Page 23 of A Game as Old as Time

She bent down to pick up her books, which were lying next to the curtain, and he could not stop his eyes from following her every move.

“Well, I already have a part in the musical, so I did not have a tryout today.”

Gunner stood up straight.

“Wait, you’re not the lead?”

She spun, her eyes narrowing as she practically ran past him.

“I am surprised you even know what a lead is.”

Man, she is tough.

His feet instinctively followed.

“Number one, everyone knows what the lead is in a musical. And number two, you were ten times better than any of the others who auditioned today.” A soft laugh escaped before he continued. “I mean, I’m assuming Bridgette will get the role, and you are like a million times better.”

She stopped abruptly. Her books were clenched directly against her chest when she turned to him, and he once more could not help where his gaze traveled.

“Bridgette has spent three years preparing for her chance to be the lead in this play, and she deserves the opportunity.”

The tone made Gunner jerk his eyes up from her chest. The piercing glare of her hazel irises was more intense than ever before.

She really does hate me.

He cleared his throat and kicked at the ground in defeat.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, she has been doing this for a while.”

He could feel her looking him up and down. The microscope treatment made him shift uncomfortably.

“I would not expect you to understand, but I am playing a very important part in this play, as well.”

She stormed off toward the end of the stage, her feet heavy against the laminate wood planks.

Jeez, this girl.

Gunner inhaled to collect himself.

“I’m assuming you’re playing the teapot, then?” It was the only thing he could think of saying to keep her in the room.

“Why…” She stopped at the top step, her back still toward him. “Why would you say that?”

Here we go.

Gunner took a step forward, his confidence growing since he had clearly piqued her interest.

“Well,” he said, sitting on the edge of the stage and dangling his legs. “She sings the famous song in the movie, and, well, your voice sounds like a soprano.”

She twisted toward him, reluctantly moving back across the stage.

“What do you mean?”

Gunner brought one knee up to his chest. A slight twinge crossed his face when pain played across his back, but he didn’t hesitate.

“Well, from listening to you sing, you sound like a soprano.” She appeared to like what he had to say, and he cracked a slight smile.

There you go, bring her in.

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