Lexi pokes at Hunter’s broad chest. She is just as loud as he was. “Where were you tonight? You were supposed to hang out after the show!”
“You’re one to ask a person’s whereabouts, Lex! Where’s Brad?”
“Answer the question.”
“You answer the question.”
Mom walks out, tapping her phone against her impatient palm. “Oh good, my children are making me proud.”
Asher laughs, but covers his mouth when she raises an eyebrow at him.
I am mortified as Hunter jams a finger at him. “This guy was up on Sam!”
“He was not on me! He was standing close, that’s it!”
Sighing, Mom informs him, “Hunter, you are making a scene that even Max is rolling his eyes over. You saw Sam and Asher—”
“That was acting! Where is Logan?”
Starting to get offended, Asher asks me, “Wait, are you dating Logan?”
“No! I am not. We are just friends. Hunter, you’re embarrassing me and I can’t even recognize you right now.”
His irises flicker and darken. “Shit.”
Mom, Lexi and I all say, “Language.”
Turning to Asher, he offers, “Sorry, Schmuck.”
Dad has marched out by this time. He sighs, grabs Hunter’s shoulders and pushes him toward the doors. “Your grandparents aren’t impressed. Lexi, let’s leave your sister and Asher alone. Come on.” Through the double doors they all go. But I see Max motioning for Hunter to come over and give him the low-down.
With just us out here now, I tell Asher, “I’m sorry. We aren’t normal.”
“You look pretty normal to me,” he smiles. “I’ve got a big family. I’m the youngest.”
“Oh? How many?”
“Seven.”
“Wow! We have five.”
“You love ‘em and you want to strangle ‘em.”
Biting my lip I glance to his pocket as he slides a hand in. “Look, I’m going to be here for a while so…”
He pulls out his phone. “You kicking me out?”
“Um…well, it’s a family thing.”
“You invited Logan.”
My mouth slackens. He’s right. But it hadn’t occurred to me that he would care. “He’s like family, though. They all know him, and he’s—”
“I get it,” Asher interrupts, but I can tell he doesn’t. However, it’s not an argument his pride will allow.
I type my phone number. “It’ll be boring, anyway.”
“Nothing’s boring about you,” he smiles.
My awkwardness melts and I kiss him. “Thank you.”
“Family is family,” he shrugs, giving me one more soft kiss. “We have tomorrow off, but I’ll call you. Maybe we can grab a bite?”
I nod, and practically dance into the waiting room. Wow, he really likes me. This is for real.
Many long hours later, Hannah runs in with tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s a girl!” She locks eyes with me. “And she named her Isabella since she couldn’t be there tonight, Samantha.” I blink in surprised confusion. So do other members of our family. “I told her how beautiful you were up there playing Izzy!”
“Oh!” My hand floats up to my chest as it deflates with happiness. “That’s so sweet!”
Jake bellows, “Now can I go in?”
Hannah laughs, “Yes, Uncle Jake. She’s calling for you.”
The room seems to sway as everyone splits up into conversations about how happy they are, should we order food since the cafeteria is no longer appetizing, when will the baby be ready for us all to admire.
Dad glances to Lexi. “I won’t be that worried when you’re in there.” Pointing to me, he counters, “You, however. I might just have a heart attack!”
My sister’s eyes shine with pride. “You know I can handle anything.”
Mom mutters, “I hate to tell you all, but giving birth has been done before.” Walking up, she leads me away from the hearing range of family. “Isn’t that sweet about Emma naming her Isabella?” When it’s just us, she lowers her voice. “You know your father isn’t trying to say you’re weak when he says things like that, don’t you, Sam?”
I shrug, “I’m used to it.”
“That’s not a cover for a deeper feeling about it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Inspecting me, she nods once like she’ll agree to let it go. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure.”
“I’m not weak.”
She smiles, “I know that. Your strength shows itself differently. There is strength in vulnerability.”
Chapter Sixteen
SAMANTHA
F or our Sunday matinee, three singers show up with hoarse throats and are sent home. Ms. Galloway announces, “We have another week and a half in Atlanta. Watch yourselves! Take your vitamin C, people. Be smart. Don’t blow it.”
One of the singers turns, holding onto the doorframe. “You’re not kicking us out of the show, are you?”
“If I was kicking you out of the show I would tell you I was kicking you out of the show. Now go home. Get some rest. We’ll run light today. Be back before tonight’s curtain or you’re out.”
His eyes go wide and he rushes to tell the others who’d already left.
The rest of us shuffle our weight, sharing glances that say, she’s not fucking around. Logan locks eyes with me. He’s not in danger—he’s been stepping it up lately. I’ve never seen him quite this committed. His usual skill-level has been surpassed like he’s practicing outside of performances on his own.
We haven’t been hanging out like we normally do. He’s been super-focused and keeping to himself like he plans to make Broadway his, no matter who else might audition for his part up there.
Asher and I are dating, everyone knows it, and we’re in that pink fluffy stage I always heard about. Where everything you say sounds like cotton candy and watermelon lemonade on a warm summer’s day.
Logan is giving us space. I think that’s pretty cool of him. We say hello and goodbye, but other than that, I’m all about Asher, sinking deeper into happiness.
We’re taking it slow. He hasn’t made a move after I corrected him on opening night. We’ve kissed and held hands, took our breaks together, gone home to pass out from exhaustion after each show. Talked on the phone every night before our heads hit the pillow.
I’m ready for more.
I think.
Hmm, I’m still not sure.
There’s something blocking me. The timing isn’t right. What’s
