Page 42 of Play the Part

Connie says the words slowly, spacing them and filling the silence between all four words with shocked horror. Her mouth is hanging wide open when she turns to look at me, but I’m still busy staring at the apocalypse happening outside through the glass doors.

The snowstorm is raging, I can barely see the building across the street. Whatever cars are still parked outside, including Connie’s, have been completely buried. The street itself is nowhere to be seen.

“You should have told me it was this bad,” she grumbles.

That has me turning my head to glare at her. “Ishould have told you?” Pointing to my chest. “Me?”

She turns sheepish, her gaze darting away, then back. “Well, yeah.”

I chuckle sardonically. “You’re not pinning this one on me, boss.”

She smirks, and the urge to trace the curves of her lips overwhelms me. Luckily, just like life itself, the feeling is fleeting.

“Fine, it’s nobody’s fault,” she says with pursed lips.

“It’s yours,” I deadpan.

She barks a laugh but still shoots me a worried look, dragging her hands down her face. “What the hell are we going to do? I can’t drive in this weather.”

I shrug my shoulders, backing away from the door. “I guess we’re stuck here for now.”

Connie’s eyebrows dip as she crosses her arms. “You don’t seem that alarmed by this.”

I want to say, “It’s becauseI get to spend more time with you.”Instead, I give her a dry smile and turn to the auditorium doors. “I’ve been to prison, being trapped inside is kind of my modus operandi.”

I hear her puff out a laugh behind me, and I can’t help but feel the sound somewhere deep inside my chest.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh about that.”

There’s still levity in her tone, but her comment falls much too close to pity for my liking.

“I want you to,” I say as I keep the auditorium door open for her. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

Her eyes lift to meet mine as she passes through the doorway, a soft smile on her lips. Her body is inches from mine, the hem of her coat sweeping across my thighs, and it’s as if she’s pressed her palms flat against my chest.

My internal reaction is the same.

Flames licking through my veins.

Venom just as sweet as how her lips once tasted.

Eager hands pull my sweater over my head. Our lips crash together again, and those damn eager hands now unbutton my jeans. She takes off her shirt, and I push her against the bathroom door. Fingers digging into her warm skin. A desperate palm wrapped firmly around her breast.

I watch her skip down the main aisle.

“What are we going to do?” she asks innocently as she trots up the stairs and takes center stage. “I wish we had —”

Her mouth drops as she whirls to look at me. My gaze is questioning while I walk down the aisle to reach her. Connie’s expression is one of mischievous delight.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

My chin lifts the more she walks toward the end of the stage, her feet now at the height of my chest. I could very well be kneeling at her feet, the feeling is just as intense.

She looks down at me and smiles devilishly.

“Follow me.”

Her big revelationwas a half-empty bottle of tequila in the staff lounge. She then dragged me up to the balcony to sit and share the bottle between us.

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