Page 11 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)
“Wait for me?” Willa asked him.
He concurred with a nod and then went into his dressing room to change.
Willa removed the glittering emerald costume and switched into distressed denim jeans and a white T-shirt, completing the outfit with her camel-colored coat. She took off the lashes and tossed them in the rubbish bin, leaving the rest of her makeup to wash off at home.
She waited for Sahar to finish before walking with her to meet Ethan by his door. The three of them strolled out together, finding a few cast members already signing playbills. The crowd erupted like a volcanic explosion at the sight of Ethan.
An avalanche of pride poured out of Willa as she turned to look at him.
She understood it. She’d be in their shoes if she wasn’t an actress and merely watched him perform as a fan. Ethan Everett was magnetic in every way—and his voice, good lord, his voice should come with a warning. Side effects include the risk of heart palpitations and ovarian explosions.
The fact that she knew him beyond his talents made the praise far more worthy. They were right to root for him. He was one of the good ones, on and off the stage, the type of man Hollywood unquestionably needed more of in its horrendous ranks.
They started signing, kind words being thrown to them all, like long-stemmed red roses onto the stage.
“Oh my God, how does your body move like that? Also, can I please get a photo?” a fan asked her, gushing with a huge smile.
She couldn’t believe the kindness. She adored compliments about the way she danced . Who didn’t want to hear that they were good at the thing they loved doing the most?
“Aw, that’s so sweet! Thank you, and, of course,” Willa responded, signing the playbill and posing in front of the fan’s phone.
“Thank you,” she said again before walking to the next, making their way through the riotously long queue.
They made their way down to the end of the crowd, signing for almost everyone who showed up.
When they rounded the corner of the block, Willa lunged herself onto Ethan’s back.
His hands drew back to hold onto her. “I’m so freaking proud of you,” she screeched before jumping down.
“And you two, ” she added emphatically to Sahar and Christian.
Ethan exhaled a monstrous sigh of relief. “That might’ve been the smoothest preview of any show I’ve done. I’m so damn glad it went well.”
Willa was equally thrilled with his mood; the temporary tension in his shoulders had shifted, and the look in his eyes found their natural glow again.
He put so much weight on his shoulders that she knew he’d blame himself if anything were slightly off. If even a single person were out of line at the stage door, that would have messed with his headspace.
“Everyone was so good. Like, so freaking good. Holy shit. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep,” Sahar commented.
Willa agreed. “Same.”
“Not to burst anyone’s joyous adrenaline bubble, but in two months, we’re going to leave that stage and be sweating in the gross heat,” Christian dropped out of the blue.
“Good. I’m tired of being cold. You heathens have had your time. Now it’s my turn to thrive,” Sahar countered, looking specifically at Willa .
Willa looked dumbfounded. “Give it a week, and you’ll start grumbling about it.”
“Not with the last winter we’ve had. I’m tired. Let me be happy.”
“If I hear you complain, so help me God,” Willa added.
“You won’t,” Sahar affirmed.
Willa turned to Ethan. “Weigh in, Everett.”
“You know I’m with her on this. I don’t like being cold. But fuck the heat. Give me whatever we’ve got going on right now, and I’m solid.”
“Ha!” Sahar bit back affectionately.
“He didn’t side with you, mate.”
Sahar stuck out her tongue. “Yes, but he didn’t side with you either.”
Willa turned to Ethan, then to Christian, and shook her head. “Look at the rift you’ve caused. We’re a house divided now.”
“And here I was making a random observation about the weather,” Christian remarked.
Ethan chuckled heartily, extending his arm out to set it around Willa’s shoulder. He brought her closer to him. “Could be worse. My sister’s husband is always cold, so their thermostat is perpetually set to seventy-seven degrees.”
Willa gasped dramatically. “Yeah, no, I’m pretty sure I’d die.”
They strode in companionable silence for a beat. Christian and Sahar went head-to-head on the weather some more. Willa looked up at Ethan, and he pulled her in tighter. It was tough not to want more of him during moments like this—too hard not to bask in the glow of how happy he looked.
Stop staring, Willa. Jesus. What’s wrong with you?
Ethan looked at her, not saying a word. He detected her staring and held onto her gaze. Somehow, she understood it—whatever he was trying t o say. Any other person and she would’ve sunk into the ground from humiliation.
Maybe all of this was awkward. It should be.
The putrid smell of the subway station pulled her away from her thoughts. His spicy leather cologne left her senses far too soon. When had they reached the top of the stairs?
He turned to face her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Don’t fixate on the moment, Willa. He’s just being polite.
Ethan and Christian fist-bumped, and then he moved aside to hug Sahar quickly.
Ethan looked back at Willa again, a transitory glance but powerful in its hold. “Get home safe, you three,” he said.
See, he didn’t single you out. He was just being nice.
With more and more crowds showing up when the show officially opened, she knew that Ethan would need to have a ride waiting for him instead of joining them at the station.
He lived close to the theatre, so it was convenient, but public transportation after a while wouldn’t work.
Well, that thought upset her.
Willa shook away the feelings. She focused on her steps down the stairs. She threw herself into Christian and Sahar’s conversation, standing firm on her beliefs about hot weather.
Tomorrow would bring another exhilarating performance, another one after that, and another one after that. Willa had her best friends by her side despite very obviously crushing on one of them, but nothing would have to change.
It shouldn’t.