Page 63 of Not Another Love Song

She’d kissed his cheek, for god’s sake.

Gwen pressed her lips together, savoring the memory. And then she jumped, pulling her phone to check the camera for the rose-colored lipstick she’d applied.

And unapplied, and reapplied.

She’d decided on simple makeup with only lipstick; hair up, but messy. Like the lipstick was an afterthought. Like, no big deal, it’s just lipstick, you know? Everybody just chill.

She’d added a selfie to her story that morning, feeling the sudden urge to post more pics to her Instagram, especially after the rampage she’d gone on Sunday morning, deleting all pictures of funny faces or hideous prom dresses that she and Jacob had shopped for five years ago.

Tugging the door to the rehearsal room open, she choked on her air when she saw Alex already there, laughing with one of the other cellists. Twenty minutes early.

He didn’t look over at her. In fact, his back was to the door, his cello case propped open and his sheet music ready. She scurried to her chair, waving hello to a few piccolos, and dropping her bag in front of her stand, laying her violin case down. It was only then that she noticed the cup.

An iced latte sat next to her chair leg, sweating onto the floor. Scratched in Sharpie on the side was the name “Gwen.” She blinked down at it, still bent over from opening her case.

Alex laughed at something in his conversation, and the sound rattled her ribs. Xander. She needed to call him Xander.

She picked up the cup and wrapped straw placed next to it. A “V” decorated the label, meaning…an iced vanilla latte. Her exact order from the café where they’d had their interview last week.

Gwen sat in her chair, looking around for gossips and nosy neighbors as she punctured the lid and sipped. She stared at his back, enjoying the dark green Henley he’d chosen today and sipping merrily on her latte.

More orchestra members filed in as the clock ticked closer to ten, but still he focused only on his conversation. Something about CrossFit or Whole30 or some other bullshit Gwen was in no way ready to commit to.

He never looked at her once. When Nathan finally called the beginning of rehearsal and everyone took their seats, Gwen was twitching in her chair. But that was possibly the caffeine she’d just gulped down.

Xander dropped into his chair, pushed his hair away from his face, and as he bent to grab his cello, his eyes slid up to her through his waves. Her lips pulled tight around the straw as her gaze locked on him. He smirked and turned to give his full attention to Nathan.

On Thursday, he approached her at the snacks table. He hadn’t spoken to her during Wednesday’s rehearsal, leaving her alone during breaks and keeping his eyes off her for most of the day. But today, Gwen was twitchy. She jumped at the slightest movement of his body across from her, not having the espresso to blame this time. So, at their first ten-minute break of the day, she rose from her chair and went in search of a packet of chamomile tea.

“Good morning.”

The teabag flew from her fingers, jerking through the air and hitting a broad chest next to her. It flopped to the table, and Gwen snatched it up. “Sorry. Yes, good morning. Hi.”

He said nothing else as she dropped it into the cup of hot water. They watched it steep. Then—

“Calming blend.”

Her eyes scanned to the label on the tea packet. “Mm-hm. I need to…decaffeinate today.” She bit her lip. “Oh…I mean”— she jerked her gaze up to him—“coffee is wonderful, though. Um, especially lattes.” His eyes darkened and danced over her face. “I really, really like vanilla iced lattes. So, um…”

“Hm. That’s what you were drinking yesterday, yeah?” A smile tugged at his lips.

“Yes, I…I was very grateful to have it.” She swallowed and watched him reach for a Styrofoam cup. “It was perfect. For a Wednesday.”

“But Thursdays are for tea,” he said, nodding at her cup.

“I guess so.”

He poured coffee into his cup and turned to face her. “What are Fridays for?”

She looked up at him as he gave her his entire focus. She reached for her cup for something to hold onto and her fingers overshot, knocking it over, hot chamomile tea spilling over the cookies and down onto the floor. She jumped back, apologizing, grabbing for napkins, and spending the rest of the break helping the rehearsal assistant clean up as her face burned.

It went like that for a while. She was hyper-aware of every little thing he did, while he seemed to have mellowed considerably. Like he’d been drowning, and had finally found air. She wondered if it was her turn to drown. She felt like she was back in high school, unsure what to do with herself when Ronnie Schultz was around, completely overwhelmed with how much she wanted him.

And worst of all, Alex knew that, just like Ronnie had. Alex knew there was a possibility now. Not tonight. So when?

The next concert was the weekend of Halloween. The theme was Disney Villains—a direct ploy for more ticket sales—and she had her first violin solo at the Manhattan Pops in “Friends on the Other Side.”

Her article in the orchestral magazine had come out the week before, and Ava let her know that ticket sales had spiked just after.

---