Page 48 of If Ever

"Thanks for helping fill my evening. If it weren't for you, I'd have spent the night binge watching Stranger Things."

"That's enough to give you nightmares. Thanks for calling."

"My pleasure."

"Good night." Hanging up is like cutting off my oxygen.

I toss my phone on the bed, leap onto it and squeal like a little girl. Even though it's an impossible situation with us on opposite sides of the country, I really like him. And when I'm in New York, it'll only be for a day. I love and hate this so bad.

Between my rehearsal schedule and Anna's new job, we've had trouble connecting, but when we do, she's bouncing off the cell tower waves.

"I don't talk to you for a few days and suddenly you're dating a Broadway star!" she screeches, and I hold the phone away from my ear.

"No, not even close. We spent a handful of hours together over the course of three days. That's it. He lives three thousand miles away."

"But you made out? I saw a picture online. And why didn't you call me right away?"

My whole body flushes when I remember Tom's kisses. "There's a picture of us online?"

"Lots of them. Mostly with Dominic. Haven't you Googled yourself since the show began?" Anna says. "But, oh my God, Chelsea. You should see this one of Tom. He is so freakin' hot."

"Are you looking him up?" I picture her huddled over her laptop like when we were in college.

"Of course. Have you seen these pictures? He's with celebrities. He's a really big deal."

If she Googled him, I know exactly what pictures she's looking at. He's posed with more celebrities than I can name. Apparently it's a big deal for famous people to meet Broadway stars back stage after they see the show. Will I ever get to see that side of him? "This whole thing is pretty surreal," I say.

"Have you talked to him? Are you going to see him again?" she asks.

"Yes, and yes." I catch Anna up on our couple of phone calls. "And when I get booted from the show, I get to see him in New York."

"Chelsea, this is so exciting. It's almost better than you being on Celebrity Dance Off."

"Way better, but let's not make this bigger than it is. He might change his mind about me."

My days are jam packed with even more rehearsals and meetings as Dominic and I try to take advantage of our new found popularity. This week he's decided I should be a genie in a bottle who he's just released. Of course, he's thrown in just enough tricks to keep me up at night in a panic. But now I have Tom distracting me with texts throughout the day, quick phone calls during his intermissions, and longer ones each night when we're both home.

We're working through our number when my phone rings. I run to answer before it goes to voice mail. Dominic throws up his hands and calls a ten-minute break. So now I'm talking to Tom from the rehearsal studio parking lot. "What's your dressing room like?"

"What do you mean?" he says.

"You don't have a trailer like here in L.A. So what's it like?"

"Well, it's cluttered. I should really clean up in here. There's a couch where I collapse during intermission and after the show if I can't bear to face the crowd at the stage door."

"Fans wait for you? That's awesome."

Tom glosses over my comment. "There's a closet for my costumes, a refrigerator for my bottled water, snacks, and leftovers. A microwave to warm my tea."

"Tea? I've never known a guy who drinks tea."

"Come on. I'm British."

I giggle. "Do you have a floral teapot and fancy tea cups?"

"It's more like I microwave a mug of water, toss in a tea bag, give 'er a minute, and slosh the dripping bag in the trash. Actually, I hated tea growing up, but it's great for a singer's throat."

"Now you've ruined the image. I was thinking I'd have to ask you to fix me tea sometime, but it sounds more like instant cocoa."

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