The Seat Filler - Sariah Wilson Page 0,7

it warm for you,” I joked, but she glared at me. I stood up and was suddenly at a loss as to what to do. If Noah had moved over into the aisle, it would have been very easy for me to get out and head backstage.

But he stayed put, standing there.

Which meant that I would be forced to brush past him to escape, and honestly? I didn’t think my shot nerves could take the sensation of full-frontal touching.

Then Barbie Mummy made the decision for me by coming into the row. I backed up as much as I could into the poor woman who had been seated on my other side, apologizing to her as I did so.

Noah’s date took her seat, shooting me a look of triumph. I could go out the other way. But then I’d have to climb over, like, twenty people, and that did not sound appealing to me.

Time to swallow my pride and just get out of here. “Sorry,” I said to his date, “I just need to . . .”

She didn’t move her legs and in fact kept them close to the seat in front of her, as if daring me to hop over her. Did she think I wouldn’t?

Not sure of how Shelby would want me to handle this, I just stood there awkwardly and weighed the pros and cons of going either direction. Whatever I was going to do, it needed to be soon. I was running out of time.

Noah had pulled out his cell phone and sat back down, which made the choice for me. Now that I didn’t have to worry about being sandwiched between him and the seat in front of him, this would be the best way out.

I tried with his date again. “Excuse me. I just need to get past.”

But she was also on her cell phone and ignored me. I tried nudging her legs, but she didn’t budge.

Fine.

I hiked my dress up to my thighs and stepped over her legs, which apparently surprised her so much that her knees shot up into me, which made me lose my footing and fall headfirst against Noah’s legs.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he reached out to help me.

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing his hands away. I could feel dozens of eyes on us as I struggled to stand back up. He tried again to help me back up to my feet, and I resisted both him and the urge to kick his girlfriend in the ankle.

When I stood up, the only thing between me and the aisle was a still-seated Noah.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked with what sounded like real concern in his voice. He was such a good actor, putting on a show for everyone around us. Most likely for the benefit of his girlfriend.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

I could see a smile hovering around the edges of his mouth. “Okay. Well, when you get backstage, remember the food goes in your mouth and not on your neck.”

My hand flew up to my throat in surprise. Was the chocolate stain still there? “Listen up, you smug, arrogant, condescending pain in the—”

I was cut off by the lights coming back up, and a spike of adrenaline coursed through me.

They were back from the commercial break and I was stuck with no chair to sit in, and even if I climbed over Noah, there was no way to get backstage in time.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I dropped to the floor at Noah Douglas’s feet.

CHAPTER THREE

“What do you think you’re doing?” his date asked before kicking me in the leg. She was not wearing sneakers, and it hurt.

“Ow!” I protested.

Noah put out his arm between the two of us. “Hey, Hannah. That’s enough.”

She let out a huff of indignation and then turned her body as far away from me as she possibly could, which was good, since it gave me some breathing room.

He leaned forward and asked, “So what is the plan here?”

“The number one rule is I either have to be in a seat or backstage when the lights come on, and obviously I can’t do either one of those things right now. So I’m . . . here. Until the next commercial break.”

“Which makes you . . . what? Schrödinger’s seat filler?”

Okay, that made me smile. The man could be charming if he wanted to be. “You can’t look at me or talk to me. Just pretend like I’m not

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