“I know.”
“Are you gonna do it? Host, I mean?”
He exhaled. “I don’t know. Would you?”
“Absolutely not,” she said without hesitation.
He laughed, a quick, surprised burst. “Really?”
“No way. I’m not funny.”
“What are you talking about? You’re funny.”
“I’m not good at comedy, though. Especially not sketch comedy. Plus the whole ‘live’ thing, doing it all in a week, everything changing up until the last minute…It sounds like mypersonal nightmare, honestly. I wouldn’t do well under those circumstances.” She paused. “I betyouwould, though.”
His breath caught. “Yeah?”
Her voice was quiet, almost dreamy. “Yeah. You’re a natural, Shane. It’s really annoying, but it’s true. I mean, you literally had zero experience before you got on the show, and you carried it for three seasons after I left. Not everyone could do that. I don’t know if I could’ve. I think you could probably do anything you set your mind to.”
He closed his eyes, her compliment moving him more than he expected.
Not just the compliment. Her genuine belief in him. He knew she wasn’t the type to dish out empty praise to fluff someone’s ego—especially his.
To his surprise, she spoke again, still soft. “What are you afraid of?”
His throat tightened to the point that he needed to take a few deep breaths before he could respond. “Making an idiot of myself, I guess. Closing doors because of it. I’ve never been a big risk-taker. This feels like a pretty high-stakes way to figure out if I’m cut out for comedy or not.”
He heard her chuckle under her breath. “I get that. But you know what makes you so good?”
“What?”
“You’re an amazing listener. Whoever you’re in a scene with, you just…connect with them, effortlessly. You know how to meet them where they are without even trying. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re capable of more than you think.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Areyoudrunk?”
“Why? Because I’m being so nice?”
“Well…yeah.”
She laughed, too, low in her throat. “No. I’m not drunk. I guess I must mean it.”
“So you think I should do it, then?”
“I thought we already covered this. Yes, I think you should do it. Guess you’re not such a good listener after all.” There was an exasperated edge to her voice, her softness from just a moment ago gone.
Ordinarily, her snapping at him like that would’ve irritated him, but he could tell there was no real malice behind it—just self-consciousness at giving him a glimpse of her sentimental side. When she got like this, she reminded him of a cat that had rolled over to expose its fluffy underbelly but was all claws as soon as someone tried to touch it.
God help him, he found it kind of cute. And he wasn’t even a cat person.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Good.”
They lapsed into silence.
He should say thanks and hang up. There was no reason for the conversation to continue, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to end the call first.
Then, to his surprise, she spoke again.
