seems quieter too. I don’t know what to do so I just stand there frozen, looking at Nick looking at me.
“Why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and this time there’s nowhere to run. I have to face him.
“Because I bombed again and I don’t want you to kick me off the tour over some subpar sets.”
He wrinkles his brow. “What? I’m not kicking you off the tour.”
“You’re not?”
“No, you’ve had some rough nights but I know you’re a good comic. You have a lot of potential. A lesser comedian would’ve given up a long time ago.”
“Then what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well, like you said, you’ve had some subpar sets. It’s the tour. The first time you go on the road it can be intimidating. We’re comics. We’re all a little neurotic. But if you want things to go better, you have to get out of your head. So tomorrow in Nashville, try to relax. Go up there like you would at Funnies. Same jokes, different crowd. I know you can do this, Olivia. I believe in you.”
“You do?” I ask, feeling a rush from his acceptance. At least one person sees me the way I want to be seen.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have asked you on this tour if I didn’t. Besides, I like having you around,” he says, but the way he’s looking at me, I’m almost sure what he means is that he likes me.
“I like having you around too,” I say, holding his gaze. Then his eyes fall to my mouth and my lips part. Nick reaches for my waist at the same time I reach for his leather lapel. Without a word, Nick and I crash into each other, our lips locked in a hot kiss. His hands crawl up my back as my palms scrape his stubbly cheeks, and I caress his soft hair with my fingertips. It’s like he’s been wanting this since we met too.
I know we’re not supposed to but now I see something Nick and I have in common.
A slight disregard for the rules.
