Page 80 of Character Flaws
The knot in my stomach grows into a grapefruit size ball of anxiety. Now I know why directors drink so heavily. Or do drugs. Aside from a glass of whisky and my little solo drunken night last weekend, I’ve not touched the stuff since.
The tension is getting to me to the point where when I walked out of the theater last night and caught Marlon and Carla sharing a joint, I was seriously considering joining them. But I ended up just picking up take-out and heading back to the apartment.
The only thing that might help me unwind at this point is a good fuck.
As if Birdie can read my thoughts, she slinks up behind me where I hover over the director’s table, looking over all my notes, scripts, stage manager line-note and schedules lined up across the surface. I’ve been trying to organize all my thoughts for the last hour, but keep getting sidetracked when I see Joey.
My body jolts as Birdie aligns her lithe frame behind me, her hand finding its way between my…holy shit! My ass crease.
“Whoa there,” I pump my hips forward to move her hand out of my butt crack. “Birdie, we talked about this.”
My stage whisper can only be heard by her, I hope. She snickers – either a devious tone or something akin to seductive – and then her hand lands at the base of my neck. She strokes the hairline with her fingers, and I instinctively shudder. Not from sexual tension, but from queasiness.
Warm breath fans across my cheek as she leans in and murmurs into my ear.
“Theo, I’ve been so patient. And I can tell you’re strung tight as a whip. We’re almost wrapped up here and I want you to fuck me. It’d do us both some good.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and think. If I’ve learned one thing about myself, it’s that I will not be cajoled or manipulated by women who are overly assertive. That’s how I got myself wrapped up with Alyssa.
Time to stand up and act like a man.
I have to tell her no, but need to be careful with my reasons. I still don’t want anyone to know about me and Joey – even if we’re done, I don’t need that to cloud anyone’s perception of her. I want Birdie to know I’m not interested in her because of her.
“Birdie, as you can see, I’m really busy here. I don’t have time for anything like that.”
She doesn’t get the hint.
Her fingers glide down my arm, nails twirling through the wispy light hair on my forearms. I jerk my arm back in a childlike huff.
Then she turns to face my side and literally shoves her breasts into my arm and shimmies, as if I’m some sort of stripper pole.
Eww. I feel so violated.
I look around to see if anyone can see us. The stage lights are on and it’s dark in the theater where we’re set up. All the cast is either in the back going through their costume changes, final fittings or make-up. And I’m stuck trying to ward off a crazed sex-fiend.
“Theo, baby. You’re so tense. I can take care of that for you, you know. Go back into your dressing room, lock the door and I could suck you off. You’ll forget all about the stress. I promise.”
I tip my head down to see her hand covering my crotch. Thank God my dick doesn’t betray me by getting hard. It knows better than to get excited over Birdie’s proposition. She’s not who I want and my dick is smart enough to know it.
I shove her hand away, becoming angrier and more irritated with her aggressive behavior.
“Stop it, Birdie. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
Grabbing for a stack of notes, I lean over the table and she grabs my arm.
“Are you fucking her?” she drawls out the her and points her chin toward Joey, who is on stage now speaking with the stage manager.
When my gaze lands on Joey, I find her staring down at me, narrowing her eyes on Birdie’s hand and the proximity of her body next to mine.
Shit.Things are bad enough between us right now. I don’t want her getting the wrong impression that there’s something going on with me and Birdie.
I call out her name. “Joey, can I have a word with you?”
Roger, the stage manager, looks my way and holds up a finger indicating he just needs another minute. That’s fine. It gives me a chance to make my way back to the office where I’ll wait for Joey.
Passing in front of Birdie, I glance back over my shoulder where Birdie seethes in pent up anger. Not my problem or my fault.
“Birdie, it was never going to happen with us. I’m sorry.”
And then I walk down the hallway hoping to have a few private moments with Joey before we begin the full dress rehearsal.
I just need a way to explain myself so maybe she’ll see a way to forgive me.
What’s the worst that can happen?
