Текст книги "The Unidentified Redhead"

Автор книги: Alice Clayton

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Chapter Fifteen

We made out like teenagers, standing in my new bedroom, kissing and caressing softly. There wasn't the urgency of earlier, although I could sense that it could be brought to the surface within seconds. Now there was gentleness, a quietness to our exploration. I had forgotten what it felt like to simply kiss a man and have him kiss me back, echoing my pace. This was sweet, nurturing, lovely and loving.

This was a romance that was beginning.

We kissed until the sun began to set, and he leaned my head on his shoulder, catching me into a close embrace. He smoothed my hair back into a ponytail and kissed near my ear.

"Is it crazy that—" he began.

"Let's not start that again. We agree, we are both crazy," I interrupted, patting him on the backside.

"I wasn't finished, you rude girl," he said, frowning down at me.

"Oops, sorry. Please continue," I apologized.

"I was going to say, is it crazy that I think your tits look amazing in that turtleneck?" I pulled back to look at him. He was gazing down at me with a twinkle in his eye.

"You have a one track mind, Johnny Bite Down."

"That's true, I do." He laughed.

"And the turtleneck might have something to do with the hickey you left behind!" I scolded, pulling it down so he could see what he did. He just rolled his eyes and laughed.

"By the way, I'm going to make a rule, right here and now," I continued, pulling out of his arms altogether and facing him with my hands on my hips. When I saw him laughing, I jiggled my chest at him. He was mesmerized instantly. Now that I knew the girls had such power over him, I would be using them more often.

"Eyes up here, Hamilton…my rule?" I dragged his focus back.

"Yes, your rule. What is it?" he asked, moving closer to me again.

"This," I said, flicking his lower lip. "You are not allowed to bite down on that lower lip unless you are planning on spending at least an hour using it on me,"

"What is with you and my lip? I don't see the big deal." He frowned, making a show of biting down aggressively.

"It's hot OK? Just plain hot, so knock it off! Promise me…hey, promise me!" I snapped my fingers and squeezed his face, pushing his cheeks together so that his lips werepushed out. "Promise me you'll be my Johnny Bite Down, and mine alone or no more slap and tickle."

"Grace, please, if I want a little, what did you call it? Slap and tickle? I do believe if I want a little of anything, you'll be begging to give it to me," he challenged.

I raised my eyebrows at him and prepared to go nuclear on his ass.

He called your bluff. You will totally give him anything he wants, whenever he wants it.

Dammit.

"But, in the interest of keeping the peace…and our dinner reservation," he began, "I will agree to attempt to restrain the biting down until I can, what did you say, use it on you…as much as I can help it…agreed?" He smiled that grin that he knew I couldn't resist and I melted.

"Yes, please, thank you." I smiled back. He kissed me softly again as I fixed his hair and we made our way back through the house, locking it on our way out.

We decided to take my car, but he drove. We went to Yamashiro's, a Japanese restaurant in the hills with amazing views of Los Angeles. He had timed dinner just right so that when we were pulling into the lot, the sun was finally setting in the west, leaving behind a lovely glow around the gardens. This restaurant was actually situated in a series of Japanese gardens and was a rather famous place to dine in L.A. It was also very romantic, something that was not lost on me. The boy did good.

We settled into a table by the windows so we could watch the sunset, and after ordering our sushi and sake, I excused myself to run to the ladies room. I checked my reflection in the mirror, smoothing my hair, and noticed the flush in my face. Right before I had left the table Jack had mentioned what he planned to do to me later that night, and it was enough to get my blood pumping.

It may have involved his tongue.

I overheard two girls talking back and forth between the stalls, obviously discussing a celebrity that was dining here tonight.

"I saw him over by the window! Damn, he looks good. He is all dressed up; normally when I see him out he's much grungier."

"He is fucking hot is what he is. I wonder who he's with?"

"Eh, some woman, it must be business related. Maybe it's a meeting. That's probably why he's dressed up."

The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle. I had a pretty good idea who they were talking about and who "some woman" was. I ducked my head into my purse to hide my face, but as they exited the stalls, I took a quick look.

They were tall. They were beautiful. They were young. They stood at the counter, washing their hands and touching up their lip-gloss. I suddenly felt like a fool, an old fool. One of them, I'll call her Stunning, caught my eye in the mirror and she spun around.

"Oh! You're the one that's eating with Jack Hamilton, right?" she exclaimed. The other one, Also Stunning, took me in, eyes flickering over me head to toe. Not being judged any kind of threat, she turned around as well, with a saccharine smile.

I looked at Stunning and said, "Yes, yes I am. Did you want me to relay a message to him?" I asked, remembering my manners and that Holly would not want me to start a brawl over her client in a ladies' room.

"Oh no, we'll maybe stop by the table later. Will you two be meeting long? We were hoping he might want to grab a drink with us afterwards," Stunning answered, as Also Stunning smiled at the thought.

Breathe, Grace…

The fact that they had already dismissed me as competition pissed me off royally, but I kept my cool. "You know, I really don't know how long, but you're welcome to stop by the table. Jack always enjoys meeting his fans." I took one last glance in the mirror and swiftly exited.

My heart was pounding as I made my way back to the table. This was ludicrous, what I was doing, the idea that this could work past a few manic sexy times…ludicrous. We were worlds apart, despite the connection that we truly had.

I was a thirty something with a giant mortgage and a fledgling career. He was about to be a huge movie star that should be with girls like Stunning and Also Stunning back there. A thousand thoughts ran through my head in the thirty seconds it took me to walk back to our table and all but one ran back out as soon as I saw him.

He stood up when I got to my chair and pulled it out for me. His hand found the small of my back as he guided me into my seat, and then it rose up my spine and landed at the nape of my neck, his fingers tapering out to slide under the fabric, grazing the skin underneath. It was a sweet moment, more telling than a dozen red roses or a box of chocolates or anything else he could have done.

He wants you. Why, we don't know. But he does. He wants his crazy girl, his Nuts Girl.

I caught the eye of Also Stunning as the pair walked back through the bar. I couldn't help but plant a soft kiss on his fingertips as they moved from the back of my neck to my cheek. His hand finally settled over my own on the tabletop, clasping my fingers with his in clear view of everyone in the restaurant.

I saw her nudge Stunning and the two of them stared at our entwined hands. I could not stop the slight smirk that flitted across my face as their eyes narrowed at me. Jack was oblivious to all of this, as most men are in the ways of snide womanly behavior.

I sipped my sake, sucked my edamame, and in spite of the slight confidence burst the smirk had given me, tried to ignore the quiet but persistent alarm bells that had begun to ring in my head.

***

After dinner, I dropped Jack off at his car, agreeing to meet him at Holly's as soon as he picked up a few things from his apartment. There was no discussion about him spending the night, it was just silently agreed upon that neither one of us would be sleeping alone any time soon.

I pulled into Holly's driveway, thinking about what had happened right before we left the restaurant. We'd had a wonderful time. On two occasions girls approached the table, and they were so young it was sweet to watch Jack interact with them. Thankfully, the Whores stayed away. I think they knew better.

We were standing by the valet stand, waiting for the car to be pulled around, and Jack held my hand while I naughtily kissed his neck. That's when I saw flashes. There was a photographer…and he had gotten it all. I immediately dropped his hand, trying to melt away into the background. He smiled for the camera a few times and then the person backed off. I looked guiltily at him as the valet brought my car to the front, and Jack walked around to open the passenger side for me.

"Don't worry about it. No harm done," he whispered, getting me tucked in before tipping the valet, taking the keys and pulling away from the restaurant.

"Oh man, that's not good. I know Holly is going to kill me."

"Grace, if I'm not concerned, why should you be? Maybe soon you'll be the identified redhead," he teased. I smiled, but I knew she was not going to be pleased if that picture showed up anywhere.

Thirty minutes later, I let myself in the backdoor, hearing her call out my name from the living room. She was curled up on the couch watching the news.

"Hey, asshead. How was dinner?"

"It was good."

"Where's Jack? No orgy tonight?"

"He's stopping by his place to pick up a few things and then he'll be along." I smiled, grabbing a piece of the brownie that she was munching on.

"So we have a few minutes to talk?" she asked.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Well, remember the meeting with the producers for that musical you auditioned for a few weeks ago? The one that's still being work shopped? They want to see you again."

"Seriously? That's great! When is it?"

"Tomorrow, so I wouldn't recommend any screaming tonight. Besides, I can't take another night like last night."

"That's OK. I can't either." I smiled, thinking of how much I'd enjoyed myself, then shook my head to clear it and started up the stairs.

"Will you send him up when he gets here?" I called over my shoulder.

"Yes'm."

As I headed upstairs, my thoughts moved from my Brit to the meeting tomorrow. This musical was very exciting, exactly what I would love to be doing.

'My Brit?' When did you start calling him your Brit?

Shhhh…

***

I changed into my white Polo button down, yawning. I was still tired from last night. I slipped between the sheets and was already starting on the last story in the series when I heard Jack coming up the stairs. I smiled in anticipation of seeing him again, and when he opened the door to my bedroom, his smile mirrored my own.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey, yourself," he answered, bringing a duffle bag and a guitar case into the room with him.

"What, are you moving in?" I asked, shocked at the size of his bag.

"No, Nuts Girl. I just brought what I needed and I usually play my guitar at night, unless I am otherwise engaged that is." He smirked at me. "A little late night reading?" he joked, nodding at my reading material.

"Hey, we went through this already. I will no longer apologize for this. This series is amazing and your candy ass should be glad you got cast," I countered, snuggling deeper into the bed and reopening my magazine.

Jack putzed for a few minutes, rummaging through his bag, plugging in his iPod, plugging in his phone, plugging in his laptop. Guys have so much gear. He seemed very comfortable here already and I equally loved and hated how much I liked seeing that. He went into the bathroom and I could hear the water running. He was taking a quick shower before bed. I kept on reading.

Just as Joshua was coming out of the bathroom in 1920's New York to seduce Ruby the Ziegfield Girl, Jack came out of my bathroom. I looked up quickly and then had to look again to truly appreciate what was coming toward me.

Jack's hair was wet and yet still artfully tussled…how did he do that? He was clean-shaven, wearing black boxer-briefs and a grin. His strawberry blonde happy trail was calling out to me.

"Did I tell you, by the way, that I love your glasses?" he asked, nodding to the frames that I was peering over to get a more unobstructed view of him.

"Thanks, um, thanks…hi," I stammered, once again speechless and idiotic at the sight of his semi-nakedness.

"I brought you something," he said, digging through his duffle and then climbing into bed to lie on his side.

Isn't it a little early to start assigning sides?

Shush.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" I asked.

He slipped under the covers with his laptop, and turned to me. "Shut your eyes," he instructed. I did what I was told. When I opened them, he had placed a new bag of Chex Mix in my hands.

"Yes! Can we have some now?"

"You can have anything you want, Gracie." He smiled, brushing my hair back from my face and kissing me lightly on the tip of my nose.

A few minutes later, we had settled into a companionable silence. There was a pile of my discarded Melba Toasts on the bed between us, next to a pile of Wheat Chex that he had selflessly given up to me. He answered emails as I read.

It was nice. I read for a little while longer and when I could feel my eyes getting droopy, I set my book on the nightstand and snuggled down under the covers. I watched Jack type for a moment and then I turned on TV. I found Lifetime just in time for my favorite theme song, which I quickly began to sing along to.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, looking up from his laptop.

"Oh, come on, you don't know the Golden Girls?"

"Should I?"

"Oh, they're the best! I fall asleep to the Golden G's almost every night!" I answered happily, burrowing under the covers next to him. He watched in spite of himself, being drawn into it against his will. Finally, he gave up the fight and shut down his laptop. He turned off the light on the nightstand, as well, and cuddled up to me.

We lay, watching Dorothy, Rose, Blanche and Sophia, giggling every once in awhile. He seemed to be a Rose fan. I would have pegged him for Sophia.

He was lying with his head on my breast, arms lazily around me while I played with his hair. When the show was over, I clicked the remote and the room fell into darkness.

"Good show, right?" I asked.

"Hmm, I don't know if I would go that far," he said, his fingers finding their way to the top button on my shirt.

"Hey mister, I have a huge audition tomorrow. I'll probably have to sing. I can't be screaming tonight," I warned, already growing warm as he started in on the second button.

"Grace, it's not my fault if you can't control your volume. Exercise a little self restraint, for pity's sake."

"Right, not possible with you."

I relaxed into it though, as he began kissing lower with each button he popped.

"Grace?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you wearing anything underneath this shirt?"

"What do you think?" I teased. He undid the last button and spread my shirt out.

I was bare beneath.

"Fantastic," he breathed at the sight of me.

His mouth immediately went to work on my left nipple, his hand coming up to knead my right breast. I moaned in spite of myself.

"Hey, quiet down there, mouthy," he chided, one hand dipping down lower, nudging my legs apart.

"If you do that, I'm not sure how quiet I can be," I begged, feeling myself getting more excited by the second. I tried to distract him by turning his face up towards mine, but the boy was already on the move.

"Grace, I'll make you a promise," he said, peering back up at me, his chin resting on my tummy.

"Yes?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"If you can keep your voice down, I'll promise you that I'll only make you come once, and trust me when I say that once will be enough," he enticed, rubbing circles over my Hamilton Brand.

"And if I can't keep it down?" I asked naughtily. I really did need to get some sleep, but now he had piqued my interest.

"Then all bets are off, and I'll ravage you like I did last night. All. Night. Long."

Hell.

Grace, you have one of the most important meetings of your life tomorrow, you cannot lose your voice.

But he said he would ravage me. And having been ravaged by Mr. Hamilton before, I was anxious to ride this roller coaster again.

Grace, grow up. Let the man get you off once, it will be spectacular obviously, and then you can get some sleep.

But I didn't know if I could keep my voice down. I tended to lose all control when his mouth was involved.

For fuck's sake, Grace, grow up. Bite down on a leather belt or something.

He was watching my inner monologue with great fascination, chuckling at me.

"Well, Crazy? What's it going to be?" he inquired, while hooking my right leg over his shoulder. He leaned his head towards me, licking his lips, watching for my answer. I was shivering.

Orgasm #1 or Orgasm #2? To be fair Orgasm #2 would probably quickly be followed by Orgasms #3-13 and beyond…and no voice tomorrow. Oh, God, this was impossible. He was blowing on me now, his breath making me pant heavily.

Grace…

I grabbed handful of duvet and bit down.

"Good girl," he whispered with a satisfied grin and went to work.

And it was spectacular.

Chapter Sixteen

Warmth spread through my tummy as tightness began to build. I hissed as I felt a flickering, an insistent fluttering, and then a warm wet tongue sweetly lapping at me. I leaned into it, feeling the intensity as it ran through me.

Mmmmm.

I woke with a start, breathing heavily, and in the middle of a moan. I clutched the sheets to me, covering my nakedness. I could still feel the pangs of my dream orgasm beating through me. It had been so real, it felt so real. I was still completely aroused.

"Thank God you're up. I was worried that I was losing my touch," I heard my Brit say. I looked around the room, searching for him, until I felt a poke on my leg.

I looked down and I saw Jack between my legs.

This would now be known as the Hamiltonian Wake-Up-Call.

His tongue was poised just over me, ready to deliver another kind of kiss that killed.

"Oh, God, I wasn't dreaming that?" I exclaimed, nipples on point.

"Huh uh," he whispered, pointing his tongue and placing it against me. I leaned up on my elbows and watched him. Amazing. The sight of him, spreading me with his magic fingers and pressing his tongue against me, was the best way I had ever been woken up.

I moaned.

Then he moaned against me, the vibration of his lips making me shiver.

He buried his face in my sex, making my toes curl and my back arch. He furiously pressed his tongue into me, bringing me to a quick peak. I clutched my thighs around him, digging my heels into his shoulders, rocking back onto the bed. Before I was finished, I pulled his face away.

"Come here," I growled, and after kissing my Hamilton Brand, he obeyed. I kissed him feverishly, the taste of me all over him. He was still gloriously naked from the night before…and gloriously hard. I grasped him firmly while his hips bucked into mine. My name slipped from his lips as I whispered in his ear.

"Touch me again," I said, guiding his hand back to me. We stroked each other and I was still so sensitive from just moments ago that it did not take much.

"Oh, God, Jack! That's so good!" I cried, never taking my gaze off his, even though my eyes wanted to roll back in my head.

He growled as he watched me come again, a devilish grin on his face. I pushed him back and knelt next to him on the bed. He kept one hand between my legs and I dedicated both of my hands to him, watching his beautiful face. He was moaning, my name continuing to fall from his mouth. He was rock hard and I imagined how he would feel inside me.

He was close and I pressed my face to his. His head was thrown back on the pillows with that look that I'd come to love all over his face. It was a thing of beauty. His eyes were fiercely shut, jaw tense, brow furrowed, mouth slightly open, moaning my name. As much as it killed me to do it, I removed his hand from me. I wanted this to be about him.

"Open your eyes, Jack," I said quietly. "I need to see you."

His lids opened and the look of wonder in his eyes stunned me silent. I felt him tense as he came for me and I grasped his face with my left hand, sweeping open kisses across his cheek as I watched him.

His eyes never left mine. I felt him shudder and I slowed my hand, gently taking him back down.

"Jesus. Grace," he moaned, finally shutting his eyes, pulling my forehead down to meet his own. His breath was sweet as he continued to shudder. I wrapped my arms around him and wrapped my body around him as well. I brought him down to my breast and cuddled him to me, holding him tightly as the last few waves ran through his body.

I loved that I could make him feel like this.

***

"So, this meeting, is it a callback?" he asked over the roar of the water. I stepped out from underneath the shower head, pointing it more directly on both of us.

"Kind of, I auditioned for them last week and rather than a traditional callback, I'm going straight through to producers," I answered, sweeping my hair out of my face. "Shampoo, please," I directed. He turned around in the shower stall, giving me a peek at his cute little buns. I couldn't resist a little squeeze. He flexed them for me, making me giggle.

"Fuck, you have like four different shampoos. Which one do you want?" he asked, puzzled. "And why do you have so many?"

"I need them for different days. Some days you need a clarifying shampoo, some days you need a color boost…today we will go with the deep conditioning, please," I selected, pointing at the chosen shampoo.

"Huh, I usually just collect all the free ones from hotels and use whatever I have on hand."

"Maybe that's why you feel the need to wear that damn ball cap all the time," I teased.

"Don't hate the cap," he instructed firmly, pouring the shampoo in his hand.

"Spin 'round," he said, indicating that I should face away from him. I did, and I felt him begin to wash my hair.

Well, wasn't he too cute?

"So, producers. That's great, Sheridan. What time are you meeting them?" he asked as he continued to lather. He seemed to be having great fun making swoops and swirls with my hair and all the bubbles, and I think I caught what looked like a pompadour in the reflection of the glass door. He had used almost two palms full. I wasn't surprised at all the lather.

"Holly said at 2:00 p.m. What do you have going on today?"

"I have more reshoots tonight, probably pretty late," he said. "OK, rinse," he instructed, guiding me under the spray.

I felt him gently work all the lather out of my hair, being careful not to get any in my eyes. He really was sweet. I returned the favor, lavishing attention on his scalp, since he was a fiend for it. Of course, he was so much taller than I was, and in order to reach his head I had to stand on tiptoe in front of him. He made sure I was steady, though, keeping my breasts firmly grasped in hand.

"What? I'm supporting you. I don't want you to slip and fall," he griped, when I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Uh huh," I answered, giving his head one final scratch. "OK, rinse," I said.

He closed his eyes and stood under the water, while I grabbed my shower gel– brown-sugar and coconut scented—and proceeded to wash my body. By the time he opened his eyes again, my body was covered in fragrant bubbles and my hands were slipping and sliding around on my skin, something that was not lost on Mr. Hamilton.

"Crazy, what are you trying to do to me?" he sighed, leaning against the tiles.

"Settle, George. I'm just taking a shower. Here…try some of this." I flipped him the bottle.

Maybe I arched my back just a little more than necessary when I swept my hands across my breasts.

"Grace…" he warned, and I could see how I was affecting him. I giggled. He examined the shower gel. "Coconuts! It's coconuts!" he exclaimed.

"What's coconuts?" I asked, turning my back to him to rinse my front.

"That's what you smell like! You smell like coconuts and clean laundry," he said proudly, as if he had cracked some code. He might just have been the cutest thing ever. I peered over my shoulder at him. He was grinning.

"I smell like clean laundry?"

"And coconuts, don't forget the coconuts," he reminded me.

"No, we really shouldn't forget the coconuts," I said, turning to face him and running my hands down his torso, and even lower. His eyes widened.

I didn't forget the coconuts.

***

That afternoon I was speeding down Sepulveda, heading to my meeting. Holly had told me I would probably sing again, so I kept the top up and was doing my vocal exercises in the car.

I was excited for this meeting. When I had originally been given the details of this new show, it intrigued me. It was a brand new musical, still in the workshop stages. They were continually rewriting the music and the lyrics, and as an actor, the chance to be the first to inhabit a role was intoxicating.

The female lead was in her thirties and an aging beauty queen. The entire show was based around her coming to terms with her age, no longer being the ingénue, and dealing with the aftereffects of a messy divorce. It was about a second life, redefining yourself all over again. It was sweet and funny, and the music I'd already heard was amazing.

This show was me. I was all over it. Now I just had to sell the director on it. I was new to show business as far as they knew me. All I really had going for me was Holly, and she had to sell like hell to even get me the initial audition. But once I was in the door, it had been all me. This was my first real test, my first real reentry into the industry, and I was taking full advantage.

I was ready. I was excited. And if I booked this job, I would be ecstatic.

***

When I arrived, I met with two of the New York producers, the director, and I was supposed to meet the writer, but he had just stepped out. As I chatted with them, the director asked how long I had known Holly.

"Oh gosh, we've known each other since college! We were roommates, and then we both moved out to L.A. within a few months of each other. She's great."

"Yes, I've worked with her on several castings over the years. Holly's fantastic." He smiled and I smiled back, proud of my friend who was obviously so well respected within the industry.

"Ah, here's our writer! Michael, we'd like you to meet—"

"Grace? Grace Sheridan?"

The voice was familiar. I turned around, an expectant smile on my face. He seemed to already know me. Then I saw him. Of course he knew me.

He had broken my heart thirteen years ago.

Dammit, Holly…

***

"Seriously, Holls, what the fuck?! How could you send me in there blind like that?" I yelled, swerving in and out of traffic like a crazy person. People were honking at me and I flicked off at least three of them at once.

"Grace, calm down. I had no idea it was the same Michael O'Connell. I mean, what are the odds?"

"What are the odds, indeed," I grumbled, as I cut someone else off. "Shut up!" I yelled as the man flashed his lights at me, screaming obscenities.

"Wow, settle. Hang up the phone and come to the office. Tell me here, where you can't hurt anyone."

"Don't bet on it," I warned, yanking my Bluetooth out and stepping on the gas, almost causing another accident.

***

When I was in college, I had a huge crush on one of my best friends. He was in drama school with Holly and me. We were all great friends, but Michael O'Connell was my favorite.

He was incredibly talented. His talent was what drew me to him first. He was still the funniest guy I had ever met; quick witted, dry and an amazing sense of timing. Like a lot of comedic actors, he also had a sweet emo streak that, when cast in dramatic pieces, made us all weep.

He always seemed to be a little interested in me. It was especially evident when I would perform, particularly when I would sing. He would watch me, and I could see the 'friend' face slip away, and it was just a guy watching a girl that he liked. But he would keep me at arms length otherwise, always eternally my 'buddy.'

It was infuriating.

Then, at the end of junior year, he stunned us all with the news that he was going to be transferring to a fine arts college in Boston, starting in September.

All summer, I knew I had to put up or shut up. I attempted to get him alone constantly, but as we all hung out in a group so much, it was tough. He knew, whether consciously or not, how I felt about him, and he kept me away.

Not to brag, but no one said no to me back then. I dated our college quarterback, the president of the best fraternity on campus, and was briefly tied to a Physics professor. And this guy, this drama geek was dodging me. Fuck all that noise.

At a cast party in June, I got drunk, and confronted him. Holly, Michael and I were in the kitchen, knee deep in crappy pot and Lynchburg Lemonades when I saw him looking at me, really looking at me—like I always caught him doing when I was on stage.

I didn't think about what I was going to do, but without warning or much thought at all, I pushed him up against the pantry and kissed him, long and hard. I heard Holly say, "It's about time," and walk out of the kitchen. His eyes were surprised, but then he got into it. He kissed me back, both of us dropping our drinks. I finally pulled back and told him in no uncertain terms that he was coming home with me that night. He agreed.

It had been amazing. We made love all night…and I hate the term "made love"…but that's what it was. It was three years of love and lust spilling out, and the fact that we were such good friends made it even better. He told me he had been in love with me since freshman year.

I lay awake all night, planning. He couldn't leave now…he said he was in love with me. And once I kissed him, I realized that I was in love with him, too. It went way beyond a crush. This was who I wanted. I couldn't wait for the next morning.

As it turned out, I really could have waited. It was all kinds of awkward. He wouldn't even look at me. He was out of there as fast as he could put his pants on, and when he saw me later that day backstage, he couldn't even look me in the eye.

We limped through the rest of that summer. I slowly walled up "All Things Michael O'Connell", and when he left, I never saw him again. I heard about him from time to time through our alumni contacts. He'd become a writer, doing a lot of work off Broadway and then eventually receiving great success writing for both TV and film. That was all I cared to know. And now that mother fucker held my career in his hands.