Character Flaws: A Standalone Romantic Comedy Page 18

  It’s the scene where I get to go all bat-shit crazy on Theo, er, I mean, Chester.

  The pivotal scene in the play where the tide turns for the neighbors, who have been at each other’s throats for weeks. They are night and day. He’s a cocky ego-maniac and she’s the high-strung exec who has to have her say in everything.

  I watch in awe as Theo has the audience in the palm of his hand. He makes it appear so effortless. He’s confident when he’s on stage or directing from the sidelines.

  The stage manager comes up behind me, his mic and headset obscuring his face, as he gives me my five second cue. But I’m already holding in my breath, waiting to walk on stage and give him a piece of my mind.

  Technically, Silvia’s mind.

  Geesh, acting can really screw with your head. I’m not sure at what point I’m Joey and when I’m Silvia these days.

  “Three, two, one…” Roger says quietly and I gather my resolve and stride out in front of the audience.

  My body and adrenaline take me over to my invisible cue mark on stage. There’s a short white-picket fence prop in the middle of the staged yards, indicating the property line between Chester and Silvia’s homes.

  My flower basket is thrown over my forearm and swings as I step up and look down to where Theo – Chester – is kneeling with his back to me.

  I pick up the discarded prop weeds, gripping them in my hand tight before throwing them at him.

  “If you think I’m going to continue to put up with this crap, you have another thing coming. You need to learn a lesson on manners, Chester. Or at the very least, neighborly love.”

  Theo’s head whips behind him and he pins me with his gaze. And then that cocky grin he uses – the one that gets me tingling down in my toes - pops up on his lips.

  We’ve practiced this so many times, yet I’m exceptionally nervous right now. Perhaps it’s because we’re doing it in front of an audience, I don’t know. Or maybe because I have all these real emotions swirling around in my heart about him.

  Theo’s literally turned my life inside out and upside down.

  He stands slowly, brushing off his hands to get the “dirt” off, and stalks toward me. My tummy does somersaults as he stares into my eyes, never losing their connection.

  When his toes hit the edge of the picket fence, our faces are inches from each other. His breath fans out across my face and he smells like cinnamon and cloves.

  I’m waiting for the line that sets Silvia into a tailspin.

  And I wait.

  Why isn’t he saying his line?

  I try to use mental telepathy to ask, my eyes squinting in question, but he just smiles.

  And then he whispers so only I can hear it, “I love you, Joey.”

  There’s a hitch in my breath and Theo just winks. What the hell did he just say? Am I hearing things? I look around left and right, and then over his shoulder to the side stage, confusion over what’s going on.

  He follows it up with his line. “You, Miss Fancy-pants, wouldn’t know the first thing about neighborly love even if it bit you in the ass.”

  I’m supposed to be outraged. Angry. Sexually frustrated.

  Yeah, well, that part’s true after a week of no sex with Theo.

  But I’m still stunned by what he just said. He cocks his head and eyebrow, waiting for my response. Or Silvia’s response. I don’t know which one right now.

  Ack. My head is spinning.

  Without my bidding, my hand comes up and slaps him across his stubbled jaw.

  His expression is shock because that was unrehearsed.

  Oops.

  Serves him right for throwing me off my game in the middle of a production.

  He just said he loves me and expects me to stay on script?

  “How dare you, you insolent bastard! I’ve been more than neighborly since you moved in, thank you very much,” I place my hands on my hips in a haughty stance.

  And then I poke him in the chest, emphasizing each of my next statements. “But what do I get in return? Is it thanks? Or gratitude? No…it’s weeds from your garden thrown into my yard. And those rose bushes. Good God. Chester, you know you’re overwatering those roses, right?”

  “Must you always be such a know-it-all, Silvia? You’re always in my business.”

  “Well I wouldn’t be in your business if your rose bushes weren’t on my property line.”

  “Maybe you should worry about your own bush,” he says in that naughty undertone of innuendo and just as if on cue, the audience erupts in laughter.

  “What would you like me to do, your majesty? Pull them all out and replant them elsewhere?”

  This dialogue is leading up to the big kiss. My favorite part of the play. The one that I no longer have to act because I want to feel his lips on mine again, the crushing weight of them.

  “No – I like having the roses there. But I think you should replant yourself somewhere else. Like Siberia.”

  More laughter.

  This is my cue to turn toward the audience and allow Theo to grab my arm and yank me back so he can kiss me.

  I turn slightly, hoping the frustrated agony I’m supposed to be feeling is written across my features, and Theo grips my wrist to draw me back to him.

  “I don’t want to move to Siberia. I don’t want to go anywhere without you, Joey.”

  I blink and then my eyes go wide.

  Does he realize he just said my name and not Silvia’s? Yikes, that’s a mistake.

  But then he mouths to me, “It’s okay. I know.”

  Theo palms my cheeks and my body feels like it’s floating and he’s anchoring me down to earth. The warmth of his hands seeps into my face, down my throat and sinks into my belly.

  “I’m so glad my life imploded on me the way it did, otherwise I never would have ended up meeting you. I’ve been so many things in my life up to now, but what I’ve just realized is that I’ve never truly been in love. Not until you, Joey.”

  I gulp. Shit, he said it again. This isn’t the line he wrote in the script!

  I’m freaking out, panicking because I don’t know what to do or say. My eyes shift to the audience and then back to him, but he holds my head firmly in his hands.

  His eyes tell me he’s not concerned about the audience. It’s just me and him right now. Theo and Joey. And no one else.

  “I love you, Josephine Hughes. And I never want to go anywhere else unless you’re by my side. Hollywood, New York, South Bend. I don’t care. You’re the star on my boulevard. You’re my Silvia to my Chester. And I want you to be mine.”

  Before I can say or do anything else, he kisses me. He leans in, as scripted, gripping the back of my head with one hand, the other resting at my neck, which is pulsing from the blood jolting through my veins.

  I step closer, tilting my head in an effort to be as accessible as possible. He slants his mouth over mine, and kisses me slow and deep. I open my mouth to let his tongue slide in and it tangles with mine.

  I savor the feel of his mouth. The taste that lingers. The scent of his breath.

  Everything is for me. Not the audience who is sitting there right now probably confused by what’s happening.

  And then I’m hit with the realization of what this means. What his unscripted confession means to me. To us.

  I gradually pull away, his hands still locked behind my neck. Peering up into his hazel eyes that await my response, they hold me in his gaze.

  “You said you love me,” I mutter and then gesture to the audience. “In front of everyone who came to see your play.”

  He chuckles and turns to face the theater audience who are a mixture of confused, slightly baffled and curious as to what’s going on. Some have no clue that this isn’t part of the play.

  “Yeah. Even your mother, who I’ll admit was really difficult to convince to get here. Hi Mrs. Hughes.”

  Theo smiles and waves jovially toward where my mother sits, her hands folded in her lap. She nods her head and the place l
ights up with laughter.

  When he returns to face me, he kisses me again.

  “You woke me up, Joey. Made me realize that I wasn’t living the life the way I wanted to live. I wasn’t being true to myself. You pushed me and gave me the support I’d never had before. You gave me the confidence to be Chester.”

  I shake my head and smile. “Theo, you are Chester. He’s not just a character. He’s inside of you” – I tap his chest – “and I love every single part. But I think we should discuss that later. I think these people might want us to finish the play.”

  Theo tugs me in close, wrapping his strong, loving arms around me and hugs me tight. When he lets me go, he turns to the seated audience who is all a’twitter right now and slides his hands in his pockets.

  “Sorry about that folks. We’re going to take a short, unscheduled intermission and then we’ll finish with Act Four. And as for this,” he points behind him where we were just making spectacles of ourselves. “I can guarantee you that the Saturday crowd won’t be treated to that same behind the scenes performance. Thanks for being here to witness me making a fool of myself.”

  He winks and then grabs my hand and pulls me off stage as the lights go up and the curtain goes down.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  If someone would have told me a year ago that I’d be living in New York City with my award-winning playwright/director boyfriend, I would have slapped them silly.

  And on top of that, I’ve become his full-fledged writing partner for his up and coming off-Broadway show, The Adventures of Woody, which we wrote together in less than three months and then quickly shopped around to producers.

  A very notable producer picked it up and we’re now in the process of casting the lead roles in the play.

  Some days it just seems so surreal to be living this life and living it with the man of my dreams.

  Today’s Sunday – our favorite day of the week; the day we sleep in and snuggle, which is code for staying naked as long as possible and screwing like bunnies throughout the day. I’ve slowly woken up to the sound of the city streets below and the light snores of Theo coming from the other side of the bed.

  Rolling to my side, I prop myself up on my elbow, giving me freedom to admire the naked and gorgeous man lying next to me. Last night was a late night for us, spending it with some new friends in the theater industry and getting free tickets to see the Broadway show, Kinky Boots. I never thought I’d fall in love with musicals, and even though I don’t have a musical bone in my body and can’t carry a tune in a bucket, I’ve found a passion in going to musical theater.

  My list of musicals to attend is fifteen long at the moment, but all of that can wait. Our first priority is getting our first New York play on the stage so it can become a hit.

  The most pressing priority for this morning, however, is taking a bite out of Theo’s amazing ass for breakfast.

  As stealthily as possible, I slide my hand underneath the turquoise colored top sheet and gently lay it on his thigh. Holding my breath for just a second, I bite down on my lip to keep myself in check. While his own breathing has accelerated just slightly, he doesn’t stir.

  Scooting my body down, careful not to rustle the bed, I curl my chest, torso and legs around his side, my hand leisurely drawing patterns up and down his thigh.

  I chuckle to myself as I watch his length grow right before my eyes, but soon my mood turns from fun to needy, my mouth practically watering to get a taste of him.

  Wrapping my hand tightly around his shaft, I lean in and take a swipe up his hard length. By now Theo must be awake and when I peer up the bed, I see him smiling down at me, his arm bent holding his resting head.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love waking up to you?”

  I lick and flick the tip of his cock and he moans.

  “You may have commented once or twice.”

  Continuing my assault on his hard appendage, I flick, suck and nibble at the various parts of him to ensure he’s fully awake.

  Living with Theo in New York has been a dream come true. While we live in a tiny box of an apartment in Brooklyn and next to the noisiest and most inconsiderate neighbors you could ever have, it’s all worth it because I’m here with Theo.

  I think back at my life before I met him. Everything had seemed so scripted and laid out for me. From deciding what I would major in, what school to attend, what grade I should teach – everything I did had my mother’s influence on it.

  And I wasn’t living my life or following the road I wanted to travel. It was as if I was the actor in a play about my own life – pretending to be happy with someone I wasn’t. Going through the motions and never considering that maybe I wasn’t truly fulfilled because I wasn’t doing what I was made to do.

  And then I found Theo.

  We both have our quirks and our character flaws; new ones uncovered every day. But the beauty of those flaws is that they make us unique and different from others.

  It’s my goofiness and his weirdness that draw us together, holding us together with a ribbon of undying love, support and passion.

  Tightening my grip on his hardened length, I work up and down with my palm, teasing him some more with my tongue until I’m ready to take him in my mouth.

  “I could really get used to this every morning for the rest of my life,” Theo mumbles in between grunts as I stroke and flick a drop of moisture off the tip.

  “Mm, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  And before I get the chance to wrap my lips around him and begin to really go to town, Theo pops up, slipping his hands underneath my arms and drags me up his body so I’m straddling him.

  “Wha?” I try to get out but he stops me with a kiss.

  And then he abruptly pulls back. “Close your eyes.”

  “Theo, what are you doing? I was trying to give you head.”

  “Mmm…I know and it’s awesome. But I’m taking a chance. Now do as this alpha-male tells you to do,” he commands, his voice low and deep. I can’t help but giggle, but close my eyes to appease him.

  I feel him shifting, hear the drawer of his nightstand open, and then he takes my hand in his.

  “Okay, you can open them.”

  Opening my eyes, his face is the first thing to come into view. He looks excited and giddy. I think he would’ve been a whole lot giddier if he hadn’t stopped my deep throating.

  The soft fuzz and weight of the object he places in my hand draws my attention down to where it lays it in my open palm.

  It’s not my birthday. It’s not even our anniversary. Today is just another ordinary Sunday.

  But the box in my hand is nothing ordinary.

  My heart begins to beat in fast gallops and I have the wherewithal to question his sanity, considering we’re both sitting here naked without a stitch of clothing.

  “Are you really going to do this while I’m naked?” I squeak, my shaking hand being steadied by his.

  Theo just laughs.

  “Josephine Amanda Hughes. You are the salt to my pepper. The heads to my tails. The right to my left. And in the last year, you’ve become everything to me. First a hot neighbor, then a good friend, then my co-lead and finally my beautiful girlfriend and writing partner. I believe we’re destined for stardom. And there’s only one way I want to get there together. And that’s if you’re my wife.”

  I’m stunned. Absolutely stunned that Theo is proposing to me right now. In the middle of our unmade bed, with stinky morning breath and mascara stains underneath my eyes.

  But I guess that’s what love and marriage is all about. Loving that person you’re with and all their flaws and imperfections. The naked beauty of each other that only a soulmate can see.

  “Theodore Allen Crawford, I couldn’t think of anything more rewarding than being your wife and living out the rest of my days with you.”

  Our lips meet for the first kiss as an engaged couple and it tastes better than anything I’ve ever felt.

>   He then snakes a hand around my waist and flips me over so I’m flat on the bed.

  “Now, let me show you exactly what I plan to do to my wife every morning for the rest of her life.”

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Since writing and releasing her first book in 2014, Sierra has found her creative passion writing about the fictional characters that live inside her brain, who constantly shout for their own love stories to be told.

  Sierra frequently indulges in what some might consider to be an unhealthy dose of reading, dark chocolate goodies, and way too much coffee. She hates cold weather, scary movies and reality TV shows, and frequently finds herself traveling around the U.S. to see her favorite musicians.

  Sierra resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of twenty years and her long-haired, German Shepherd. She is currently working on her next book.

  Did you enjoy Character Flaws? If so, your recommendation is the highest compliment I could receive. Please feel free to share your feedback by posting a review.

  And don’t forget to look for me on one of these social media sites:

  http://www.sierrahillbooks.com

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  [SH1]Does this even make sense?