“And I just wasn’t sure if the two of you were going to be in Philly, and if you thought it would be weird for me to be there, too. And if it’s not, I thought maybe we could still… you know, hang out. If that’s cool with Garrick.”
An image started to form in my mind of what that life might be like. It was a pretty great thought.
“I don’t know if we’ll be in Philly or not. But if we are… no, it won’t be weird. And yes, we’ll hang out. And Garrick can be cool or not cool with it; he doesn’t decide what I do. I meant what I said, Cade. I really do want us to be friends again.”
He smiled, relaxed in his seat, finally. “Me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cade wasn’t the only one thinking about the future. At SideBar, we did our fair share of celebrating and drinking and eating, but the talk soon turned sentimental. We shared memories of our first shows, classes we’d had together, parties that had gone horribly wrong. Rusty suggested we could have another make-out party, and he was pelted with napkins and bits of paper and even a hot roll.
Just like with theatre—life sometimes has perfect moments when the stars all align, and you’re exactly where you want to be with great people, doing exactly what you want to do.
Leaving college seemed impossible.
I had never been happier than the four years I’d spent here. I looked around the table as people laughed and screamed (we only had one volume— really, loud). These people were my family. They understood me and knew me in ways that no one else did.
I couldn’t imagine my life without them.
“Uh-oh! Tears alert!” Kelsey cried, “Bliss is getting weepy!”
I wiped at my eyes, and embarrassingly, she was right.
“Shut up! I just love you guys, okay?”
Kelsey’s arms enfolded me first, then Rusty, then Cade, and then I lost count.
Rusty said, “Stop acting like we don’t have a month left together. I don’t know about you guys, but I have one hell of a college bucket list that I need you guys to help me fulfill. Starting with getting super drunk on my last opening night. So, let’s get started.”
I ate and drank, just listening to the stories and conversations around me, soaking it all up. Life was good, and if I had my way, it was about to get even better.
It was harder than I thought it would be to excuse myself after dinner was over. Not because I was nervous about what I planned to do tonight, I actually felt good about that, but because I didn’t want to leave my friends.
It was a funny thing to miss people before you’d even left them, but that’s what I was feeling now.
A little bit of melancholy stayed with me all the way out of the bar and into my car. But it didn’t take long for it to disappear in light of where I was heading. I didn’t text Garrick when I was on my way like I’d told him I would, because I wanted some time to get things ready.
I took a quick shower, and then left my hair loose to dry curly, because Garrick liked it that way. It made me think of that night at the club, and my heart beat faster just at the memory.
I found the Victoria’s Secret bag in the back of my closet that held the lingerie I’d bought specifically with this night in mind. I slipped it on, trying to imagine again exactly what Garrick might think or feel when he saw me.
Looking in the mirror, I felt sexy, like he’d always said I was. I slipped back on the dress I’d worn after the show, not wanting to give anything away just yet. I tidied up my room, made sure there were condoms in the bedside table, and then took a seat on my bed.
I was doing this.
I was
I was going to have sex with Garrick… tonight.
Something bubbled up in my chest. At first I thought it was nerves, but then I recognized it. It was the same kind of feeling I got when I first found out I’d been cast as Phaedra and then again when the show had gone so well. It was something beyond excitement, something better.
Because I could, I hopped up on my bed, and jumped. It felt good so I did it again. I flailed my arms because it seemed like the right thing to do, and then I covered my face with my hands and let out the quietest scream I could manage.
“What are you doing?”
Garrick was at the foot of my bed, an amused grin unfurled on his face. I squeaked and plopped back on to the bed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I saw your car outside, so I came over. I didn’t realize you’d already started the party without me. I take it you’re excited about how the show went tonight?”
I climbed off the bed as gracefully as I could (meaning with zero grace at all). I should have expected something like this. It seemed I was incapable of having an intimate moment with Garrick without doing something supremely embarrassing. At least this time it happened at the beginning.
“The show was great, but I’m glad to be home.” I put a hand on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.
“You were great tonight, and now I get to have you all to myself.”
I hadn’t really thought about the best way to approach what I wanted to do tonight. I’d thought about the lingerie and the condoms and the probable pain, but not so much the “Hey, I’m ready to have sex” talk.
I mean, he was a guy, so I doubted very much he’d care about how I told him, but still… I wanted it to be right.
“How was the celebration?” he asked.
“Good, really good. I’m going to miss everyone when we graduate. It’s a little crazy to think that’s only a month away.”
“One month.” He smiled, and leaned down for a kiss.
I think he meant for the kiss to be quick, but I didn’t really give him a choice in the matter. I looped my arms around his neck to keep him down at my level, and pressed my lips more firmly against his. He hummed lightly, and the vibrations tingled my lips. His hand curled around my ribcage, and I wanted it higher, farther in. I wanted him touching me everywhere.
When he was taking too long, I opened my mouth and traced the seam of his lips with my tongue. He let me in, and the taste of him was as addicting as always. With each brush of his tongue against mine, I felt more certain.
I pulled my arms down from his neck, and slipped a hand underneath his shirt, pressing my fingertips into his back. His hands remained in safe places, my ribs and my neck, but I felt them twitch and tighten slightly at the skin to skin contact.
He kept kissing me… slowly, safely.
I slipped my other hand beneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his abs, up to his chest. I hoped he would take the hint and move his own hand accordingly.
He didn’t.
Frustrated, I shifted him slightly until my bed pressed at the back of his knees and then I pushed. He sank on to the bed, and I wasted no time climbing on to his lap, pressing against him in much the same way I had that first night we’d almost had sex.
“Bliss,” He whispered. It was almost a warning, but not quite there yet.
I should probably tell him what I wanted, but the way he was kissing me, or more aptly the way he wasn’t kissing me made me feel unsure, desperate. He still wanted me. It told myself that. And I believed it. Mostly. I just needed a little more reassurance.
I pulled back, and waited for his eyes to open, for him to watch me. When his eyes met mine, they were a
