Page 59 of Someone to Have
This is it. This is where I tell him I want to switch to the stage crew. Disappear like Homer Simpson into the bushes. He’s waiting for me to finish my thought, and I can feel Eric watching, his gaze heavy with expectation.
Suddenly, I don’t want to let down my confidence coach. Or Sloane. Or myself. “I just want you to know I’m going to be fine.”
“Of course you are, sweetheart.” Myrna places a hand on my shoulder. “We know that.”
Only Bryan’s staring at Eric as if he’s just now cluing in on the energy between us.
“Right, Bryan?” Myrna asks with a nudge.
“You’re going to be great,” he agrees, turning his gaze back to me. He runs a hand through his floppy hair, giving it a little toss. It’s cute. He’s cute, I remind myself. Why do I need to keep reminding myself? “We should run through your lines, just the two of us. The more you practice, the more comfortable you’ll be.”
Just the two of us…my heart clenches, but not quite in the way I expected.
“I’m helping her,” Eric says when I don’t answer.
Bryan’s furrowed brows shoot to his forehead. “You?”
Eric offers a slow smile. “We’refriends.” The way he says that word makes it sound dirty. In a good way. “You know how it goes. I’m happy to help.”
“I can help, too.” Bryan sounds weirdly defensive then flashes one of his boyish smiles. “We could grab dinner and run lines next week?”
He’s asking me out. I can’t speak. Myrna squeezes my shoulder. I need to answer.
“Ye-yes, that would b-be great.”
The waitress returns to the table with Eric’s credit card and the check to sign but if feels like she’s there to rescue me from the awkwardness of this moment. “Is there anything else I can bring you?”
“No,” Eric answers, definitely growly, as he signs his name then shoves the platinum card into his wallet.
“We’re good,” I tell her with a smile that I keep in place as I shift my focus to Bryan and Myrna. “It was good to see you both.” Good. Everything’s so good.
“We’ll talk at school on Monday.” Bryan nods. “Looking forward to…also helping you.”
Apparently, I need alotof help.
“Sure,” I say, then watch as they walk away.
I scoot out of the booth. “We should go.”
Eric grunts a response I can’t quite decipher.
“What did you say?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll think about what?” I stand toe-to-toe with him just outside the booth. His eyes flare.
“The request you made before Limpdick showed up.”
Mortification creeps across my skin like a spider. “Is the idea of sex with me such a burden that you have to mull it over?”
“It wouldn’t be a burden.” His voice has gone from growly to gentle, like he’s explaining basic math to a child. Then he turns and stalks out of the restaurant, dodging tables and waitstaff like he’s whizzing past a defensive line.
I’m almost out of breath when I catch up to him on the street.
“I need time,” he says, holding up a hand before I can speak. There’s something in his tone I don’t recognize. A level of strain that doesn’t make sense.
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
