22
“Hi,” Sophie said, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep from reaching for Jules. This was torture. Avoiding her was torture. Talking to her was torture. When would it get easier?
“Hi,” Jules said with an awkward smile that said she felt the same way. She looked good, though. The color was back in her cheeks, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that had been missing last week when she was sick. And then there was the way she was staring at Sophie, like she was some kind of forbidden treat, one Jules really wished she could indulge in.
Sophie cleared her throat. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
“I am,” Jules said with a nod. “All better.”
“I’m glad.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Sophie’s feet seemed rooted to the floor, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. Was this what it would be like for them now? If so, she hated it. She hated it so much, but she was determined to do what she could to keep things friendly between them.
“How was your visit with your mom?” she asked.
Jules’s expression softened. “It was great. Thanks for asking.”
Another lengthy pause descended between them. They seemed to have lost their ability to engage in casual conversation, and maybe that was the saddest thing of all.
“Well, I’ll see you on stage, then,” Sophie said, backing out of her dressing room.
“See you.” Jules crossed the room to sit at her makeup table.
Sophie walked down the hall feeling like she’d been punched in the gut. She wanted to ask Jules everything. She wanted to know how it felt to sing her solo up there in front of a sold-out crowd, what it was like to sign playbills at the stage door. Was it everything she’d dreamed of? Sophie wanted to catch up on everything she’d missed. She wanted to lose herself in the welcome warmth of Jules’s body. Oh God, how she wanted…
“Earth to Sophie.”
She looked up to see Tabitha standing in front of her. “Sorry.”
“Daydreaming about your new job?” Tabitha asked. “Can’t say I’m not jealous.”
“More like…thinking about Jules.” She closed the door to their dressing room behind her and dropped onto the couch with her face in her hands.
“Uh-oh.” Tab sat on the couch beside her. “What happened?”
“We broke up, since I’m moving to Syracuse.”
“Ah, shit. That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Now everything is awkward, and I hate it.” Sophie made a face.
“That’s the problem with dating someone you work with,” Tabitha said sympathetically. “But it sounds like you did the right thing, breaking it off now rather than later.”
“I hope so.”
Tabitha gave her a quick hug. “Things will get easier.”
But as the week progressed, that began to seem less likely. Sophie and Jules shared some of the most painfully polite yet unbearably awkward interactions she’d ever endured. They were both trying so damn hard to act like everything was fine, when it plainly wasn’t.
At least things were going smoothly with the show. Jules delivered one flawless performance after another. If it was possible, she got more impressive every night. Sophie found her own rhythm in the ensemble. She had a great rapport with the other dancers, and they had a lot of fun, both backstage and in front of the audience. Every night, as she stepped off the stage, she wondered how she was going to give this up. As frustrated as she’d become with her journey, she was going to miss performing so much.
And she was going to miss Jules. Maybe even more than she would miss the stage.
The following Thursday, two weeks into previews, Sophie arrived at the theater before lunchtime. Thursdays and Saturdays were their two show days, with both an afternoon matinee and an evening performance. They were tiring, but Sophie liked the challenge of trying to top her afternoon performance for the evening crowd.
As she scrolled through the photo roll on her phone, looking for something to share on her social media, she stumbled across the photos of herself in Bianca’s red dress from the first night of previews. She felt a funny twinge in her chest. What would it have been like to perform as Bianca? Hopefully, she’d never get the chance to find out, because it would mean Jules missing a performance. And even more than she’d wanted her own moment in the spotlight, she wanted Jules to succeed.
Tabitha arrived, and she and Sophie got ready for the show together. When they made it upstairs to the stage, Jules was already there, wearing the red dress. God, it looked good on her, perfectly hugging all her perfect curves. She looked at Sophie, and she felt it in the pit of her stomach, a zap of awareness and longing. Then Jules turned away, leaving Sophie to stare at her equally lovely ass and wishing like hell she could rewind the last few weeks to have even one more night with her.
