Page 45 of The Uncomplicated Café
He couldn’t be certain in the amber-tinted glow of the porch light, but she almost looked flushed. “Toto, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not.” She tore her attention from his naked torso to meet his gaze. “How could you do this to me?” she hissed, waving his script in his face. “There’s no ending, Jayce. No ending!”
“You read it already?” He’d expected her to wait until tomorrow.
“Of course I did! I’ve been waiting my whole life to read your first screenplay. And it’s brilliant, by the way.” Her adorable, indignant whisper contrasted comically with her compliment. Plus, he found it endearing that even in her outrage, she didn’t want to disturb Evan asleep in the other room. Could she be any cuter?
Jayce couldn’t help a smile. “Thanks. What did you like about it?”
“Uh-uh. No way. You don’t get any more praise until you give me the missing pages.” She shoved the script against his chest, and the fleeting sensation of her fingertips against his bare skin sent a shock wave through his body.
The brief contact seemed to catch her off guard, too. She snapped her hands back and rubbed her palms down her thighs—shapely thighs clad in tiny cotton shorts. Jayce swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat.
“Un-unless,” she stammered, averting her gaze. “The lack of ending was some artistic choice. And, in that case, may I implore you to rethink your decision? I—I mean, theaudience,” she corrected, “needs an ending.”
“You’re right. What do you think the ending should be?’
“Me?” She balked. “I—I don’t know. You’re the writer.”
“And you’re my best friend. I want your opinion. Do you think Chloe should choose love?” The second he asked her the question, an uncontrollable desperation clawed its way up his chest, like a caged animal unleashed. He wanted CeCe more than he’d wanted anything in his life. How could he continue to fight his feelings for her? It was too exhausting, too daunting. He silently begged her to say,Choose love, as if her words would somehow give him permission to risk a lifetime of friendship for a statistical shot in the dark. A shot in the dark he suddenly yearned to take.
He instinctively moved toward her, spanning the distance between them.
She inched backward, pinned against the doorjamb.
Compelled beyond rational thought, he bridged the gap until they stood toe to toe. “What should she choose?” he repeated in a raspy murmur, fighting for self-control.
She tilted her head to look up at him, light reflecting off her lenses.
He’d always loved her glasses, the alluring way they framed her beautiful eyes. But tonight, they felt like a barrier between them. His fingers itched to lift them from her face, but he didn’t get the chance.
“I wish I knew,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor.
Her disheartened tone snapped reality back into focus. He’d let his emotions push him too far across the line. He needed distance. Two a.m. wasn’t the time to make life-altering decisions.
“Me, too.” He backed away. “I’ll figure it out before Friday, though. Maybe I’ll have her wake up and realize it was all a dream.” He attempted a rueful grin.
“Keep workshopping that idea.” She met his grin with a shaky smile. “Whatever you decide, I look forward to reading it.” After an awkward pause, followed by a clumsily exchanged goodbye, she slipped outside, quietly shutting the door behind her.
Great. He’d made her uncomfortable. Or at the very least, confused by his odd behavior. He couldn’t keep doing this, pushing the boundaries, cutting it too close.
After the award ceremony on Friday, when Stacey and Rob jet off to Italy to elope, he’d call it quits. They’d announce their breakup, and he’d take a vacation somewhere far, far away.
All he had to do was make it through the rest of the week without doing something rash, then things could return to normal. He’d lasted this long without kissing her. What were a few more days?
“You should’ve kissed her.” The groggy voice broke through his resolved reverie.
He turned to find Evan in the doorway of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.
“Sorry.” His friend flashed a sleepy, sheepish grin. “I heard voices and caught the tail end of your conversation.”
Fantastic.Just what he needed. “It’s not what you think.”
“I think you need to work on your acting skills. Even in the dark, I can see you’re a lost cause.” Evan sank onto a creaking rattan chair and kicked his feet onto the coffee table. “Why don’t you man up and tell CeCe how you feel?”
“It’s not that simple.” Jayce collapsed onto the couch, too tired to maintain his denial.
“Who said anything about simple? Tell me, how many things in life that are actually worth doing are eversimple?”
