“Fair point.” I kept my tone level. He was vastly overestimating my ability to be near him and not touch him, but he also had a point that people would notice us not getting along. “I’ll try to loosen up, look more like we like each other.”
“I thought we did.” His wounded tone was a barb right for my soul.
“You know what I mean.” I reached for him then, no stopping the impulse, but he deftly sidestepped my grasp.
“Yep, I do.” He nodded curtly before turning toward the stairs. “Let’s get back.”
A group of three stagehands came thundering up the steps, leaving me no choice but to silently follow Ezra back to his dressing room. I was such a dick, and what was worse, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from being a jerk around him. He got my honesty, but also my every misstep, every awkward word. Around him, I felt fourteen again, not the smooth operator I presented to the rest of the damn world. Damn it. Why could I muster up the charm for everyone else? I needed to apologize to Ezra, really apologize in a way that he couldn’t help but listen, and I had a feeling my words weren’t going to be enough to get the job done.
Chapter Sixteen
Ezra
“What do you mean the shower’s broken?” I glared at Kate. Or rather, I glared as best I could with a messy face and soaking wet shirt. Through a series of disasters, I’d ended up wearing some fan’s beer when I’d slipped on some ticket stubs on the floor in the meet-and-greet line, and rather than let Duncan, who had had a hand at the ready, steady me, I’d crashed into the barrier and ended up covered in stinky, hours-old beer.
And now, the only thing I wanted was a long, hot shower to forget about a performance that was far from my best. I still had to make it through the after-party, but Kate gestured helplessly at the teeny bathroom attached to my dressing room.
“I mean, there’s a sign…” She pointed at the Out of Order sign someone had helpfully tacked up on the shower door.
“Fuck.” I was out of words for how crappy this night was going. I tried to never give fans anything less than my best, but I knew full well I’d been off the whole show. Maybe no one else could see I was phoning it in, but I knew, and that was bad enough. And it would be easy to lay the blame squarely at Duncan’s feet, but really, this was on me thinking I could mess around with him and not get burned by his never-ending sense of honor and drive to do the right thing.
“You could go shower in Carl’s—” Kate started to offer, but I held up a hand to stop her.
“And risk some exotic new virus?” I groaned and threw myself on the sofa of indeterminate origin in the corner of the dressing room.
“Well, you can’t go to the after-party like that.” Kate was all reasonable, but reasonable was the last thing I wanted, especially when Duncan appeared in the doorway, tossing me a towel he’d procured from somewhere. The man was some kind of magician. Damn it.
“I can take you back to the hotel. You’ve got a good setup there, right?” Duncan asked like he didn’t know perfectly well that my suite had a shower as fabulous as the one in St. Louis. He’d checked the suite out earlier, but Kate had been with us, so Lieutenant Noble couldn’t risk acting like he noticed the hell out of the shower. But he had. I knew it. The memory of the day before had hung between us, and no way was I the only one who had to merely hear running water to remember how damn good his soapy muscles felt.
“It looked fabulous. Room enough for a whole SEAL platoon.” My voice had an edge to it that made the joke fall flat. When only Kate tittered nervously, I made a dismissive gesture in Duncan’s direction. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Trust me, I’d much rather track down a shower and change of clothes for you than battle a club.” Duncan gave a weary sigh. Maybe this endless day had been as hard on him, and maybe the tension between us was getting to him too, but right then, I was having a hard time mustering sympathy. The best I could manage was keeping my mouth shut and not snapping.
“See?” When I didn’t answer, Kate spoke up, adopting a super-patient tone I didn’t deserve. “You’re saving Duncan a headache. And if you feel up to it, you can have him bring you to the party after you shower and change.”
“I don’t have to be brought somewhere.” My hair was sticky. My shoes were squishy. My chest was soaked. No way could I mirror Kate’s patience, and all my frustration with Duncan being a professional all day came out in my voice. “I’m not the president or a show pony.”