The Final Act (29 page)

He stopped walking, grabbed her other arm and turned her to face him. “Look, if you’re hoping to see Michael, don’t expect him at the Medallion. He doesn’t go out with the group much. You should just call and tell him you’re in town. I know he’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“It’s too hard. If I’d accidentally run into him here that would be one thing, but calling is like…”

“Like making the first move? Like admitting maybe you were wrong when you’d rather make it all his fault?”

She glared and pouted. “Stop being insightful. I hate it when you do that.”

“Believe me, you’ll feel a lot better getting it out there. You guys really need to talk.”

He gave her directions to the bar and a hug before leaving.

After Denny was gone, Elena walked onto the dimly lit stage already re-set to the first scene for tomorrow’s performance. She sprawled on the ratty couch and picked up the textbook from the coffee table, assuming her pose with the book open on her lap.

She looked toward the window where Michael normally stood—and suddenly there he was, entering from stage left with his head down, looking for something on the floor. He was so dear and familiar. Every moment they’d spent together, every argument they’d had, every time they’d sung or danced together, and every time they’d made love washed over her in a flood. She wanted them back—all those precious moments. She wanted him with every cell in her body.

“Michael?”

His head snapped up, shaggy bangs falling across his wide-open eyes. He froze and for several long moments simply stared at her before he whispered, “Elena?”

The book fell from her lap as she rose from the couch.

“Elena.” Her name was a breath of sound, a caress, a sigh of relief. It sounded exactly the way Aaron murmured, “Kathleen”.

She walked toward him. “I saw the show tonight. It was great.
You
were—”

Michael surged toward her, sweeping her into his arms and covering her mouth with his, cutting off her words.

Closing her eyes, she clutched his shirt, her mouth opening to his hard kiss. His smell and taste and the familiar hard planes of his body filled her senses. Her chest ached and unshed tears stung her eyes.

After he’d kissed her until her lips tingled, Michael released her mouth and pulled away long enough to gasp, “You’re here.”

“Yeah.” Wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, she buried her face against his shoulder.

“Missed you so much.” His arms tightened around her body, making her ribs creak. “I never should’ve let you go so easy.” He pulled away to cup her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes, which glistened as he looked into hers. “I should have told you I love you.”

“Love me?” She couldn’t look away from his shining eyes and she could barely breathe, her heart was so full of emotion.

“Yes.” He bent his head and kissed her, a soft brush of lips that burned as hot as a brand. “It was easier to close off and act like I didn’t care than to put myself out there. I should have called, written, emailed. Hell, even Jake was smart enough to know that. But I couldn’t think of what I’d say, how I’d tell you…”

“That you love me.” She loved the way those words sounded and wanted to hear him say them again.

“Yeah. That.” His thumb traced her mouth, and then his hands drifted down her neck to settle on her shoulders.

“And missed me,” she prompted.

He smiled.

“And wished you’d asked me to stay.”

“No.” Michael shook his head. A small frown creased his forehead. “I would never have asked you to give up that opportunity, but I should have been supportive and willing to work at a long distance relationship.”

“I told you that!” Elena threaded her fingers through his thick, silky hair and tugged hard. “If you’d listened to me, we could have saved all this trouble.”

“I’m a guy. Had to learn the hard way.” He dropped his hands to her waist and tugged her close. “Sorry.” He nuzzled her neck, sending delicious tickles shimmering through her.

“My fault, just as much,” she mumbled, her eyes glazing over as he kissed along the ridge of her collarbones. “Instead of telling you how I really felt, I got upset and broke up with you. Stupid! I thought I’d get over you, but I miss you more every day. I love you, too.”

Michael abandoned her neck and straightened to look at her. The contrast of tears glittering in his eyes and the huge smile on his face was mesmerizing. Would the tears fall or the laughter come bubbling out first?

“No shit?” His response was so typical of him that she wanted to hug and kick him both.

“No shit,” she confirmed.

He kissed her again, his lips warm and firm against hers. His tongue slipped between her lips and curled around hers. When he pulled away this time, tears trickled down his cheeks.

He wiped his hand over them and examined the wetness like it was poison leaking from his skin. “Fuck!” He looked from the tears on his fingers to Elena. “It’s not acting.”

“It never was.” She couldn’t stop smiling she was so damn happy. “Admit it. Underneath the Mr. Cool exterior you’re a big, schmoopy, emotional baby.”

He glared at her. “Thanks. I think.”

She snuggled close, rubbing her stomach against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Emotional guys are sexy. Women love it.”

“Stop calling me ‘emotional’. You’re draining away my masculinity,” he complained, giving a little grind against her that proved it wasn’t true.

It was so comfortable, so easy to return to their teasing banter. Michael challenged her, irritated her and thrilled her like no one else. She wanted to pull him down with her onto the couch right then and there and fuck him hard.

Once more he kissed her, his hands smoothing her tangled hair and traveling the length of her back to hold her ass. In the middle of the darkened stage in front of the empty house, they kissed and kissed as though they’d just discovered it and needed to try every angle, every approach.

Elena’s skin was damp and flushed, her breathing ragged and her body achingly aroused when they finally pulled apart.

“Where?” she gasped and nodded toward the couch. “Right there?”

Michael’s brows shot up. “Seriously?”

Elena paused, considering. “No, of course, not, but we have to find someplace fast. I can’t wait. It’s been too long.”

His eyes glittered with lust, but he kissed her lips gently before answering. “I want you too, but let’s take it slow. We’ll go back to my room and act like we have all the time in the world instead of just a few hours. I want to really make love to you tonight, not just grab a quickie.”

A secret romantic. I knew it!
Elena smiled and smoothed her hands over his shoulders. “Sounds good to me.”

At the party celebrating the close of the show, Michael sipped his beer and listened to people’s memories and future plans, glad to have absolutely nothing planned for himself except a solid week of sleep, followed by a flight to Toronto to spend time with Elena before the end of her shoot. Afterward he’d worry about lining up another job and an apartment.

Transitions
had ended its first national tour in Detroit after playing two hundred eighteen performances in ten cities. A second company had already begun a tour of smaller cities.

Logan raised his beer mug. “To everyone’s future success.”

“And to all the family and friends who put up with our crazy life,” Denny added.

Everyone murmured agreement. There was no one whose relationships hadn’t been affected from the long time spent on the road.

Looking around the table at the familiar faces, a wistful, melancholy feeling came over him. Would he actually miss these people? As the entire group shouted the punch line to one of Logan’s oft-repeated jokes, he smiled. Hell yeah, he’d miss them. They were family, only closer than his had ever been.

In an uncharacteristically sentimental mood, he cleared his throat. When no one looked up, Michael shouted to get their attention.

“Hey. I’d, uh, like to make a toast, too. To all of us, let’s remember what we created together, the great work we did and the friendships we made.” He flushed as he choked a little. Damn, Elena was right. He was a big, emotional baby.

He raised his beer mug. “To us.”

“To us,” the company echoed.

Epilogue: Curtain Call

Jake stumbled and almost dropped the box he was carrying up two flights to his new apartment in an old neighborhood in Cleveland. He rested the carton on the stairs for a few moments and leaned against the wall. Only a few more trips should finish the job. He didn’t own much. He’d never imagined moving to Ohio, yet here he was, all because Gretchen had asked him out for a cup of coffee one day.

One evening near the end of the show’s run, Jake had been putting his guitar in its case after a performance when he heard a soft voice behind him. “Hey, Jake.”

His heart leaped to his mouth as he turned to face Gretchen, still in costume, standing before him in the orchestra pit.

“How are you?” she asked.

He nodded, unable to form words.

“I wondered if…I mean, would you like to go out for coffee?”

“With you.”

Her smile was so warm and sweet, it hurt.

“Yes, with me.”

“Yes.” He’d smiled back at her, the swelling hope inside him actually making his stomach twist. Love was painful.

The coffee had led to a dinner date and other evenings together. Sometimes they went out. Sometimes they stayed in, watched a movie or just talked. They moved forward at a snail’s pace, carefully feeling their way into this new relationship. Friendship, Gretchen called it, but Jake knew he could never be just a friend to her. He would always adore her, love her desperately, even if they never progressed beyond occasionally holding hands.

When the show ended, Jake feared their tentative new bond might be destroyed and he would lose her again. Gretchen announced her plan to move to Cleveland where she had a line on a job in a local theater. The show and the venue weren’t Broadway big, but she’d be close enough to visit her family when she wanted to and still have some of the opportunities a big city offered.

“Would you consider it stalking if I moved there, too?” Jake had asked as they sat at a table in a diner sipping lukewarm coffee. “I don’t have anything to get back to in New York, and I want to keep working on whatever this is between us.” He’d attempted to look casual, not wanting to frighten her with the intensity of his need to hear her say yes.

“You’d move to Cleveland to be near me? That’s…” She reached across the table to cover his hand. “That doesn’t sound stalker-y. It’s sweet.”

“All right then. I’ll find a gig in Cleveland.”

And that was how he came to be hauling boxes up two flights of stairs in a strange city where he didn’t even have a job yet.

“Hey, you’ve got a pretty good view up here,” Gretchen called down the stairs. “There’s a park across the street, kids playing on swing sets, a duck pond. It’s nice.”

“Cool.” Lifting the unwieldy box, he staggered up the last few steps and into the apartment. He dropped the box on the living room floor and went to stand at the kitchen window behind Gretchen. Her hair smelled sweet and fruity.

She turned to look into his eyes. “Cleveland’s hardly New York. Are you sure you want to be here?”

“I have nothing there.” He gazed into her blue eyes.
But I might have everything here
.

Smiling, Gretchen reached up and caressed his cheek. “Well, I’m glad you came with me. It’ll be nice knowing someone in Cleveland.” She paused. “I’m not saying you’re some kind of security blanket because I’m living in a strange city. I meant I’m glad you’re here, because I’m not ready to let this go yet.” She gestured back and forth between them.

“Me, either.” His voice grew huskier, and his gaze settled on her mouth.

Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, before she rose up to meet him. Her mouth brushed his then pressed more firmly. It was warm and soft, and Jake sank into the kiss like an exhausted man dropping into bed at the end of a long, hard day.

His arms went around her back, pulling her close, and he kissed her deeply, trying to tell her without words how much he loved her. But not using words had been his trouble last time, so after a moment he pulled away and murmured, “I love you.”

She smiled. “I know. But it’s good to hear it.” Wrapping her arms around him, she rested her head on his chest. God, her weight and warmth pressed against him felt so good.

He rested his cheek on her hair and closed his eyes. Maybe someday she’d say the words back to him. If she did, he’d accept them gladly. He was ready for the challenge of love, ready to believe he deserved it, and he’d stick around as long as Gretchen would let him, proving that this was the right place for him to be.

“What are you wearing?” Michael asked as he worked open the top button on his fly.

“Do you want to know what I’m really wearing, or my fantasy outfit?” Elena asked with a lilt of laughter in her voice.

“Real then fantasy,” he said.

“Sweats and a T-shirt.” The voice on the phone grew sultry as she lowered it and spoke in a sexy drawl. “But actually I have on a long, gauzy peignoir over a flowing, red satin nightgown.”

“I’m confused. Which is supposed to be the fantasy, the sweats or the nightgown?”

“The nightgown, of course!” Innuendo dissipated as she scolded him.

He grinned and stretched out on the bed, gazing at the closed blinds, but imagining Elena. “A corset and garter belt and nothing else is sexier.”

“You’re such a guy. Shut up and listen. I’m very glamorous tonight. My hair is piled high and I have diamonds in my ears and around my neck. The nightgown is a slip style, and underneath it I have nothing on. The silky material swishes against my naked skin every time I move. It feels like your fingers stroking my body.”

Michael’s cock stirred. He unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers to let his erection spring free. He wrapped his hand around it and rubbed.

“The gown is slit up the front almost to the top of my thighs. I lay back on my bed and it falls open to reveal my bare legs. The nightgown pushes up higher as I scoot to the edge of the bed and you see a flash of pussy.”