Page 40 of The Prospect

And with my single remark, before I know it, just like Demi Moore in the movie, I lean back against Hart's chest, dampen his hands one by one, and guide them toward my vase ahead.

“Am I doing okay?” Hart asks, his fingertips gliding over top of the clay softly.

“Mhm,” I hum, continuing to guide his strong hands the exact way they need to go. If I go up, he goes up. If I go down, he goes down, and after a few minutes, when his hand falls beneath my chin, tilting my face upward to lean in, I follow his lead, bracing for a kiss when?—

“Alright, everyone!” Polly’s loud voice shouts, bringing not only Hart and I to a stand-still, but the entire storefront too. “Your time is up! Please finish what you’re doing and meet me by the kiln. It’s time to solidify your creations.”

I blink rapidly a couple of times to come back down to reality, all the while pulling back from Hart with some resistance and looming thoughts.

“Guess I, uh—better get my rock,” Hart jokes, wiping a smudge of clay away from my chin and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Join me, pretty girl?” He extends his hand out, towering over top of me.

It’s an unbeknownst sight.

I smile, embracing his touch and leaning in.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

THIRTEEN

G R E E N

“The secondI’m done with school, I’m moving to New York City to see if I can make it big on Broadway. Have you been to NYC before, Green?”

I open my mouth to respond to Amira’s question, but she beats me to it, opting to ramble on about all of the Broadway performances she’s been to in the past instead and how they’ve inspired her to be the entertainer she is today.

I’ll admit, our conversation tonight hasn’t been that of a conversation at all. It’s completely one-sided, with her doing all the talking, and me doing all the listening.

But this is how you get to know someone, right? You listen to what they have to say. Besides, Amira’s a busy girl with a lot of things on her plate. I’m confident she has more things to unpack about herself than I do anyway.

I lean back into the booth, using my fork to slide my dinner around my plate. Amira uses the gap in the conversation to take another bite out of her gluten-free, dairy-free, everything-free dish from the “best restaurant in town.”

Her words, not mine.

I’d originally booked a reservation for the two of us at a place that seemed perfect, but when she wanted to change it at the last minute, I couldn’t say no, could I?

She’s too pretty to say no to.

The only con? Now, I’m stuck eating…avoidingthis rendition of vegan tacos I ordered. They’re…interesting,to put it nicely.

“You know.” Amira swallows, dapping the side of her mouth with a serviette. “I had a talent agent get in touch with me last week. They’re going to try and set up some auditions for me for a local sitcom. Isn’t that just great?” She smiles wide—eyes glimmering in delight.

I rest my fork on the side. “That’s great, Amira.” It’s refreshing to hear my voice for the first time all night. “You’ll do incredible. I hope you know that?—”

“Oh, I know,” she proudly boasts, placing both of her hands on either side of her cheeks as she stares at me through her long lashes and winged liner. “I totally will.”

Despite her innate ability to never let me finish a sentence, as I look at Amira, all I can think about is just how out of my league she is. Christ, she’s so gorgeous. It makes me wonder how the hell we even ended up here. How the hell she even agreed to go out with me.

I sip on my water to wash away not only the residual taste of the meal but my insecurities, seeing this miraculous gap in conversation as a way to finally do some talking.

“So, tell me,” I begin, peering over at Amira. “What inspired you to get into dramatic arts?”

Amira cocks a brow, leaning back against her seat. “I mean, isn’t it obvious, Green?” She flips her hair over her shoulder before striking a pose. “I’m dramatic, duh!”

I laugh, forcing one out of her as well as she carries on.

“But in all seriousness, I’ve always been outgoing. Growing up, I was the middle child and so I always had to do something to remind my parents I existed. I guess eventually my dramatic ways became a part of my personality and I thought hey, if I can make money off of what I’m good at then why not go for it, right? I mean you should understand that. Look at you,” she gestures in my direction, “you’re amazing at what you do, Green. Now it’s your job!”

A sense of warmth floods through my chest at Amira’s compliment. I’ve heard a lot of things come out of that pretty little mouth of hers tonight, but that…that might just be my favorite. I’m about ready to thank her and open up about my football journey when I hear someone loudly shout her name from across the restaurant, prompting her head to swivel in that very direction.

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