Page 39 of Smoke Show

"Does it pay well?" she asked, and I chuckled. She must be feeling brave. Exhilaration filled me.

"Do sexual favors from the principal count?" I murmured in her ear, careful so that my students couldn't overhear.

Eve blushed, and I pulled away, turning to the cast. Most hadn't even tried to pretend they weren't watching us for fireworks, though no one wanted to meet my gaze.

"Okay, now that I've admired myself, can we please get to work? Come on, everybody."

It took all my concentration not to crack up during practice every time I caught a face peeking back at me. The longer I stared at the set, the more tiny details, tiny versions of me, I saw. It was brilliant trolling. I could only hope ourSnow Queenaudience had either a good sense of humor or poor eyesight. If the town thought Iwantedthe sets to look like a cloning experiment gone wrong, there’d be no living it down.

Eve approached me cautiously after the last student left, wishing us a goodnight.

"Am I in the doghouse?" she asked, watching my expression carefully.

I paused, pretending to consider. "I don't know why you'd think that. Your work is beautiful. You really put your heart into it. Not everyone is brave enough to shout their feelings like that. I admire your courage."

She choked. "Mycourage?"

"Easy, Tiger. If the book club weren't gunning for us before, you can be sure that after they see this performance, there'll be no doubts."

I rocked back on my heels, flashing my dimples at her.

She looked mildly horrified, as if she were finally putting it all together.

Yes, she'd trolled the hell out of me in the most public way, but it was about to backfire. Massively.

Maybe if she'd turned me into more of a caricature, she could have played it off as a dig, but it was the couple at the back that sealed the deal. Eve had turned the play into a public declaration, whether she meant it that way or not. I'd thought she was skittish about our relationship, and I'd been taking it slow, trying to ease her into the idea of us as a couple, but her little gesture of defiance had proved just the opposite: how much she liked me.

I held out my arm. "Ready for dinner?"

Eve threaded her arm through mine, shaking her head slowly, as if in disbelief.

I hid my smile as I ushered her out into the cold night and to my car. There was no need to rub it in.

Eve liked me. She'd just admitted as much to the whole world.

Chapter 16

Eve

MystomachswirledasI sat in the passenger seat of Brady's car, letting the lights of Campfire meld together in a blur as I considered my prank from his perspective.

He was right, dammit.

I'd thought I was being clever and a little bit silly, but art had a way of revealing truths about the universe. I'd never considered my work that lofty, but in this case, my craft had revealed way more than I intended about my inner thoughts.

Like that Brady Gleason was all I thought about.

I wiped my hands across my face, careful not to smudge my eye makeup. It'd taken twenty minutes to get the smoky look I wanted, there was no reason to destroy it in a fit of mortification.

Brady had taken the sets quite well, all things considered. It was probably a good sign that he'd tried to leverage me into merch design. His good humor took any sting out of the self-realization. If Brady was all I thought about, he seemed more than pleased with the evidence.

Straightening, I decided to brazen it out. So what if I liked Brady? He liked me. We were dating. Any hopes of keeping us on the down-low had already gone up in smoke last week, thanks to his students. We hadn't honestly even tried that hard, so maybe I just needed to let it go. Let the past stay in the past, and step boldly into the future. With Brady.

Starting with Thanksgiving.

"So," I said. "When are you going to invite me to Thanksgiving?"

"Tonight," Brady answered, taking my prompting in stride. "I worried it was too much, too soon."

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