Wrote this update between exam breaks. Hope you enjoy :)
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Sam's POV:-
"Yes, of course. Absolutely. Perfect. Sure, you do that," I gabble at Naomi, fumbling and hiding behind my bag when Max walks in. He doesn't see me, and goes to greet the teacher on stage. Calculatedly, I sneak a glance at him.
He's freshly showered, wearing jeans shorts, a threadbare shirt and white shoes. His back is turned to me, and the light is flashing on his front, giving me a neat outline of his figure through the thin shirt. Oh yesh!
The muscles swell in pride, underneath the shirt. Hard rounded flesh, bunched together. His leg muscles also looked impressive, though I haven't really noticed men's calves before. But yes. Those deep lines do scream, I work out, you lazy holes.
"Excuse me," I politely smile at Naomi, and go to the backstage to clear my head. Last evening, after Max and Lia dropped me off I couldn't do anything, except sit on the terrace and over-analyze my every move. Safe to say, I spend the rest of my night in remorse. I also gave, a lot of extra, more than necessary, thought over Max's lips.
I was ready to call in sick today, but one of my seniors messaged me specially, that I have to come early, for proofreading the damn script. We weren't supposed to practice on weekends, but one teacher decided to polish few of the main scenes. And of course, it is that one teacher, who is a weird whack job. The one teacher, who does unnecessary arrangements and troubles everybody. Thankfully, she only called few of the characters. She can't handle an entire cast singlehandedly.
"Hey Sam."
"Oh, hi Dave. How are ya?" I stiffen. Shit Dave! I had forgotten all about him.
"Good. Where were you yesterday? You.. vanished," he smiles, with a tiny frown.
"That.. I... I-I ha-had.." I stutter. Dave looks at me in question.
"I had a thing," I force a reply.
"Oh. No worries," he gives an easy grin. "Coffee after rehearsal?"
"Sure," I smile. He leans down and pecks my cheek, before backing away. I smile uncomfortably. Taking a deep cleansing breath, I get back to work. I look through my clipboard. My next job is to distribute updated lines.
"Ella, you're Juliet's nurse, right?" I jog to the redhead, who was crossing the stage. She pauses, and nods. "Here, these are your lines. And you need to take those flower vases, to the other side," I rap my pencil, against the back of my clipboard.
"Where are my lines?"
My face grows hot, as the gigantic shadow looms over my head. Because of the lights overhead, it looked bigger. I turn around, careful not to look at Max.
"Chloe, is in-charge of your lines," I say, looking for Chloe in the audience. "She must be somewhere around.. Oh wait, there she is. Look," I point a finger at Chloe, never looking at Max's face.
"Thanks," he mutters. I was about to scamper away, but Max puts his thumb under my chin, lifting my face up. Timidly, I meet his eyes. He looked pissed, for some reason. His wet hair was shining in the stage light. They gleam pitch black, combed to perfection.
"Umm..." I say, to fill the tensed silence. His thumb stays in position, while his index finger traced my jaw line. His face is blank, as he drops his hand and walks away. I let out the breath I was holding.
"Max," I call. He pauses and looks back. "Did umm.." I clear my throat, to get rid of the shakiness. He turns around completely. "Did Lia, leave?" I nervously play with the loose end of my purple cardigan. I had thrown it over my white lace camisole, and light blue jeans.
YOU ARE READING
Luggage Bitch
Romance"Umm.. Thanks," I mumble, kicking dust with my shoes. "What?" Max asks me. "I said, thank you," I say more clearly. "Still can't hear you... Could you repeat that?" he asks politely. "I said thank you!" I shout. "You pig," I add lowly. "Still nada...
