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Connor shrugs. “The theatre showcases are always sold out.”
I cringe. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”
“Everyone is going to love your play, Dana,” he says, sounding so damn sure.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m gonna crash and burn.”
“No, you won’t.”
“It’s going to be awful.”
“No, it’s not.”
“How do you know?!” I ask with far more aggression than intended.
Despite that, the warm amusement never leaves Connor’s eyes. “Because Grant said it was great,” he says. “Dylan said it was great. And my mother said it was great.”
“She did?”
“Yes.”
My stomach clenches. Alyssa Morgan read my play. “When did she read it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But she did, and she told me it’s wonderful.”
I exhale, but I don’t feel any more relaxed. If anything, I’m just more worried. Alyssa Morgan used to bake me cookies. I’m dating her son. Of course she’d say it was a wonderful.
“Dana.” Connor forces my eyes back to his with a firm pinch on my chin. “Relax.”
I settle into my seat. Connor takes my hand and kisses my knuckles, each peck sending a burst of warmth up my arm.
“And that’s enough of that,” Alex says as he plops into the empty seat next to Connor.
Ben is with him, the two of them bundled in thick winter coats with colored scarves. Red and blue, as usual. “You know the rule,” he teases us as he sits down on Alex’s right.
No PDA around the brothers.
Thankfully, after nearly four months together, their definition of displayed affection has evolved to only include kisses of any kind. Before, we couldn’t even sit by each other. Hand-holding was a hell-worthy trespass. By next semester, we might get away with a kiss on the hand, but we’re willing to take it slow.
Progress is progress.
Connor sneaks a smile just for me, giving me one extra kiss before releasing my hand. I set it in my lap. He’ll find it easily once the house lights go down. Always does.
I peek around again. Even more seats are full now. I spot a familiar smile a few rows back and I wave. Jacinda waves back, her shoulders hugged loosely by Emerson’s arm.
Guess she came around to Team Floyd after all. Good for them.
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” I ask my brothers.
Alex gestures over his shoulder. “Well, Dad is signing programs with Junior in the hall and Mom is standing behind them, rolling her eyes.”
“They’re signing programs?” I ask. “For the showcase?”
“People recognized ‘em. They can’t help themselves.”
Connor and I laugh. His eyes rise to look over my shoulder, his smile suddenly stretching even wider.
“Okay, Dana,” he says. “Don’t freak out.”
