Page 41 of Directing You
Chapter 19
Reid
One year later…
It was opening night, the first time outside of the workshop that anyone would see our show on its feet with full costumes and orchestra. We were at a smaller theater in New Jersey—smaller by New York City standards, but it was also well known by producers as an incubator for Broadway.
I’d done this dozens of times. I didn’t know why I still got so fucking nervous before every opening night. I made my way through the stage door, clutching a bouquet of roses. One of the thorns pierced my finger, and I hissed as I pushed my bleeding finger between my lips, nearly dropping the bouquet to the floor. “Fuck,” I grumbled. I got to Hazel’s dressing room and paused outside the door to listen to her singing scales, warming up her voice.
Warmth surged up to my chest from my belly and I paused, leaning against the doorframe, listening to her voice for an extra moment. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
After a year of dating—the last four months of which we had been living together—I didn’t think I’d ever tire of that sound. I smiled as she finished her scale and lightly tapped my knuckles to the edge where the door met the molding.
“Come in,” she said.
I pushed the door open and slid inside, closing it behind me. Her grin widened when she saw me, and she sighed into my embrace, resting her cheek against my chest.
“It’s finally here. Can you believe it? All that work, the workshop, rehearsals, and you finally did it. Opening night,” she said, pulling back in my arms, but I clutched her tighter, careful not to stab her with the thorny roses.
I didn’t know a relationship could be like this—easy. Hazel and I had a comfort and an ease around each other that just fit in a way that Faith and I never did. Hazel and I were passionate, kind, and we made each other laugh daily. That’s not to say we didn’t have our arguments (we did). But unlike when I was with Faith, I never had a sinking feeling in my gut when a fight started. I always knew that, no matter what, we would reach a conclusion, find understanding and forgiveness.
I inhaled Hazel’s sweet lavender-vanilla scent and dropped my forehead to hers. “Wedid it,” I corrected her. “This show wouldn’t be what it is without you. Withoutanyof the cast and crew, really, but you brought Sister Mary to life.”
She tilted her head to the side and gave me a thoughtful look. “It’s a team effort. But it’s your vision.”
I held up the flowers, offering them to her. “For you. Ignore my blood that’s dripping down the side of the wrapping.” I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers, and her silky hair caught against my stubble as I did so. She hummed in satisfaction against my lips.
She laughed, grabbing my hand first and kissing my cut finger before taking the roses and tearing open the paper cone holding them together. She turned her back to me, arranging the roses in an empty vase on her dressing table. When she sent a quick glance over her shoulder, our eyes connected. I could feel that look of hers slice all the way through me, spilling my heart and soul onto the floor in a puddle at her feet.
I stepped forward, scooping her hair off her shoulder and pressing my hands against the back of her neck, kneading her muscles in firm circles with my thumb.
Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks as she dropped her head back against my chest again and moaned, all the air rushing between her parted scarlet lips. As though my touch made her breathless. God, I hoped it did.
She dropped the roses she had been arranging and they scattered across the table as she turned to face me, curled her arms around my neck, and kissed me hard. Her tongue plunged into my mouth, and fuck me, if she hadn’t already been in costume and full hair and makeup, I would have taken her right here against her lit mirror.
We parted, and this time, I was the breathless one. She panted heavily and reached for something in her makeup bag. It was clutched in her fist and she looked down at her hand, nervously. “I was going to wait until after the show…after the party to talk to you. I know you and Faith were together for a long time before you got engaged. And I know you said that you weren’t even sure if you ever wanted to get engaged again.” She swallowed, pausing, glancing up at me through the threads of her black lashes.
I brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, my brows creasing. I tapped her hand and asked, “What’s this about?” She dropped her gaze to her hands. There was something in her tone that I’d never heard before. I bent to meet her eyes and grinned at her, loving the way she nervously nibbled her bottom lip. “What we have, Hazel…it’s nothing like what I had with Faith. I would marry you tomorrow if you were ready.”
Her gaze jerked to mine. “What?”
I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it and dropping to one knee in front of her. “Hazel Stone, I didn’t think I’d ever find love again. I didn’t think I was worthy of the sort of love you’ve shown me. I know I said I’d want a long engagement if I were to ever propose again, but the truth is…I just want you. However you’ll take me. If that means we’re engaged for ten years until you’re ready, I’ll take that. If it means you want to fly to Vegas tonight, I’ll take that. As long as I getyouin the end.”
She swallowed, tears brimming in her eyes, and slowly her clenched fist opened, revealing a simple titanium band in her palm. “I was going to askyouto marryme.” She laughed, covering her mouth with her free hand. “You’re always ruining my plans, Bradley!” She moved to smack me on the shoulder, but I caught her hand, tugging the simple square-cut diamond from the box and sliding it halfway up her knuckle.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded, one tear spilling over the edge of her eye. “Yes.” I slid the ring on the rest of the way and stood, kissing her hard. “On one condition,” she whispered. “Vegas is too far, and we have another show tomorrow night.” She paused, showing me the ring she’d been holding. “Let’s drive to Atlantic City…tonight. After the show.”
I lifted her in my arms, kissing her again, diving my tongue between her lips and exploring her mouth.
“Do you want to invite anyone?” I asked as I lowered her back to her feet.
“Just Rosa,” she said. “And what about you? Any best man you want to bring?”
I didn’t even have to think about it before I answered, “Noah Tripp. He’s the whole reason we’re together in the first place.”
She rolled her eyes playfully at that. “I guess I can forgive him, finally.”
There was a knock at the door, and Hazel yelled for them to come in. Max, the stage manager, poked his head inside. “Places,” he said, grinning just as nervously as Hazel was.
I brushed my lips against hers, gently this time. Thank God for her indestructible lipstick. “But first…before we do anything, you have to go break a leg tonight.”
“I will,” she said, squeezing my hand and sliding the ring off her finger, tucking it safely into its velvet box. “But Sister Mary would not be engaged.”
She winked and strolled past me to get into her spot on stage for the start of the show, and I slipped out into the audience to take my seat for opening night. How lucky was I that I got to watch the making of a star? I got to see her blossom into the Tony-winner I knew she would someday be.
And I got to marry her. Tonight.
