Page 71 of Teach Me to Fly

Sure it’s not.

And I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Me:

Goodnight, Lando.

Lando:

Fine, be mysterious. But if you two elope before opening night, I expect a seat at the head table.

Me:

Goodniiiiiiight.

Lando:

Night, Swan Queen. Don’t let your trust fall into the wrong arms.

I’m smiling as I go to set my phone back on the nightstand to charge, but it vibrates again in my hand—Reign’s name lighting up the screen.

Reign of Terror:

Why did Lando just text me asking if I, and I quote, “caught you like it was a scene from Dirty Dancing”?

I laugh, breath catching in my throat as I sink deeper beneath the covers.

Me:

I mean… you kinda did.

Minus the retro halter top.

Reign of Terror:

Pity.

You’d look good in one.

Me:

You’re insufferable.

Reign of Terror:

And you’re deflecting.

But it’s fine.

I can wait.

Me:

Wait for what?

Reign of Terror:

For you to stop pretending that whatever you feel for me isn’t real.

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