Page 32 of She's the Star

“Umm, no?”

She chuckles. “That wasn’t exactly reassuring.”

“My parents never married, and they made it work. If you want to be nothing but co-parents, then that’s what you should be.” Shit. I mentioned my parents. I never do that. Why did I do that?

She still isn’t looking at me, so she has no idea that I need her to respond so I can stop panicking that she’ll ask about them. Luckily, she sighs and says, “I can’t reconcile with Teddy.”

“In that case, until you meet someone you’re truly interested in or until Teddy accepts that it’s over between you two, we’ll pretend.”

Her expression turns serious. “You mean it? You’ll be my fake boyfriend when Teddy is around?”

“Yep.” I don’t even hesitate.

“Okay. Wow. That’s great.” She smiles and I feel it everywhere. “Let’s talk logistics. I’ll have to tell Mina. And Brian. But we’ll only have to pretend when Teddy’s around.”

It seems like he only comes around for a few hours a week, and the tour starts soon, so it shouldn’t be too strenuous. “Got it.”

“Thank you.” The words are soft and heartfelt.

“No problem.” I nod steadily. There might be more plans we need to make, but we shouldn’t see Teddy for a couple of days at least, so they can wait. “Maddy is asleep so I’m going to head out. I’ll see you in the morning?”

I rise to my feet, and she reaches out and squeezes my hand. Her touch feels different somehow, like we’re connected. I return the squeeze and let my thumb drag across hers before I release it and say, “See you tomorrow.”

ELEVEN

AMBER

Monday starts with an eight o’clock meeting with Brian and doesn’t slow down. I’m so busy that I barely have time to think about Teddy or Nolan or the potential foolishness of faking a relationship with one person to deter another.

I don’t see Nolan much, only briefly in the morning before I dash out of the house and then again in the evening when I return from rehearsals. During those times we discuss Maddy and her needs. There isn’t any residual weirdness to our interactions for which I’m insanely grateful.

Maddy wakes up an uncharacteristic three times during the night on Tuesday, so I’m exhausted by the end of rehearsals the next day. Traffic is awful on the way back to the house and I have to text Nolan to let him know I’ll be late. He responds with an adorable picture of Maddy snoozing in her stroller. I’m wishing I was already home when my phone starts ringing.

I answer and spend the remainder of the drive on a voice call with my two dance captains. We only have one more day of rehearsals and I want to be sure to address any concerns they have.

It’s six twenty-two when we pull through the front gates. The magnitude of being late on this particular night hits me about two seconds before I spot Teddy’s car.

As soon as we come to a stop, I wrench open the door and fly into the house.

“Nolan? Teddy? Hello?” Nothing but silence answers me as I kick off my shoes.

I keep moving, my gaze darting left and right. The hallway, the kitchen, the main room, all empty. I pull open the closest sliding door and immediately hear Nolan’s low baritone. Following the noise, I charge outside to find the two men sitting on lounge chairs with the stroller parked between them. They both look relaxed, but they can’t be enjoying themselves.

“Hey guys,” I say brightly, waving at them to try to cover my panic. “Sorry I’m late.”

Teddy raises his brow and Nolan smiles hesitantly. I make a hasty decision, cross the patio, and drop onto Nolan’s lap. He grunts quietly at the impact as his hands reach out and grip my waist. I can feel the imprint of every single finger through the thin fabric of my leggings and I register the surprised expression on his face as I lean against his chest.

“I missed you,” I say before pressing my mouth to his.

I intend it to be casual, a nonchalant show of affection, but as soon as our lips touch, I realize my miscalculation. His lips are warm and firm, and they soften under the pressure of mine. I mean to pull away, but his grip tightens, and he sighs. It’s the sound of anticipation or surrender or something deeper. I can’t quite name it, but I like it and I want more.

Instead of retreating, my lips mold themselves to his and the tightly leashed desire that pulses between us staggers me. I kissed him intending to prove that we were dating, but now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop. I thread my hands into his short hair and trace his bottom lip with my tongue. He trembles, and then starts kissing me back. I feel even bolder now that I have his active participation. He kisses me like he’s been waiting forever to feel my lips on his. I’m perched in his lap at an awkward angle and I can’t get as close as I want, so I hitch my knee higher and break the kiss so I can shift to straddle him.

The lack of contact between our lips fragments the moment and forces me to remember where we’re at.

In my backyard.

Not alone.

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