Page 74 of When Stars Collide
“I understand.”
She reluctantly took off her fleece jacket and slipped out of her sneakers, but kept the cap on. “I’m getting undressed.”
“You do that.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
She pictured the beautiful underwear tucked away in her suitcase and the plain pair of sporty briefs she’d pulled on instead, along with an ugly, flesh-colored sports bra. What had she been thinking? That she’d pop into a gym for a quick pickup game?
Since she’d barely had three hours of sleep last night, she was lucky to be wearing underwear at all.
“Confess,” he said from the other side of the door. “You’re a virgin, right? That’s your deep, dark secret and why you’re running scared.”
“I’m not a virgin, and I’m not running scared. I’m just not good at transitions, and you know this is going to ruin everything. Next to Rachel, you’re sort of my best friend.”
“Exactly what a sex-starved man does not want to hear.”
“You’re right. I’m being stupid.” She slipped off her Cavatina3 and set it on the bathroom counter, followed by her poison ring, her Egyptian cuff, and, finally, her Stars ball cap.
She shook her hair out of its ponytail and took another deep breath. She was going to do this. She was going to forget that she’d fallen in love with him and simply enjoy it. This was about her body, not about her heart. She turned the knob.
He was sitting on the floor outside the door, his back against the wall, looking bored. “Sorry to tell you this,” he said, “but I’ve lost interest.”
“Regrettable.” She sat cross-legged on the floor next to him.
He bent one knee and propped his elbow on top. “Here are all the reasons you and I can never have a serious long-term relationship.”
“Keep talking dirty to me.”
“You’re completely dedicated to your career.”
“True.”
“In the world of opera, the sun pretty much rises and sets on you.”
“A slight exaggeration, but go on.”
“You’re a first stringer. A superstar.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’m a man who’s tired of playing backup.”
“Understandable.”
“I’m not designed to hold your purse while you sign autographs.”
“Hard to envision.”
“Or hand you a water bottle when you come offstage.”
“Environmentally unsound, those plastic water bottles, but I get your point.”
“In conclusion...”
“There’s a conclusion?”
“In conclusion, you’re a first stringer, Liv. And I could never be happy running around after you playing your backup.”
“So, you’re saying...?”
