Page 47 of Director's Cut

“That should be easy,” I say, my voice a little higher than normal, even, airy. Like this is no big deal, even as my heart hammers. “Movie musicals continue to be churned out and wait in development hell all the time. I’m currently testing for a musical adaptation. We could revise the syllabus to include more hands-on discussion of the industry. I also know a bunch of directors and producers who work in that space who can come do Q and A’s. I’d be happy to share my resources for the same fee as last time.” Which was pro bono.

Ashlee purses her lips.

“Okay,” she says, and that one word launches my heart into space. “I like that.” She straightens out, her hands dropping into her lap. “I really appreciate you jumping in to help out, Maeve. You’re such a valuable member of the faculty.”

For the first time since walking into the room, Maeve smiles. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Send me the updated course description tonight, and I’ll get you your schedule before the semester ends.”

Like that, it’s done. And god am I working off a high. Blood is pumping through my body, and my skin is so warm I could take off my sweater. I haven’t felt this way since Mason and I exchanged that knowing glance after I auditioned for Aurora in Goodbye, Richard!

As we exit the building, I throw a smile at Maeve. “How’re you feeling?”

The world goes fuzzy as I focus on her.

Maeve smirks. Maeve smirks and fucking leans in, gets so close her breath is in my ear. “Far too excited to celebrate in public. Your car here?”

Fuck. Every word zings into my brain like I’m a cartoon character. “Isn’t that a little high school?”

“I can’t wait.”

It takes all my willpower not to grab Maeve’s hand as we walk to the dank corner of the faculty parking lot where my Porsche sits.

“I can’t thank you enough, by the way,” Maeve says as I fumble for my car keys.

“Any time, colleague,” I say, giving her a little salute.

She leans in, running a hand along the cherry red paint of my car. “You know what, despite how male midlife crisis your car is, I like it.” She slides between me and the car door, inches from me. My heart lodges in my throat, and I can feel my heartbeat knocking off my teeth.

“I like you.”

I’ve wanted to hear Maeve say these words for so long. It lights my body on fire. Sitting in that classroom, seeing her apartment, giving her tips about public speaking, I almost convinced myself that she was just another cool person in my life. But no. She isn’t that, and she never was. She’s heaven incarnate in a world where I’m not sure God exists.

I don’t even care if she freaks out after I tell her about Trish’s Oscars stipulation. I need her right now.

We drop into the back seat. Once those doors shut behind us, our hands are into each other’s hair, digging into goose bumps–covered flesh. Breath hot, chests heaving, mouths on fire kissing. It’s like my brain just deleted everything that happened in the last week and a half. We’re back in her office, and separating was never an option. I feel myself kissing the lipstick off her. The sharp, floral scent of her perfume envelopes us. It’s harder to breathe, but god, I don’t want to breathe if it doesn’t taste like her and make my head spin. It’s tight in here, these Porsche seats aren’t that comfortable, and parts of my body are starting to ache, but somehow even that feels good, feels right with Maeve in my arms.

But then she pulls us horizontal. Pulls us horizontal, her on top, her hand slipping right into the hot space between my pants and panties, rolling her thumb exactly the right way, and I’m moaning and I need this, but god I can’t believe I’m saying this. If Maeve and I can be more than body-melting hot sex in the back of my car, I need to try. I can’t fuck this up like I fucked up my chances with any of my costars, with Luna, with anyone who might have wanted me beyond my body. Even if I might strain a muscle bringing this to a halt.

“Maeve, stop,” I say.

She pulls herself off me, rocketing back so we’re both sitting up. I’m dizzy for a moment from the rush.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “I’m sorry, we hadn’t…and I should’ve asked.”

“No, no, I want to have sex with you, but not like—I mean it when I say I like you. I don’t just want to have sex with you. I want— I want to take you on a date. Before we have sex. Maybe sex can be part of the date, but there’s a date in there. And maybe instead of hooking up we go on dates that include sex.”

Maeve eyes me for maybe three seconds, and that crushing fear of rejection is back.

“Okay,” she finally says.

My heart sinks, despite her words. “Okay what?”

She smiles. “Okay, let’s go on a date. Maybe even more than one date.”

That whole thing about fireworks? I don’t know exactly what happened when we kissed. But they’re definitely going off now. I pull her mouth right back to mine, barely able to move my lips against hers I’m smiling so hard. And when I feel her smiling right back into the kiss—fuck. I’m so lost to her.

“I like spending time with you,” I say.

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