She nodded again, focusing her attention on her oatmeal.
He didn’t get the message. “You know that means we’ve got to go in there and do that kiss from the opening scene.”
The kiss. Oh, God.
“We should practice it,” Matt said. “Don’t you think?”
Maggie took a deep breath. “Yeah. We should. How about after lunch?”
“How about now?”
She looked at him, looked at the clock. Stevie was due to arrive in about fifteen minutes. “Okay.” Somehow that made her feel safe.
Safer.
She stood up and headed toward the stairs.
Matt followed. “Where are you going?”
“To brush my teeth.”
He caught her arm, pulled her in to him, and kissed her. His mouth tasted sweet, like watermelon and bananas with a hint of peaches thrown in.
“Yum,” he said. “Brown sugar is definitely better than mint at this time of day.”
Maggie’s insides were doing flip-flops. He hadn’t touched her since that kiss in his car after last week’s disastrous rehearsal. She’d thought she was getting over him—or at least used to him. But if all it took was one little nothing kiss to make her knees feel weak, she was in big trouble.
“Here’s what I’m going to do,” Matt told her. He maneuvered her around as he spoke, going through it in slow motion, putting her into the right position for the best angle for the kiss. She tried to pay attention, but couldn’t. “Lucy is really nuts about this guy, despite everything she says. We should show that right from the start.”
As Maggie looked up into Matt’s golden-greenish eyes, she realized that she understood Lucy’s motivation perfectly. Because, damn it, she wanted Matt, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Maybe that was her problem. This role was hitting too close to home. But maybe if she kissed him not as Lucy, but as Maggie—Maggie kissing Matt. He’d never know the difference, and she’d bring a certain authenticity to the role.
“Ready?” Matt asked.
“Yeah.” She smiled. She was ready.
She stepped away from him as per the stage directions, and he pulled her toward him. This time, her movement was fluid, and she seemed to flow into his arms. Her lips went up to meet his, and she kissed him with all the fire in her soul. Unable to remember any of the blocking he’d just explained, she put her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.
She heard him groan, and felt his hands move down her back to the curve of her derriere, as he kissed her harder, more deeply. His thigh pushed against her, and she opened herself to him, wrapping one of her legs around his. The sensation of her bare skin against his made her ignite, and she pulled him even closer.
And still she kissed him. The eight bars of background music could have played over and over and over again.
He slipped his hand up underneath her T-shirt and she shivered at the touch of his fingers against her skin. But then his hand cupped her breast and her heart nearly stopped beating.
“Yo, dudes—Oops, looks like I’ve come at a bad time.”
Maggie and Matt jumped apart to see Stevie backing out of the room.
“We were just rehearsing,” Maggie said breathlessly, her cheeks heating.
Matt sat down at the kitchen table and put his face in his hands. When he glanced up at Stevie, his expression was black, with only a hint of amusement in his eyes to offset it.
“Oh, gee, I just remembered, uh,” Stevie said, “I’ve got to run some errands—”
“Oh, knock it off.” Maggie was annoyed. “It wasn’t what it looked like.” She turned to Matt, blushing again as she remembered the feel of his hand on her breast, but determined to be professional. “I think we sort of overshot the mark, but at least I wasn’t stiff.”
Matt fought the urge to laugh at her word choice. She may not have been stiff….
“Do you want to try it again?” she asked.
“No,” Matt said. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even stand up right now. “Maybe later.”
Steve followed Maggie into the office, turning back to give Matt one last apologetic look. Matt made a face at him, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in frustration.
Stevie glanced in the direction Maggie had disappeared, then came back into the kitchen. “Maybe this is none of my business,” he said quietly to Matt, “but she’s in love with you.”
“I wish.”
“I’m telling you, it’s true.” Steve was serious. “I know her. She’s… Just don’t hurt her, okay?”
Matt was silent as he met the kid’s gaze, uncertain how to respond. He couldn’t decide himself which was worse torture —thinking she didn’t love him or thinking maybe she did.
As usual, Maggie and Matt rolled into rehearsal several minutes early.
The assistant director, the stocky woman with the cat eyeglasses and the clipboard—her name was Dolores, but Dan Fowler called her Hey!—approached Matt immediately, holding out a plastic-wrapped cup with a screw-on lid.
Maggie’s stomach took a downward plunge.
“Time for you-know-what,” Dolores said, tossing the cup to him. “The rules are I’ve got to walk you into the little boys’ room.”
Matt was serene. He just laughed. But when he glanced at Maggie, she knew this bothered him more than he was letting on.
She watched him walk away, wondering how it would feel to be haunted by a bad reputation. It didn’t seem fair that people didn’t notice how much he’d changed.
“Stanton!” Maggie turned to see Dan Fowler waving to her from up on the stage. “Come here for a sec.”
“What’s up?”
He was sitting on one of the chairs that served as makeshift scenery, and he motioned for her to sit, too. When she did, he crossed his arms and looked at her.
And she panicked. He was having second thoughts about casting her. He didn’t think she was going to be able to do those kisses, and he was figuring out the best way to break the news….
“How long have you been seeing Stone?” he finally asked.
She blinked. Stone. Matt. “I’m not… I mean, we’re not dating or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
“You always show up with him. And leave with him.”
What was this leading up to? Maggie didn’t have a clue. “We’re housemates,” she told him.
“You live together.”
“Yeah, but as friends,” she clarified. “We went to high school together.”
“And you’re not involved with him?”
“No.” Why was he asking this?
Dan smiled, his beard parting to expose white, even teeth. His eyes were warm, the dark brown flecked with gold. When he wasn’t frowning, he was actually quite handsome.
“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he said.
They ran through the opening number, even daring to hoist Maggie onto the shoulders of the men’s chorus. It was awkward and she giggled, but they were on their way.
Then the dread kiss approached. Matt gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they