“Hmmm?” I look up at him. His jaw is tense.
“If you don’t stop touching me like that, I’m going to forget I’m supposed to stay away from you and do some very unprofessional things to you right here in the middle of the stage. Now, I’d actually enjoy that, but I’m predicting you wouldn’t. So, continue at your own risk.”
Reluctantly, I take my hands off him and step back. “It’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy it. It just can’t happen.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “I understand. Sort of. I’d better go find my keys. And have a cold shower. Please don’t fall off the ladder and kill yourself while I’m gone. That would bum me out.”
I try not to smile. “I’ll do my best.”
He heads backstage to his dressing room. By the time he returns, I’ve hung the last lamp and have started plotting a few of the light settings we’ll be using the next day.
He holds up his keys. “Found them. Also, did you know there’s no shower in my dressing room?”
“Yep. There’s only one shower in this entire theater, and right now, it’s filled with paint cans and half-washed rollers. Welcome to the glamorous world of theater.”
He throws his hands up in mock exasperation. “I can’t work under these conditions! I’ll be in my trailer.”
I smile. “Getting a head start on your star attitude, huh? I approve. You are going to be a star, after all.”
“Really?” he asks. “I’m doing an okay job?”
I roll my eyes. “Miriam hasn’t gushed over your performance enough? You’re amazing. We all think so.”
He takes a step closer, and suddenly, I have no idea which cue I’m up to anymore. “We? As in, you think I’m amazing?”
I pause and give him my most sincere expression. “Eh. You’re okay.”
He chuckles as I go back to my cue sheet. I can feel his eyes on me as I continue to punch buttons and set light levels.
“Well, I think you’re amazing,” he says, gently. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
I smile. “Lots of things. Calculus. Burpees. Nickelback karaoke.” He puts his hand over mine, and it makes me suck in a quick breath.
“I mean it, Liss. You’re incredible. If you’re almost done, we could grab a pizza and head back to my place. Sit on the roof. Watch the lights. Nothing unprofessional. Just . . . friends. Who lust after each other.”
He strokes the back of my hand, and I’m tempted. I really am. But being alone with him for an extended period is sure to result in us being naked and handsy. “I can’t, Liam. I’m sorry.”
He nods. “I figured you’d say that, but I had to ask.” He removes his hand and exhales. “Okay, then. I’ll let you get back to work. See you in the morning?”
“Yep. See you then.”
He smiles and walks away, and when I hear the stage door slam closed behind him, I put my head down on the desk and groan with frustration.
Sometimes having impeccable work ethics sucks giant hairy yak balls.
Most days, I’m the first person to get to the theater. I enjoy it because it means I can take my time and get organized before everyone else arrives.
That’s why it’s disturbing when I walk in this morning to hear sex noises. They’re quiet, but definitely there.
I grab my big metal flashlight and creep backstage, ready to confront horny teenagers who probably snuck in while our security guard, Guido, was off getting his fourth espresso of the day.
As I sneak through the backstage shadows, I realize the noises are coming from Liam’s dressing room.
Oh, God. Really?
My heart’s in my throat as I approach the door. It’s open, and bright light bleeds into the dark corridor.
The soft grunting continues, and I shouldn’t find it arousing considering that the thought of finding him with another girl makes me want to throw up.
I close my eyes and take a breath. “Liam? Is that you?”
The grunting stops just long enough for him to say, “Yeah. Come in.” Then the noises start up again.
Okay. This could be awkward.
I step into the doorway and freeze. He’s not having sex. He’s lying on the ground, knees bent, doing sit-ups.
Shirtless.
My sweet giddy Christ.
Pecs, wide and hard. Abs, everywhere. Way too many to be normal. Biceps pop as he presses his hands behind his head.
I’m ashamed to say I’ve imagined what Liam’s naked torso would look like too many times to count, but I’ve never actually seen it until now. Clearly, I have the imagination skills of a cabbage, because his actual body? In the immortal words of Keanu Reeves: Whoa.
“You just going to stand there and watch?” he asks, a little out of breath.
“Yep.” The contraction of his abs has me completely mesmerized. I can’t look away. “Anyway . . . uh . . . this is about as close to exercise as I like to get. But please, you knock yourself out.”
My God, his body is insane.