“Exactly,” he stops fidgeting long enough to look me in the eyes. “There are people. People that I know. People who are going to see that I am not an actor.”
I reach out and grab him to hold him still, his nervous energy is going to exhaust him. “Peter, breathe.”
He takes a breath.
I reach up and pull his face down to mine, pressing our foreheads together. “You’re great. You’re an amazing Mr. Darcy, and tonight you’re going to make me fall in love with you.”
He grins, that overly confident smile that usually means he’s kidding but also tells me he’s snapping back to himself. “I thought you were already there?”
I give him a slow smile. “Ask me again after the show, and I’ll tell you.”
Peter’s eyes are suddenly fire and awe and surprise. That’s not the answer he was expecting. I take the opportunity to kiss him, and I like the way we relax into each other. Neither of us have much experience at this, but the past couple months we’ve been learning together, and that has been…more than fun.
Though it took us longer than normal to learn our scenes together since our private rehearsals contained less rehearsals and more kissing.
Drew, our assistant stage manager walks by us and chuckles softly. I give him the finger without breaking our kiss or opening my eyes, which makes him laugh harder. When everyone found out that we’d started…going out or whatever you want to call it, suddenly the jokes were endless. But it’s not that bad, and I’d take it all again for this.
“Places, please,” Drew calls.
Peter pulls back, and he’s still looking at me like I’m glowing or an alien. Entirely possible given the amount of stage make-up I have on. “Break a leg,” I whisper.
He swallows. “You too.”
I cross back to my side of the stage. I don’t have to go on right away, but I like being backstage at the beginning of the show. All the energy is electric and I can’t resist it.
The play begins, and we’re swept up into the tale. We dance, we banter, and when Elizabeth and Darcy meet for the first time, there’s a spark that’s never been there before, even in our private rehearsals.
Peter’s distaste and aloofness are perfect, and even the moments of awkwardness that shine through are perfectly Darcy. He’s a natural, even if he doesn’t believe it.
I confront him about how he’s ruined Jane’s life, and our blocking slips closer to each other until there’s barely an inch between us, only the muscle memory and our lines holding us back from falling into each other. This character has never felt so alive to me, my body aching from the fact that both Elizabeth and I just want to touch him, feel him, and neither of us is able to do so.
And then it’s the end, and suddenly Peter is on one knee in front of me, promising his love, and there’s a tug in my gut that I can’t ignore. When he takes my hand, I feel like I can’t breathe. And when the show is over and the curtain has fallen, I barely hear the applause because Peter has pulled me into the wing and kissed me breathless.
It takes Drew practically shoving us back onto the stage to run for our curtain call, and the cheering when we come out is one of the best highs I’ve ever felt. Ever will feel. Second only to that kiss.
The curtain call is over, and Peter takes me by the hand and pulls me backstage, back through the dressing rooms and into the prop room. I should protest, say that we need to change out of our costumes so we don’t keep people in the theatre, so we can go out to the cast party. But I want this too.
The second we’re through the door his lips are on mine, and every kiss we’ve had until now has never felt like this. Peter’s hands slide down my back, pulling me closer. “You were amazing,” he whispers against my lips.
“I could say the same thing for you,” I breathe. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“Amber Dwyer,” he says, pulling back to look at me, “I am falling in love with you, and I’m terrified to ask you, but—”
“Me too,” I say quickly. “Me too me too me too.”
Then he’s kissing me and I never, ever want it to end.
9
Amber
Present
I wasn’t expecting the urgent care to be this busy. Guess I should have known. This is L.A. Everything is busy here all the time.
Peter picked me up again when we got here. I told him that he didn’t have to, that I could just lean on him, but he didn’t listen. So now I’m cradled against him while he walks us through the automatic doors and up to the reception desk.