Apparently, Jacob wanted to give us all a pep talk before the show went to a live audience. On Friday the theatre would be packed with journalists and other press, all out to see if the stage adaption of Moulin Rouge was up to snuff. It hit me then that I still hadn’t spoken to Jacob about finding someone else to play Nini. After he finished his speech, I got up and hurried over to him, but he was already surrounded by a number of people, so I had to wait for his attention. A familiar hand touched my elbow, and I turned to find Damon at my side.
“Are you all right?” he asked, eyes flittering across my face as he studied me.
“Yes, fine,” I lied.
“You seem anxious.”
“I’m fine, really,” I lied again, not entirely sure why. I guess I just didn’t want to start venting my worries about performing on stage to him, since things were still tentative between us. He eyed me closely, and seemingly my lies were pointless, because he saw right through them.
“You don’t want to be in the show,” he said, that perceptive gaze still on me.
I frowned and looked at my shoes, my lack of a response saying it all.
“I think you should do it,” Damon went on. “I think you’ll be wonderful.”
His words reinforced my confidence slightly, but I still didn’t fully believe him. “I can’t.”
“None of the other dancers will do the part justice like you can, Rose. I’m telling you, if I can go on live television to be interviewed in front of millions of viewers, then you can play this part. It’s a waste if you don’t.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.
“Don’t say anything. Just leave it one more night. If you still feel the same way tomorrow, then I won’t get in your way when you tell Jacob. But please, just give it one more day. For me.”
God, would there ever be a time when I could refuse this man? I stared at him, nodding my head before I even made my decision. “Okay, one more day.”
He squeezed my elbow, a small smile gracing his lips. How I’d missed that smile. It had barely been twenty-four hours, but it already felt like a lifetime.
“Good. Now, can I ask another favour?”
“Of course.”
“I’m have a radio interview this evening. They’re sending a car over at five. Will you come with me?”
Again, I couldn’t refuse, nor did I want to. I’d do anything to spend more time with Damon, to get back to the blissful place we’d been in before Blake decided to come along and ruin it.
“Yes, I’ll come with you, Damon.”
I always will.
Twenty-Five.
*Rose*
“Are you nervous?” I asked him as we sat in the back of the car on our way to the studio for his radio interview.
“Strangely, no.”
I turned to face him, my eyes wide. “Really?”
He nodded. “Aye. There’s less pressure with no cameras. I only have to worry about talking and not whether I look awkward or hostile or uncomfortable or…constipated.”
I laughed loudly, unable to help myself. My knee knocked against his in the process, and butterflies flooded my belly at the simple touch. “Well, you wouldn’t want that.”
His answering smile was fond, and it made my insides flutter.
A quiet elapsed, and I fiddled with my hands in my lap. I felt restless. It was a pleasure to be this close to him, but an agony not to know if he’d let me touch him. If he wanted me to. Damon’s leg moved so that his thigh rested fully against mine. I couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose or if he just needed more leg space. He did have very long legs.
“They didn’t ask Alicia along for the interview?” I queried, breaking the silence. Why on earth I thought it was a good idea to bring her up, I couldn’t say. I was so bloody nervous it was ridiculous.
“No, just me,” he answered.
“Oh.”
More silence.
“Have those, um, photographers been around your house again?”
At this Damon smirked, turning his body to mine. “You’re full of questions today.”
“Sorry. I always ramble when I’m anxious.” I clasped my hands more tightly in my lap.
His gaze traced the line of my nose before resting on my lips. “Why would you be anxious?”
I let out a shaky breath, and he started rubbing my knee. It felt too good. I loved how strong his fingers were, the magic they could work.