Not My Romeo (The Game Changers 1)

I smile.

Jack does a little bow. “My biggest fan.”

Laura laughs. “Okay, let’s pick up when Romeo comes in the tomb and sees Juliet? Ready?”

We all nod and get into our places.

And this time, when I stab myself and fall across Jack, he keeps his eyes tightly shut, never once opening them to look at me, like I want him to . . . so much.

“Two more days till the play!” Timmy tells us as we grab our things after practice the next day.

Jack ruffles his hair. “Can’t wait, little man. Want to go throw some footballs for a minute?”

Timmy holds up his ball. “I’m ready!”

They laugh and head off across the gym.

I hide my smile. Does Jack have any clue how good he is with Timmy?

“Y’all look great onstage, Elle,” Topher murmurs.

I sigh. “Yeah.”

Laura nods. “Best couple ever. I’m so happy you guys are dating.”

“Yeah.” I nod, that trickle of uneasiness hitting me when someone uses that word.

He still hasn’t come to Sunday lunch. He still hasn’t told me how he feels . . .

Neither have you, a voice says.

But we haven’t spent one night apart—at my house. I’ve gotten used to him getting up before the sun is up and making me coffee, then chatting with me on the back porch before I go to work and he heads off to Nashville. Then he comes back in the afternoon, and we eat and laugh and read, then make love. I’m living in a bubble of us. I feel . . . disoriented and at sea . . . waiting for the tide to push me back onshore, to reality.

Our play will be over soon, and then, yes, then, I’ll make a decision for us to really talk.

But for now . . .

I just want him.

Giselle walks up, wearing a guarded look. She wasn’t right tonight during practice. I take in the dark shadows under her eyes.

“You okay?”

She dips her head. “Yeah.”

I watch her walk away, frowning. I don’t like that slump in her shoulders at all. Are she and Preston okay? They seemed fine at lunch this past Sunday, but then my head was on Jack. I haven’t really been noticing everyone else around me.

My phone rings, and I glance at the caller—my old boss from New York. He gives me a call every three or four months to check in and offer me a job.

I wave at Laura and Topher as I walk to the empty stage and sit down on the floor.

“Marvin! How are you?” I laugh. “Kind of late for you to call.”

“Ah, you know me,” his deep voice says. “Always working. How’s library life and lingerie?”

I grin. When I worked for him, he’d catch me on my break sketching. An older man with a head of white hair and a big smile, he hired me fresh out of NYU as one of their copy editors. I climbed the ladder fast in two years, scoring a senior editor position, hungry for the work, missing my family more than I’d thought I would. I focused on romance, a small imprint of Blue Stone.

“You want a job?”

I laugh. “Again?”

I hear a crunch as a chuckle rumbles out of him, and even though it’s nine o’clock at night, his time, I know he’s still at his desk, munching on Doritos and drinking Diet Coke.

“Can’t help it. My managing editor of our historical line just resigned, and I thought of you. You were one of my best editors, authors adore you, and I figured you might want to move back to where the fashion world really is.”

I grin. “Dangling fashion as a carrot.”

“Worth a shot. Fashion industry has to be ridiculous in Tennessee.”

“You have no idea.” I’ve given up for the time being, just taking one day at a time.

“You could have say over all manuscripts, hiring and firing, deadlines, schedules, and a nice fat salary. What do you make these days?”

“It would make you weep.”

He laughs. “See. Come back to New York. My wife will help you find an apartment. She loves you.”

Oh, he’s a smooth one, bringing up Cora, his adorable wife, who fed me more than once at their apartment on the Upper East Side.

“You talk sweet, but . . .”

“Damn. You actually love that place, don’t you?”

I giggle. “It’s crazy. Mama is still driving me up the wall, and God, wait until I tell you about—”

I stop. I almost brought up Jack. My chest twists. I should be able to talk about us.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just excited about a new play.”

“You love those. Right. Listen, let me send you the job description, and you take a look at it and get back to me. Maybe fly up here, take a look at the department, see what you think?”

My eyes land on Jack as he throws the ball to Timmy.