Page 51 of Play the Part (Marsford Bay #2)

CONNIE

One Month Later

I t’s opening night at the Remington, and I’m so excited that I’m practically vibrating out of my skin. I’m just off stage, peeking through the heavy velvet curtains at the crowd gathering in the auditorium.

It’s a full house, and the sounds of people chattering and laughing are like music to my ears, the sense of accomplishment tingling through my veins. I might not be the one on stage, but this is my moment nonetheless. It’s my play. My words. And I couldn’t be more proud of myself.

“Hey,” I hear Huxley whisper from behind me.

His hands slide over my hips as I swivel around to look at him.

“Hux,” I whisper back, acting surprised but still circling my arms around his waist. I kiss him before adding, “What are you doing backstage? I thought you were sitting with everyone else?”

He flashes me a crooked grin. “I am,” he replies, followed by another quick kiss. “But I wanted to see you before it started.” His smile turns coy. “I have a surprise for you in your office.”

I lift my brows. “A surprise?” I smirk. “For me?”

“Yeah, for you, silly,” Huxley says before taking my hand and pulling me toward the corridor leading to my office.

“What is it?” I ask playfully.

Huxley doesn’t say a word but looks at me over his shoulder and winks.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the sight.

I’m still getting used to this side of Huxley.

It’s not as if his inclination to brood has magically disappeared since we got together, but there’s a peacefulness to his demeanor now that I only caught glimpses of before.

Aside from therapy, I like to believe I’m at least partly the cause of this new version of him.

Before getting to my office, Huxley turns to face me and takes hold of my other hand, now clutching both.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

I tease him with a suspicious look, but close my eyes as instructed, squeezing both his hands when I do. Carefully, he guides me inside, positioning me in the room with gentle hands on my hips until he finally tells me to open my eyes.

My gaze lands on my desk. It takes me a few seconds to understand what I’m looking at, but when it finally dawns on me, my hands fly to my mouth.

“Oh my god,” I say breathlessly, taking a step forward and bending down to have a closer look. “Is that …”

On my desk sits a small wooden replica of the Remington stage. Carefully carved and painted, with miniature decor placed all across the stage as if still in the middle of renovation. Like the small ladder leaning against one of the walls. Or the small bucket of paint close by.

“Did you make that?” I say the words slowly, still in awe of all the details I continue to find as I study the model.

“Yeah,” Huxley says behind me. “I made the bulk of it in woodworking class.”

He pauses, and I turn around to face him. His smile is sheepish, and if I were prone to tears, I think I’d be fighting the deluge right about now.

“I worked on the rest of it at home as much as I could.” He rubs his neck and shrugs. “I was really trying to get it done before opening night.” His gaze softens, and I feel it warm against my skin. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Hux,” I say softly. I take his hands, prompting him to circle his arms around my waist. He pulls me closer as I slip my arms around his neck. “I love it.” I kiss him tenderly. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Huxley smiles against my lips, the kiss lingering and achingly sweet.

“Yeah?” he rasps.

“Yeah,” I repeat in between kisses, then groan as if annoyed. “Ugh, I’m so in love, it’s disgusting.”

Huxley puffs out a laugh, trailing kisses up my neck before looking up at me. His green eyes scintillate as he squeezes me against him.

“I guess that means you’re stuck with me forever, then,” he answers teasingly.

I sigh, pretending to be bothered, and quirk a smile. “I guess I am.”