If it were any other man, I’d probably be on the edge right now. I’d be overwhelmed by the blurry memories from the Saturday night that changed my life forever.
But with Silver, I don’t feel afraid at all. I’m nervous, that’s true, but it’s due to how good I feel around him. How much I like being with him. Not because he makes me fearful. I’ve never felt safer around a man before.
“I wanted to talk to you too,” he admits as I sit down on his couch and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Do you think maybe…” I pull my script from my bag. “Maybe we could practice for Friday? My final audition’s coming up, and I thought we could run lines in person this time?”
“Uh, alright. Sure, if it’ll help. You want something to drink first? Coke? Water?”
I smirk, trying to break the tension. “I’ll take some whiskey.”
He stops midstep toward the kitchen, then pins me with a stare that’s pure dad-mode disapproval, brows raised and mouth set in a line.
I can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of me. “Kidding! God, I’m kidding, Silver. Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson. I probably won’t be drinking again for a long time... if ever.”
The memory of that night, the ketamine, Kel’s weight on me, the burning pain—it flashes through my head, and I have to swallow hard to keep from breaking apart.
Silver’s noticed, sympathy and protectiveness flashing across his stern face. I quickly seek to change the subject back to something light.
“Water would be nice though,” I say. “Thanks.”
He disappears into the kitchen while I glance around his living room, taking in the details. His place is nice but not in a try-hard way.
Leather couches fill the space along with end tables that have framed photos of his kids, Jack and Tabby. There’s a massive flat screen TV that has bachelor written all over it. Hardwood floors he’s half covered with an area rug.
It’s clean and simple and relaxed.
“I like your house,” I call out. “Very homey vibe for a bachelor pad.”
He comes back with two glasses of water, his lips spread in a half grin. “Did my best to put it together. I was so used to Rachel handling that kinda stuff for the twenty years we were married, took me forever to figure out what’s minimalist style versus farmhouse and all the other crap.”
I laugh, genuinely this time. “I don’t even know the difference.”
He sits across from me, maintaining noticeable distance. His eyes search my face and provoke another flutter of nerves out of me.
“So you said something about practicing for your audition?”
“Yeah, it’s this Friday,” I say, clutching the script like a lifeline. “Would you mind practicing with me? It’s for a scene between Moonshine and Magnolia.”
“Alright, but not sure I’ll be a convincing Magnolia,” he says, then he winks at me, a hint of amusement in his blue-eyed gaze.
I smirk back at him. “Then I’ll go easy on you and let you be Moonshine. You know, themalepart.”
“Either way, not everybody’s a big-time talented actress like you. So keep your expectations low.”
My cheeks warm at the compliment.
We start the scene—it’s one of the most intense moments in the play. Moonshine’s leaving for the army, having never told Magnolia he enlisted.
It’s a scene full of deep betrayal and hurt, but most of all, the burning love and passion between them.
I slip into Magnolia’s Southern accent, immersing myself in the pain she feels. “You didn’t think to tell me? All this time, planning to leave, and you couldn’t say a single word?”
“Uh… where are we? Right, found it,” he says, looking down at the script. His eyes shift as he reads the lines, then he clears his throat and gives his best Moonshine. “Magnolia, it ain’t like that?—”
“Then what’s it like?” I ask with a waver to my voice. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you made your choice without thinking of me at all.”
“You know that’s not true.”
