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“I didn’t dream at all,” she said, attempting to guide him back to earth.
“Then I’ll do my best to change that.” He stole her hand for a kiss before she could blink. A little much, but she wouldn’t fault him for that.
Snow slipped her hand free and led the way toward the elevator located at the end of the hall. His words were flirty and fun, but something told her, based on his song the night before, that Preston had a flare for dramatics. Considering his background as an actor, it had to come easily to him. Snow couldn’t help but wonder if he was putting on a show now.
Did he mean what he’d said? Or was he saying it because he knew it would makehimlook good?
Snow didn’t know. That meant getting to know one another was going to be that much more difficult.
Palm trees speared through the bright sky, and Preston got her door to their awaiting vehicle, allowing her to enter before he slid in.
They made small talk through a bout of congested traffic until they made it to the theater in downtown San Diego.
“I’ll be performing on a stage like this someday,” Preston said as they passed through an impressive lobby and into the theater itself. The space was massive, gaping open wide and filled with seats facing a stage and the sounds of an orchestra warming their instruments out of sight.
“You want to be on Broadway?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, leading her to their row. “Ever since I went to my first play.”
“How old were you?”
“When I was eight, my parents took me to seeWickedand I was hooked.”
“That’s a good one.”
“Right?” He stopped and sank into his designated seat.
“My friend Lily and I went to it when the show came to Orlando a few years ago,” she said, sitting beside him. The seat’s velvet was soft under her fingertips. “It really was as amazing as everyone said. I love the music, you know?”
Preston either didn’t hear her or was too caught up in humming. Eyes closed, he began to snap the beat with his fingers and sing lyrics to a song fromDear Evan Hansen.
Snow sighed and settled into her seat. At least they had an excellent view of the stage from here.
Minutes later, Preston was still singing. Others in the theater peered in their direction, and Snow had the impulse to duck her head. He was talented, that was true, but she didn’t want any more attention on them than there already was. She wondered where Hector, her videographer, had positioned himself. Was he filming them even now?
Preston peeked an eye at her and seemed to notice her discomfort. “I get carried away sometimes,” he said, grinning and lowering his hand. “I love it so much.”
Glad he’d stopped, Snow straightened and gestured to the closed curtain and the playbill in her hand, previewingObsessed’s title and the actors’ bios. “Have you seen this one?” she asked.
“Not yet. I heard it’s good, though.”
“I haven’t seen it either. I—”
“Oh, there they go,” he said, cutting her off and gesturing to the stage. The orchestra’s warmups turned from discordant sounds to melodic, composed, and sonorous harmonies. Preston flashed her an excited smile and settled into his seat eagerly.
Snow had more she wanted to tell him. How she loved being on stage, her favorite plays, the thrill of seeingPhantom of the Operain New York when she’d been a teenager. But though there was time to continue talking, his attention was completely on the stage. And on himself.
“I can’t get enough of this, you know?” He hummed and angled his head in time to the orchestra’s melody.
Snow didn’t answer. She suspected he didn’t want a response anyway.
The play was powerful and well done. It was a moving story of a woman slighted by love and being stalked by a man who fixated on her so much he put her in danger so that no one else could have her.
“Incredible,” Preston kept saying once the show was over. Again, every time she tried to talk or add to the conversation, he overrode her with his commentary or acted as though he hadn’t heard her.
He prattled on about his acting career throughout dinner—which, delicious as her meal of crab and shrimp was, beautiful as the view at the end of the pier over the ocean was—made her more than ready to return to their hotel.
Snow stared out at the ocean, thinking of the undulating water, of the gulls swooping overhead, of the hopeless pit creating a cavern in her chest. This was why she’d picked Preston, she reminded herself. She knew better than to hope he would be different than he’d been during the premiere.
