Showmance - L.H. Cosway Page 0,12

end of the routine, she fluttered her eyelashes, her green eyes turning doe-like, as she played her part. Satine and Christian were supposed to be falling in love. I tried to convey that when I sang, and caught a quick glimpse of Rose, who wore a strange, captivated expression.

In fact, when I looked around, I noticed most of the others were looking at me in the same way, even Jacob. The song we’d been practicing came to a stop.

“What?” I asked.

Jacob blinked and stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Oh, Damon, if only you could dance as well as you sing.” He turned to the others. “Okay, everybody, from the top.”

And that was all anyone said about it. I still wasn’t quite sure why they’d all been staring like they had.

“Let’s take fifteen,” said Iggy after we practiced the song with the dance routine several times. “Then we’ll do a few more run-throughs before the end of the day.”

I watched Rose return to her coveted corner, sticking her earphones back in and hitting “play” on her iPod as she chugged on some water. I wanted to go over there, talk to her. Already my feet were on the move, and it was completely out of character. I never approached people. They approached me.

Taking a seat beside her, I pulled a bud from her ear and stuck it in mine. A prim voice spoke, and I realised she wasn’t listening to music. She was listening to a book.

“What’s this?” I asked, and she smiled a little sheepishly.

“It’s a novel called Outlander, you know, like the TV show. I’m a bit of an audiobook junkie,” she explained, and there was something about how she said it, with a hint of embarrassment, that I found endearing.

I listened for a minute, unexpectedly falling into the story. Rose poked me in the arm. “You should consider doing one. I’d listen to a story narrated by you any day of the week.”

I stared at her, unsure how to reply to that. After a moment I leaned in, my shoulder brushing hers as I spoke low. “And what book would you have me narrate?”

She paused to consider her answer, tapping her lower lip with her middle finger. “Hmm, if only Elizabeth Gaskell had written North and South from the male point of view. You’d make a fantastic Mr Thornton.”

I affected a brooding frown. “That’s how you see me? All moody and tortured?”

She eyed me, seeming surprised that I knew who Mr Thornton was. “Maybe add ‘shy’ to that list. You’ve barely spoken a word to me all week.”

I rubbed at my jaw and looked across the studio to where Iggy stood with Jacob, both men talking, their eyes on us. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Seeming to notice my self-consciousness, she nudged me with her elbow. “Did you know you sound like Sean Bean? I could listen to him recite the phone book,” she said on a sigh. Did that mean she could listen to me recite the phone book, too? For a second her blue eyes widened, like she just realised what she’d said. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, so I changed the subject.

“Do you remember earlier when I was singing my part of the song for the first time?”

Rose nodded and took another gulp of water. My attention wandered to the delicate curve of her throat as she swallowed and then back up to her bright eyes. My brow furrowed. It was becoming disconcerting how closely I watched her sometimes.

“Everybody got weird for a second, just…staring at me. What was that about?”

She turned her body to look me dead in the eye. “You have no idea, have you?

“No idea of what?”

“Of how good you are. When you sing, I swear, even the straight guys in the cast get stiffys.”

I sputtered a laugh, surprised by her unexpected bluntness. “You’re lying.”

“And you’re oblivious, Damon. You’re a fantastic actor and an amazing singer. It’s hard for people not to go all googly-eyed when you perform. I guess that’s why you’re a star.” She shrugged like it was simple.

“I haven’t been a star for a very long time, and even then it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,” I said. What I really wanted to say was, “Do you get a stiffy when I sing?” Or, uh, the female equivalent.

Do you get wet when I sing, Rose?

The question filled my head with images. In my mind she was spread wide and naked on my bed, begging, pleading…. My

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