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As he tried to relax his body, rolling his shoulders in dramatic motions, a snort slipped out of Melody, in seconds turning into a full-blown laugh that echoed in the large practice chamber. By the time TJ stomped off the stage, she was doubled over with her hands braced on her thighs, her back heaving with her wonderful laughter.
“Don’t be a jerk.” He came to a stop beside her, and she lifted her head, her eyes dancing with mirth. His heart squeezed. Why did she have to be so gloriously beautiful?
“You look like a strutting turkey up there.”
“Rude.”
Her eyes closed as she coughed up more laughs until, much later than TJ liked, she took a deep breath and tossed her long locks. TJ tried in vain not to trail the motion of her hair with his eyes. “Whew. I needed that. Sorry it had to be at your expense.”
He huffed. “Better mine than anyone else in this room.”
“You got that right.” She winked, the despairing Melody he’d seen the past two weeks and come to know over instant messaging gone in a flash. “Let’s do Act III. The ending is the second-most important part of any play, and the most memorable.”
Yeah, this one sure would be. When June rushed off stage to puke after his kiss. TJ’s stomach churned like an ice cream maker, but he dutifully climbed the stairs back to the stage and took up his position across from June.
She was so young it felt practically criminal to touch her.
“How old are you?” he whispered.
“Twenty-one.”
“Oh, good. I won’t go to jail or anything for this.”
She choked on a laugh, but TJ didn’t smile. He wasn’t joking.
“And—action.”
TJ came in on time with his lines, but Melody interrupted to direct his motions, and five minutes later sweat was running down his back in rivulets. The next week and a half were going to take years off his life. Years.
“I don’t know where I’m going next, and I don’t care—as long as you’re coming with me,” he said his final, painfully cheesy line, and waited for June, who looked perfectly at home a couple inches away from him, her head tilted at an adoring angle.
“You’ll never get rid of me now.”
That was his cue to put his hands on her waist, pull her in, and kiss her. Melody had told him to just drop a kiss on her lips. Nothing extraordinary. But so incredibly awkward.
“You look like a robot, TJ. Honestly! Haven’t you ever kissed a girl?” The frustrated words exploded from Melody’s mouth before she froze, her director’s clipboard clutched in the hand that dangled lifelessly at her side. He looked at her and lifted one eyebrow.
Only you. He longed to say it aloud, but the color rushing to her face told him she’d gotten his meaning regardless, and she dropped eye contact. Whatever her memories were of that day, she kept them tightly within along with the rest of the things she wouldn’t let him see.
“Try again, please,” she said softly, the life gone out of her voice. TJ gave it his best shot, but he felt June wince at his meager attempts.
“I’m sorry.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair and stepped back. “I’ll get better at this, I promise.”
June gave a wan smile. “It’s okay. Like Miss Reed said, you need to loosen up.”
He puffed a breath of air from his mouth, nodded, and swung around. Melody sat in a chair in the center of the room, her head in her hands. TJ approached quietly.
“Does your boss work on Saturdays?”
When Melody lifted her face, it was bleak. “Sometimes.”
He swallowed a vortex of nerves. He knew what this play needed. What would make it come alive, and with it, him. What Melody needed. What she’d always wanted for her plays.
Music.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
