AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t need advice from you, Broussard.”
“No need to get snappy at me. Just trying to help.”
And I know that he was and that I was, in fact, being snappy, but I couldn’t help it. His advice was good, but for some reason, I didn’t want it from him.
He watched me closely, a line pinching his brow, obviously irked. “Do you mind if I record?” he asked with a little aggression.
Realizing I was being overly defensive, I sat up straighter. “No.” I waved a hand nonchalantly to his phone. “Of course not. Let’s get going.”
So we settled in and did just that. Falling into our characters kept us from going at each other’s throats, thankfully. We read all of Act One and Two in character. I managed to wade through the romantic scenes without too much embarrassment though I caught his smirky smile when my face heated.
I’d read all of the stage directions in parentheses and was well aware there were a few kissing scenes. I was grateful Bennett hadn’t stopped to discuss that because I wasn’t quite ready for it. Especially not right here on my living room sofa.
We stopped for a bathroom break, and I brought out some chips and salsa, then launched immediately into Act Three. We were toward the end when his character Paul was wildly drunk. The scene was freaking hilarious and the way Bennett was acting out the lines with a drunken slur had me breaking character and laughing.
I leaned over the coffee table, still giggling, scooped some salsa and brought it to my mouth. A dollop of salsa dropped off the chip and landed on my boob.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Abruptly, Bennett stopped talking as we both looked at my chest.
Bennett put both hands up, one holding the script. “It wasn’t my fault this time. You can’t blame me.”
I grinned because he honestly looked scared like I’d somehow say this was his fault. I suppose I couldn’t blame him for being skittish. I’d been pretty hard on him since the call-backs.
“I know it’s not.” Shaking my head, still giggling, I took a napkin and wiped it off.
When I glanced up, Bennett’s smile had slipped, but he was still staring. Not at my boobs, but at my face. An awkward silence filled the room, both of us looking a little too long. His gaze dropped to my bare legs then he tapped the recording app off on his phone and stood up.
“Well, I think that’s enough for tonight.” He tucked his script into the front pocket of his hoodie.
I stood with him, a little off balance by his abrupt change in mood and wanting to leave. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sure. Thanks for letting me.”
I snorted as I held the front door open. “I’m not that much of a wicked witch.”
He turned and arched a brow at me without responding.
“Am I?”
“I’m not answering that. I don’t want to get beat up by a little redhead on her front porch.”
“I amnotviolent!”
He reared back, palms up. “Whatever you say, Miss Mouton.” He backed down the porch steps. “Anything you say, Miss Mouton.”
Planting a hand on my hip, I said more calmly, “I’m not.”
“I never disagreed with you.”
“You’re just saying that to appease me.”
“Yep. And keeping my balls attached to my body. I like them right where they are.”
“At least you know exactly what I would’ve gone for if I was actually violent.”
Still walking slowly backwards, he cupped his hands protectively over his crotch, pulling my eyes south. For some reason, the playful move was sexy as fuck.
