Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set Gigi Blume (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖

Or at least a text. But five days had passed without a whisper. Had she even read it? Couldn’t she see I was in torment?

It was probably too forward of me to kiss her on New Year’s Eve. But the look in her eyes seemed an invitation. They flashed with a challenge, provoking my concession. For one glorious instant, the universe exploded around us. It was everything. She was everything. Her beautiful body gave in to my touch, and a little moan escaped her throat. She had to feel it too. That was no ordinary kiss. I never knew it could be like that.

But then she pulled my hair and bit my lip. Who does that? A feisty, scrappy pixie who hated my guts, that’s who.

To top it all off, I was being a terrible brother. Georgia only had a couple more weeks before she had to go back to New York. I dreaded her absence, but at the same time, I must have been the worst companion imaginable. Thoughts of Beth occupied my every thought to the point of causing physical pain. A constant tightening in my chest felt as though it was caught between the jaws of a nutcracker. And I felt queasy all the time. I’d lost my appetite completely.

It wasn’t hard for Georgia to figure out something was wrong. She’d baked Mexican Wedding Cookies—my favorite. She made a royal mess of the kitchen, but the gesture was adorable. I knew she was trying to get me out of my slump, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat more than one small bite.

“Wow!” she said. “You got it bad.”

“What? No, I don’t.”

Yes, I do.

“I knew you were twitterpated, but this goes way beyond. You never eat less than a dozen of these cookies in one sitting.”

Her little face was scrunched up in a know-it-all smirk, and she nodded smugly.

“Has it perhaps occurred to you I’m just stressed? I have a show opening soon, Tobias has been badgering me to sign on to another Dangerous film and look at the state of our house.”

I waved around erratically to accentuate the chaos.

“And stop using that word twitterpated,” I added. “It makes me feel like Bambi, and that just gets me depressed.”

“Okay, all right,” she huffed. “Not twitterpated. In love. Better?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa! I never said I was in love. I only thought about Beth all my waking moments. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t have daydreams without her popping into them like a zealous photo-bomber.

Was this what love was? More than ever, I wished Dad was there. He was crazy in love with Mom. He’d know if that’s what I was feeling for Beth.

“No,” I replied. “Not better. But thanks for the cookies all the same.”

Georgia rolled her eyes and gave me one of those head shakes mothers often do when their small child makes a mess.

“Don’t worry, big brother.” She slapped a hand on my back and patted it a few times. “Everything will turn out. We got this.”

She shot me a wink and scurried away without an explanation as to what ‘we got this’ meant. What did she mean? Who was ‘we?’ Even as I sat there with a tin of Mexican Wedding Cookies on my lap, I had a sinking feeling exactly what she meant, and that delivery for Beth had everything to do with it.

23

The Girl with The Lanyard

Beth

The charity carnival was a day away, and I was alone. Lydia was still in Mexico with Cole and Holly, and Jane got a callback for a show in New York. I’d never seen someone bolt to the airport so quickly. I was so incredibly happy for her, but it made me a little sad. I knew our days as roommates were numbered, and even though we promised to always keep in touch, it would never be the same. I guess that’s life. Welcome to adulting. Things change. Get over it.

But Jane being Jane was a little bit worried to leave me. She said she was worried I might eat my weight in ice cream. Pshh. As if. (I totally would do that.)

Jane knew me well enough to know that when faced with cruddy life situations, my coping mechanism was to stuff my face with copious amounts of sugar. Usually Nutella or ice cream. Or Nutella with ice cream. I assured her the sugar would remain at normal levels and waved off her concern with an “I’ll be fine.” Then I gave her a tight squeeze and ushered her out the door where her Uber waited. What she didn’t know was that I’d recently traded in sweets for French fries on top of pizza. I figured I’d get a head start on the carnival food.

There was no reason for her to worry, though. I didn’t tell her everything in the letter. I left out a few of the more sordid details and opted not to go into too much where it concerned Bing. Jane was just starting to get her life back. I didn’t need her to revert back into Cap’n Crunch hair and telenovelas. Bing was a big boy and when it came down to it, he made his own decisions. He’d come around if that’s what he wanted in the end. If he truly deserved Jane, even Will’s influence over him couldn’t hold him back. True love always wins. At least that’s what I learned from watching Princess Bride a thousand times. Then I got angry because Princess Bride reminded me of Will. Admittedly, everything reminded me of Will, but that was another can of worms. So what if I left out certain details for her own good?

Besides, Jane was too fixated on Will kissing me to hear much else. Her grin couldn’t have been much bigger if I’d told her I won the lottery and was elected president on the same day. Her reaction didn’t help my efforts to dampen the little leprechaun doing cartwheels in my tummy. It