Page 97 of The Fadeaway
I grab a second coffee and fill as I ask, “What were you thinking about me for?”
“Brody and I wanted to make sure you were going to make it tomorrow night for the costume fittings. They should have the backdrops ready then too. God, I can’t believe the show is so soon.”
“Cream or sugar?”
She shakes her head and I place the cups on the counter and secure lids on them. “Of course. I am beyond excited. It’s already so much more than I could have dreamed.”
I’m ringing up her coffees when University Hall breaks out in applause and cheers. Looking toward the door, I see him. He’s wearing a Valley basketball t-shirt and athletic pants that show off sexy ankles – yes, sexy ankles. It’s a thing. A Joel Moreno thing.
People crowd around him, pat his back and say things I can’t make out. He takes it all in stride, smiling and thanking people but not stopping as he walks from the door to the counter. I hear Tabitha chuckle as I hand her card back without looking.
“Speaking of dreams coming true,” she says to me and then looks to Joel. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” His gaze falls back to me and he smiles. “Hi, Kitty.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you and Christian last night. Wondering what you were doing and wishing I could celebrate by eating pizza and seeing that picture little man drew me.”
Tabitha grabs one of the coffees and takes a sip, which draws Joel’s attention to the fact we have an audience.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” she says. “Or the other fifty people hanging on your every word.”
He chuckles and then jumps the counter. My mouth feels like I swallowed sand and I open to say something, ask what he’s doing, or maybe I should just kiss the ridiculous smirk off his face like I really want. But I’m incapable of doing any of those things. The look he gives me reaches in and simultaneously tugs at my heart and excites my lady parts.
“I think you’re holding up the line, Joel Moreno.” Like I care.
“Coffee’s on me,” he says loud enough they can hear, but first –
I’m watching his mouth, waiting for the sweet words I’m sure are coming when his lips crash down on mine.
Hard. Cocky. Possessive.
For half a second, I consider where I am – at freaking work with a line of people, but when his tongue sweeps in and he grabs the back of my thighs to pick me up and bring me closer, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him like I want to.
Like I’ve wanted to since the day he first walked into this café.
It’s only when I feel his mouth pull into a smile against mine that I realize we’re not just being watched, we’re being cheered on.
He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine. “Might as well get used to it, Kitty. If we’re going to be together, PDA is a requirement. No way I can keep my hands and lips to myself when I’m around you, no matter where we are.”
“Ifwe’re going to be together?” My voice quivers.
He nods and sets me down, takes my hands and looks into my eyes. He has this way of looking from eye to eye like he wants to unravel the mystery of each iris – like each color has its own secrets to tell. “I love you. I love Christian. Give me a second chance to show what a baller boyfriend I can be?”
“Better say yes, or I will,” Tabitha says.
“Me too,” someone else yells.
Joel threads our fingers together, pulls me to him. “What do you say, Kitty? Go out with me?”
I say yes, like I wanted to from the first time he asked.
41
Joel
The Tragic LoveStory of Hector and Imelda’s opening night performance closes to a standing ovation. Christian and I are in the front row along with Blair and Gabby and a bunch of Katrina’s screenwriting friends. Katrina's family and the entire Moreno clan are coming tomorrow to the Friday night finale and I’ll be right back here where I belong, watching Kitty become a star. The number of people coming to see the screenwriter probably outweighs the number for the actors and that makes me so happy. My girl has worked so hard and she nailed it.
