Play Dirty (23 page)

Never before would she have called them friends. They did bond a lot during their hours upon hours of scene rehearsals with Matthew during
Romeo and Juliet
, more out of necessity than anything else. Matthew hadn’t been talking to her at the time, so she’d needed to talk to
someone
. Also, he made an excellent pawn to fuel Matthew’s jealousy.

In hindsight, she was probably really shitty about it.

“So inappropriate,” Aidan reiterated, shaking his head.

Lynn bit her thumbnail. Was it possible she had it all wrong? Could Aidan be the one leaving the notes? If he felt led on and then abandoned, it would be entirely possible. She didn’t know him as well as some of the others in the department. He’d transferred during their sophomore year, haunted by curious stories from his last school. Weren’t most rumors founded in fact?

Maybe she had that wrong.

The note handwriting didn’t scream masculine, but she knew a guy or two who had pretty script. Dana’s boyfriend, Oliver, was one of them. Aidan didn’t seem like the neat and tidy type, but smaller things have surprised her.

He smiled when he noticed she was staring at him. She smiled back and carefully angled herself away from him. Snakes. Snakes everywhere. It was exhausting.

“Can you watch it?” Aria shrieked. Lynn’s corner backstage collectively groaned.

Matthew continued to shine as their director. The play required working with multiple teachers, adding the band director, dance team coach, and choir teacher to the mix. Matthew was the epitome of professional and helped wrangle the whole clusterfuck of students and instruments and egos with ease.

He really was an incredible director. Next time they could finally speak, she would suggest that maybe he missed his calling in life. He was an amazing actor, yes, but maybe directing would be a stronger, more successful course for him.

Until then, she would watch him from the shadows, admiring the authoritative way he handled the cast and crew, firm but kind, the way he was in the bedroom with her. It was kinda sexy, fantasizing about all the ways he ordered her around and moved her body, while surrounded by people who had no clue what he was capable of.

“Why don’t you step outside for a break?” he said. Aria started to protest, but he pointed towards the auditorium doors. “Miss Levens, five minutes. I’ve had enough of your outbursts.”

Bursts of laughter and applause broke out through the auditorium. Aria flipped everyone off and stomped outside.

Lynn was proud of him, more than anything, for not fueling any rumors. It was clear he wasn’t engaging in Aria’s pathetic passes. In the Levens’ world, there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Dana was positive Aria fueled her body on controversy instead of food.

“Think about it!” Dana whispered conspiratorially over her lunch tray that afternoon. “You never see her eat!”

Dana was right, too. Aria liked to periodically brag about Mommy and Daddy Levens getting her an agent, so Lynn’s money was on her starving herself, which sounded wholly unpleasant and every bit stereotypical. She wasn’t sure where Aria was getting the energy to be such a raging bitch. Souls from virgins and newborn babies, maybe. Lynn wouldn’t put it past her.

That’s where the line was drawn between Lynn and Aria: the ability to care for someone else. Dave and Brad could argue that both girls were hot, and they did, and that both girls could both tear up the scales while singing, and they both apparently drew Matthew’s attention. Aria, however, would never give two shits about Matthew’s career. Since she was still Suspect Number One in the note scandal, Lynn was
really
certain she didn’t care. Someone else’s life didn’t matter so long as Aria Levens got exactly what she wanted and everyone knew her name while she did it.

Not that Lynn was bitter. Or angry. Or despised her with a hatred hotter than the fires of a million suns. Or blamed her for having to sneak around in the shadows just to be with the man she loved. Not at all.

It occurred to her she had no idea if it was as difficult for him as it was for her. She knew guys were supposed to have insane sex drives. Hers was off the charts, so what did that mean these weeks were like for him?

She wanted to do something for him, after enduring all this. Lynn maybe wasn’t always the most patient girl, or the easiest to deal with. As much as she tried to pretend their age difference never got in the way, she could tell when he would get frustrated with her for acting … too much like her age? She was still only eighteen. And he cut her plenty of slack.

Her phone buzzed, a text from her mother. She only read it because Aidan was trying to catch her attention again.

Dad wants another couples’ retreat this weekend. No parties.

Lynn swallowed the squeal she desperately wanted to let loose and sent back a simple
ok
. No parents this weekend meant a lot more freedom. The wheels started turning. By the end of rehearsal, where it appeared everyone had had more than enough of Aria and was eager to jump ship, she’d worked everything out. And it would be
perfect
. Matthew could finally see how devoted she was to him, and to them, and that they were worth fighting for.

She didn’t wait for him after rehearsal. Too many people were around, too many invites to the nearby Cocos for stacks of pancakes and cups of shitty coffee drowned in room-temperature creamer. This was keeping up appearances, but also one of her favorite things about theater. It was hard to beat a group of theater geeks singing show tunes over greasy diner food.

But she did send Matthew a message.

Meet me at the Marriot Marquis in Manhattan Saturday night. ;)

Lynn made a point to not check her phone until they left Cocos and everyone had gone their separate ways. Aidan lingered longer than she liked, making awkward conversation about the weather and the clientele inside.

“But that’s what we love about Cocos.” Lynn smiled and half waved apologetically. “I really have to get home. My parents are kind of … intense.”

He smiled back. “So I heard. Listen, um …” Aidan turned red and scratched the back of his neck. That familiar sinking feeling hit Lynn. “I know we see a lot of each other at rehearsals and stuff, but I was kind of hoping we might be able to hang out sometime. Like, outside of rehearsals.”

“There’s life outside of rehearsals?” She teased, forcing her voice to be light. “Impossible.”

“Right?” He laughed again. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it. “Look, you’re really beautiful and talented and funny. I’m sure you’ve got some hot, older guy fawning all over you, because you aren’t like the rest of the girls here, but I was kinda hoping you might be interested in going out on a date sometime. Maybe.”

Oh god. Oh god.
Oh god
. Aidan suddenly shot ahead of Aria on her suspect list. Why would he mention an older guy? Or anything at all? Lynn put on her brightest stage smile. “That’s so sweet, Aidan. Really, and I’m so touched—”

“But you aren’t interested. Got it.” He smiled tightly. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I …” She had nothing else to say. She wasn’t interested in the
least
, even if Matthew wasn’t in the picture. And this was all probably a rouse to let her know he knew and fuck fuck fuck. “I’m sorry, Aidan. Truly.”

“I knew it was a long shot.” He waved good night and disappeared around the corner without saying goodbye.

Lynn exhaled slowly and rubbed her temples. This was going to kill her. She checked her phone, and was relieved to see Matthew had finally gotten back to her, over an hour after she messaged him.

Have plans earlier in the day, but I’m all yours that night. I’d never miss it ;)

What she wouldn’t give to have him here with her at this exact moment. But they would have the weekend and it would be time to move their relationship to the next level. Without it, they would never leave the black hole of this back and forth nonsense. And Lynn. Was. Over it. She was going to show him she wasn’t his Juliet anymore.

This time, she would channel Vivian Ward.

She was so excited she could barely sleep Friday night. Approximately eighty-seven texts were composed to Dana, and then promptly trashed. It killed her,
killed her
, that she couldn’t tell her anything. They shared their entire lives together, and Dana was making it clear she wasn’t happy about Lynn suddenly living a “mysterious second life” without her.

Lynn could only blame it on her defunct family so many times.

So she busied herself with getting ready instead. Hair in curlers, heavy winged eyeliner, picking out the very perfect dress. It would have been more fun with Dana, but she’d settle for the promise of hot sex in a gorgeous hotel room with impeccable views. Tonight, she was going to feel like an adult in an adult relationship.

And it was going to be fucking amazing.

Lynn wanted to get there before Matthew met her to make everything perfect—bubbles, candles, rose petals, three different sets of lingerie. She even had the perfect playlist for their marathon lovemaking. The whole ferry ride over was a blur as she pictured every way they’d christen that hotel room.

Was it normal for girls to be this horny? She wasn’t sure and was too embarrassed to look it up. No one could blame her for being so hot and bothered. Matthew had movie star-quality sex appeal. Everything about him oozed sexiness—the way he walked, the way he held himself, how he scratched his beard when he was deep in thought and ran his hands through his hair. He was effortlessly cool, warm, and funny.

The depth of his voice made her panties wet, even when she wasn’t looking at him. She lost count of how many days she’d had to run off to the girls’ restroom for a quick masturbation session after enduring an entire period with him and not being able to look him in the eye or touch him. It was driving her mad, but not all in an entirely terrible way.

Checking into the hotel made her feel like a movie star herself. It was no Plaza, but the Marriot Marquis was one of her favorite hotels in Manhattan. She had trunk luggage and a small, pink leather tote, and giant sunglasses. As she walked through the lobby to check in, she felt like she belonged in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or needed a striking red dress a la Pretty Woman.

Their suite was perfect. As she trailed her fingers along the pristinely made bedding and the tops of the seating area chairs, she felt more grown up than ever before. So, clearly, the appropriate thing to do was crank up some music, kick off her heels, and jump on the massive bed.

Her phone lit up in the middle of a Taylor Swift song—Captain Kirk’s beautiful face. She bounced back down to grab it and was breathless when she said, “Hello!”

Because she could talk to him without worrying about eavesdroppers for the first time in what felt like forever. Or probably ever.

His voice was all smiles. “Well, hello, you. What’s up?”

“I was definitely not just jumping on the bed to T-Swift.” She giggled. “Are you almost here?”

“No, not yet. Remember I told you I had some things going?”

“Yes..?”

“I’ve got a friend to meet for a few hours. Up for a late dinner?”

“How late is late?”

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. No later than nine, I hope.”

She glanced at the clock. It was just now seven, which left two hours to fill. Alone. “Can I just come with you? I’d love to meet your friends and hear all the crazy stories.”

“Sorry, Sweet, but no. We’re going to a bar and you’re underage.”

“So have him come here!” She forced a cheery voice. “We can hang out in the hotel bar, where it won’t be an issue.”

“Lynn, I’ve had these plans for a few weeks now. I’m not going to change them last minute. I’ll see you later, okay? We’ll still have a great time tonight, just us.”

She took a deep breath and plastered on a smile so big it hurt her face. “Okay, I understand. I hope you guys have a lot of fun tonight, and I’ll see you in a while. Don’t pig out on bar snacks. I’ll be ready to stuff my face later.”

He chuckled. It didn’t warm her like usual. “Promise. I love you.”

There it was. Her pulse throbbed and quickened. “I love you, too.”

And then he was gone. Her whole body felt like it was sinking inward, but, she reminded herself, he did say he already had plans made. And, this was part of adult relationships—accepting that your significant other had other things going on. She swallowed down the bile rising and cranked up her playlist.

Fine. He was going to play with his boys, then she was going to live it the hell up in her suite. Because this, for once, was all hers. It wasn’t the Viggiani Family Manor with its ivy covered walls and Prozac-scented hallways. This big, beautiful suite was stripped of all the bullshit and had only her name on it.

So it was time to live it up exactly like fucking Vivian Ward.

First priority was ordering room service, strawberries and champagne. Because she wanted The Best, and strawberries, she learned, brought out the flavor of the champagne. With the music still cranked high, she danced into the behemoth bathroom and drew up a hot bubble bath. Soap suds swirled around under the faucet as she dragged her fingers around the top of the water. It reminded her of couples dancing, maybe a tango or a waltz.

A lonely jab hit her, wishing Matthew was here at this precise moment. This giant room was great, but it wasn’t the same without him here to enjoy it with her. She wanted champagne … with him. And a bath with him. And soapy, bubble-filled bathtub sex.

Surely, they would find a creative use for those strawberries.

To ease the pain of missing him, she told herself they would just repeat her afternoon. Two bubble baths! Two bottles of champagne! What more could a girl want? Right?

Lynn moved the speakers into the bathroom and pulled up Prince radio on Spotify. She hit Purple Rain first, one of her favorites, as she sunk into the water. It felt amazing to open up her lungs and belt out a great classic. The bathroom had amazing acoustics. She crafted her own mini-Matthew bust out of bubbles and sang to him.

She really did want to see him in the purple rain. Whatever that was. She wanted him there. She wanted him in blue rain, red rain, green rain, every color rain. If there was a day without Matthew, it was a day she wasn’t interested in having.