Page 39 of Yearn

I thought about Atlantic City and wondered why I suddenly got a chill. Like something bad was coming...something that would change everything.

Too bad I didn’t believe it.

Maybe I would have been better prepared for the fall-out.

Chapter Seventeen

Elle

Listen to Hello

by Lionel Richie

Istared blankly at the tv as theReal Housewives of New Yorkplayed out their drama across town. I wondered if they’d ever visited Red. Waiting on them would be super cool, and maybe I’d get some time on camera.

God knows, I wasn’t getting any other opportunities.

I hated the depression that threatened to roll over me in dark waves. I know I was lucky to have a steady job and live in the greatest city in the world. I had an awesome boyfriend, real friends, and a healthy body and mind. But losing the role I was so excited about over an outside influence sucked. Everything had been shut down from the writer’s strike, and I honestly couldn’t seem to bounce back.

Coop came in looking fresh and vital, as always. His t-shirt stretched across massive carved muscle. His hair was damp from the shower, and lay in messy curls over his forehead. Lightbrown eyes framed with lush lashes stared at me sprawled on the sectional under a ratty blanket, holding a glass of wine. It had been those same eyes that had pulled me in when we first met. He met my gaze directly, and the immediate spark of interest and appreciation got me hooked. Coop was a contradiction in many ways, which kept me off balance. He struck people as an ordinary gym rat; a hot, confident man like Max, but underneath, Coop held a poet’s soul. When he looked through the lens of a camera, he was an artist; determined to capture the essence of his subject. That was the part I fell in love with and what held me hostage.

He frowned and motioned toward the screen. “Really, Elle? You’ve seen this episode before. What are you doing?”

“Taking a break. I don’t have a shift today.”

“Why don’t you go for a run?”

I wrinkled my nose. “It’s too hot. Plus, I hate running.”

“We can go the gym then and lift. You need some endorphins.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. Coop was one of those fanatics about energy—he drank protein shakes, worked out nonstop, and believed thinking positive could pretty much change anything. I loved that about him but he could be a pain in the ass. He was always trying to fix me, make me better, but if he spent the night getting trashed and ate a whole pizza, he just laughed it off. If I did it, I heard about it for weeks. He forgave himself easy but held me to higher standards.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

He blew out an annoyed breath and sat next to me, rubbing my feet. “Did you talk to Noah about the song? You going over his place later?”

I shook my head. “I told him no. Don’t want to do music.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, wishing he’d go so I could finish the episode. I needed a break from positivity and mindset. I needed alcohol and Bravo and Landon, who’d stroke my hair and get trashed with me without endless questions. “Because I’d rather act. That’s my true calling.”

“Elle, Adam had to compromise, too, but it’s for the bigger picture. I know you’re upset but the role is gone. No one’s hiring now and maybe not for a while. You gonna huddle up here for the next year whining about how things aren’t fair?”

I glared at him and yanked my feet away. “Can I have one lousy afternoon to feel bad, Coop?”

“No, it’s a waste of time. Go see Noah and get something going. Sing with Adam and get some exposure. Noah went out on a limb for you.”

I know. I’d been feeling bad about it. Noah had composed music to emphasize the strengths of my voice, and Adam had the perfect lyrics to pair it to. I loved singing, but had been determined not to rely on my voice to get noticed. I wanted to act, it burned in my soul ever since that first high school play of Into the Woods. I got the Little Red Riding Hood role because of my voice, but it was the character portrayal that hooked me. A way to get outside of myself and jump into another person was a heady experience. I pursued my passion/hobby ever since, taking professional lessons, studying drama, and relentlessly trying out for any type of role available. I’d felt as if I was hovering around breaking out for a long time, but now it was all gone. At least, for a while.

In my heart, I knew Coop was right. I had to pursue this other option. It would give me a focus and may blast me out of my depression. Plus, Noah had been so sweet and understanding. When we were working on music together, I had a blast. He was patient and listened to my suggestions, when most of the guys would’ve pushed their own opinion. We’d gotten closer over thepast year. He was the only one who engaged in conversations that held deep levels, and I loved discussing literature and books and trivia with him. I was a closet nerd, too, so we got along well.

I owed Noah a try.

I blew out a breath and shot Coop a look. “Fine. Can I finish my wine first and then I’ll text him?”

He grinned and grasped my legs, dragging me close. “How about we find another way to get you some endorphins?”

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