Character Flaws: A Standalone Romantic Comedy Read online

  He and Joey seem to have hit it off and are laughing together as I walk around the room in my instructor mode. I’m ashamed to admit it, but my stomach tightens into knots when I see how he looks at her and it makes me want to punch his lights out.

  Unfortunately, he’s a very good actor and a very nice guy, so I can’t dislike him too much.

  But I’ll keep my eye on him.

  Marlon acts out the scene in a dramatically high-pitched voice, which says to me that he’s playing the female part. I smile and shake my head, stopping behind Joey’s chair as they practice their lines.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I never did any such thing. You need to take that stick out your ass and get real, Chester.”

  Joey says the next line, her voice forcefully low to sound masculine and she puffs out her chest like she’s a Guido dude. “I am as real as it gets, lady. And it’s about to get a helluva lot more real if you don’t stop accidentally over-watering my side of the lawn.”

  I jump in. “Okay, stop right there.”

  This gains their attention and they both look up at me with a mixture of anticipation and worry.

  “Now Joey. Do you think that Chester is really angry with Silvia at this point? Or is he just trying to get under her skin?”

  Joey scrunches a brow in thought and then shrugs. “I’m not sure. I mean, he stood at his window and saw Silvia spraying his lawn – so it looks like it’s intentional. I guess I’d be pissed if my neighbor did that to me.”

  She smiles coyly and I laugh. “Possibly. But knowing the interactions these two have had thus far, do you think he’s only just hedging his bets? Maybe he’s trying to push her boundaries a little to see how far he can take this. Maybe he has an attraction to Silvia and doesn’t know yet how she feels about him.”

  Marlon grumbles. “Women.”

  We all laugh at his comment. “Okay, let’s try that again. This time, I’ll play Chester and you say Silvia’s line, okay Joey?”

  She nods. “Sure.”

  As we go through the lines together, I see the lights come on in both Marlon and Joey’s expressions. Based on the way I enunciate and highlight certain words, using my hand gestures and expressions, they soon realize the true meaning behind the scene.

  It’s all innuendo and sexual tension building up between the two main characters.

  We finish it up and I gather the class back together to discuss the emotion hidden within the words and it’s all in how the actor uses their own emotion to draw it out for the audience.

  “So, you see, class, acting is not just about memorizing lines or saying them on cue. It’s about listening to your partner and reacting using your own emotional reactions. This is where you have to draw upon some personal experience you’ve had in your life to depict what the character is going through. It’s about taking yourself somewhere emotionally and capitalizing on that feeling by expressing it in your lines. Does that make sense to everyone? Any questions?”

  A few people chatter in comprehension and a few hands raise, as I work to answer them directly. Birdie joins in on a few explanations and we continue the rest of class until we finish up at four o’clock.

  “Great class today everyone,” I say, just as Birdie announces the plan for tomorrow.

  “Remember, tomorrow we will be reading lines and those who wish to try out for the lead roles in the play, be prepared.”

  With that, everyone gives a collective groan and I notice Joey’s eyes dart down to her lap in order to avoid any eye contact with me. She admitted in a conversation after class the other day that she suffered from severe stage fright, which I promptly resolved to fix with a good old fashioned “do what you fear the most” speech.

  Birdie dishes out some advice for those interested and the class begins to depart. I notice Joey hanging back and talking to Marlon. I only catch a small piece of it because Proctor has hijacked my attention and is babbling on about his expertise in set design.

  What I do hear Marlon say has me stiffening and ready to pounce. To step in and sidetrack their conversation so it can’t continue.

  “You want to go grab a bite to eat? There’s a great pizza place around the corner,” he suggests, the baggy jeans he wears nearly falling down past his butt. I could give a rats’ ass that he wears Calvin Klein shorts.

  Proctor says something but I ignore him. Thankfully Birdie has joined our conversation.

  I strain to hear Joey’s response. But when I do, it makes me smile inwardly.

  “Oh, thanks Marlon, but I can’t. I already have plans for dinner tonight. And I want to practice these lines and work on pulling from my emotions,” she says with air quotes. “But maybe some other time.”

  Marlon grins broadly and I want to smack it off his face. He’s a good guy and all, but not for her.

  I don’t know why I feel so proprietary over Joey. We’re just friends and nothing has happened between us. Only for the sheer fact that I’m a chicken shit and haven’t put any moves on her.

  The thing is, I really like spending time with her and feel like we have a friendship developing that I don’t want to fuck up with sex.

  Scratch that. I do want sex. I’ve been abstinent for months and spending so much time with Joey has me walking around with a semi every time she’s near.

  And I feel like she can see my guilt every day when we’re in class – like she knows I’ve jerked off in the dark of night to visions of her naked. Which I’ve done.

  Every. Single. Night.

  Yet I haven’t put the moves on her.

  I honestly can’t read her and I don’t want to embarrass myself if she doesn’t feel the same way toward me.

  I’ve already been burned by Alyssa and I’m a fucking mess.

  Deciding I’m not adding any value to the discussion between Birdie and Proctor, I step up next to Joey and Marlon.

  “Nice work today, you two. You both did great. And it’ll get easier the more you practice this. It’s just like anything. The more you work at it, the more fluent you are.”

  Marlon nods and waves his goodbyes to us both, leaving Joey and me standing there. A smidge of awkwardness between us.

  I bite the bullet. “You’ve got dinner plans tonight?”

  I don’t mean to embarrass her, because I don’t want to assume anything. But if tonight is anything like the last week, we’ve had dinner together every night since she got locked out of her apartment. I’ve really enjoyed it and I thought she did too.

  Maybe I’ve just been reading into our easy connection and building on something that’s not really there.

  Joey blushes and shrugs. “Oh, I uh…well, yeah. I figured we’d have dinner again tonight so you can help me with these lines. I need to draw from that emotional well you mentioned in class. But I didn’t want to tell Marlon that.”

  Nodding, I laugh. “Sounds like you really do listen to what I’m trying to teach here.”

  Another shrug. “When it’s an interesting subject and a good instructor, it makes it fun…plus, Birdie’s really entertaining.”

  I give her a doubletake and see her smirk. “Birdie, huh? I see how it is. There’s always on problem student in every class…”

  She shoves me playfully in the arm and I feel the heat searing down to my fingers.

  Yeah, I’ve got to do something about this and soon.

  Maybe tonight.

  And I know just the thing that will help me make my move.

  It may be a wussy way to go about it, but at least I’ll be able to save face if it all goes south.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joey

  They say cooking is the way to a man’s heart

  I’m nervous. I don’t know why I’m such a freaking mess right now.

  Taking another sip of my wine, I busy myself with the pot of boiling pasta hoping to calm my nerves while I wait for Theo to arrive. I’m just making a summer pasta salad for dinner. Something easy and light that doesn’t suggest anything romantic.


  Even though I still have these humming bird sensations circling in my tummy every time Theo looks, talks or smiles at me.

  Am I that desperate that I fall for a gay man who has more interest in eating my pasta salad than the goodies between my legs?

  Yes, apparently, I am just that desperate.

  Maybe I should have accepted Marlon’s invitation for pizza. He’s cute and funny, and has a really nice ass…I mean, cheek bones. He’s a few years younger than me and mentioned that he’s still in college. While it doesn’t make me a cougar or anything, it still feels a little like robbing the cradle.

  But he does have a very fine ass.

  But it’s nothing compared to Theo’s butt.

  Yeah, so I’ve ogled it a little. Okay, maybe a lot. Big deal. It’s just part of the human anatomy and everyone has one. They stick out, so butts are supposed to be stared at.

  Especially Theo’s. You could serve tea on it. Or bounce a quarter off it. I wonder if that’s what attracted Pat to him, too.

  Sigh. I have to keep reminding myself that Theo’s not available. He’s my neighbor’s boyfriend or lover. Or whatever.

  Speak of the devil. My phone buzzes on the counter next to the stove and I turn down the heat to set the burner to simmer as I check the incoming text.

  Hey baby girl. What’s shaking? How’s the theater class going?

  Instead of texting back, I voice dial his number and he answers within two rings.

  “Joey, my love. How I’ve missed hearing your voice.” His speech is a bit slurred and I’m curious if he’s had too much libations.

  I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “I just talked to you two nights ago, doofus.”

  He laughs and I can tell he’s definitely drunk. “But it’s true…” he over exaggerates, drawing out the “oooh” and then I hear something loud.

  “What was that?”

  There’s some shuffling noise in the background. He sounds like he’s in a bar.

  And then I hear a moan.

  “Oh my God, are you getting it on right now? Why would you talk to me while you’re in the midst of…well, that!” I screech in horror.

  He muffles something and then he’s back. “Oh calm your tits, girly. I’m just doing some heavy petting with my boy toy du jour, Ming Shen.”

  “Patrick, does he know what you’re saying about him? Have some tact.”

  Pat chuckles and says something in Chinese. “Oh, it’s fine. Don’t be such a mother hen. I picked him up tonight at this posh gay bar. He’s only spoken Mandarin, so I assume he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. Or even care, for that matter. He just wants my big American cock. Don’t you Ming?”

  I slap my hand over my forehead. “Really, Pat. You know I’m not a prude, but must you be so salacious? I’m hard up enough and it’s almost an insult to me to know that you’ve only been in another country for five days and already got some and I’ve got squat.”

  I know I’m being completely ridiculous right now, but it seems so unfair that Pat can fly three thousand miles and get laid and I’m right here in Chicago empty handed and looking forward to dinner with a hot gay man. Somethings wrong with this equation.

  “And by the way, what would Theo think about all this?”

  For as long as I’ve known Patrick, he’s been a manwhore. He goes through pretty twinks as fast as I change my daily-wear contacts. But if it’s one thing he isn’t, that’s deceiving. He doesn’t cheat on his lovers and he’s faithful and monogamous when in a relationship.

  Although, truthfully, I’ve never really seen him in a steady relationship.

  So, it’s surprising to me that he’d act like this when Theo is still living in his home.

  “Theo? Why in the world would he care? He knows what I’m about. And honestly, he needs to get over his ex and move on anyway. I’m just helping him through that.”

  I consider this for a second and then realize it’s none of my business, anyway. Whatever goes on between Theo and Pat is their thing and I’m not to get involved. Even if I do care for them both.

  “But you said you loved him.”

  “I do love, Theo. Just as I love you. Now…let’s move on, shall we? How’s the class going? And how’s my baby boy, Woody?”

  We talk for about ten minutes and then I have to end our call so I can finish making the pasta. It sounded like Pat was ready to go home with Ming, as well.

  I was still a little confused by how nonchalant Pat was about Theo and their relationship. If it would be me in Theo’s place, I’d want to ensure fidelity. But maybe it’s just not like that between them. They’ve known each other a long time and have obviously come to some kind of mutual agreement.

  But now I’m very curious about what’s going on with them and plan to ask Theo tonight.

  As if right on cue, my door buzzes and I wipe my hands on the kitchen towel before heading to let them in. I know Theo brought Woody along. He goes just about everywhere with him. And I told Patrick that very thing so he doesn’t worry about his little guy’s care while he’s gone.

  The “alpha incident” aside, Theo has been doing a pretty darn good job handling Woody.

  “Coming,” I call, rushing to the door but stopping in front of my hallway mirror to do a final check on my appearance.

  Not that it matters.

  I have my curls up off my neck tonight, since it’s hot and steamy in my apartment right now. Of course my air conditioning unit had to go out yesterday and without the fulltime summer job, I have no extra income to shell out the thousand dollars for a new unit. I’ve been making due with my ceiling fans, window fans and a cooling unit in my living room.

  While my complexion is pale and freckled, thanks to my Irish grandmother, Adelaide, at least my cheeks are extra rosy from the heat, giving me some much needed color. I’d added some gloss to my lips and a little eyeliner tonight to make my eyes pop.

  I feel rather pretty, but insanely stupid for trying so hard to gain the attention of a gay man. Who the heck am I trying to please? If Theo notices anything about me, it’ll be my ability to act like I don’t find him attractive.

  Swinging the door open, I smile convincingly.

  His gorgeous white teethed smile assaults me where I stand and I’m rendered practically speechless.

  Gay or not, Theo Crawford is one very hot man.

  He steps in through the doorframe, Woody in his arms, as I admire his form. He’s not overly muscular, but the light blue t-shirt he wears pulls across his frame, accentuating the bulge of his biceps and the toned chest underneath.

  And I know it’s toned because I saw it that night out on the balcony. When he walked out in only his khaki shorts, my mouth had gone bone dry at the sight of his chest. He has a very light dusting of hair between his pecs and then down the center of his torso leading to the edge of his shorts. What I would’ve given for the chance to run my hands down his abs.

  His smile turns into a sideways smirk when he catches my appreciative gaze. I think my cheeks went from watermelon pink to strawberry red.

  “It smells good in here. What’s for dinner?”

  Theo bends at the waist and gently drops Woody to the floor, who goes scampering off to find his treat that I hide for him to find. It’s our little game we have. Keeps him stimulated and out of trouble.

  His movements create a waft of air and I get a whiff of his fresh, clean scent. A masculine soapy smell and a spicy aftershave. But it’s not overpowering or cloistering. It’s fragrant and fresh.

  “Mmm-hmm. Smells good.” I absently agree. I wonder what he smells like after sex?

  He chuckles and moves around me. I must look like a lunatic.

  Working to get myself refocused on why he’s here, and to pull all thoughts of sex with Theo out of my brain, I walk back into the kitchen and offer him a glass of wine.

  “Can I have water first? I haven’t eaten today and I’m feeling a little dehydrated. And we both know how I get with too much wine on an
empty stomach.”

  “Sure, not a problem. Oh hey, I just spoke with Pat right before you came over.”

  He leans an elbow on the high countertop.

  “Oh yeah? How’s he doing? He must not be too worried about Woody because I’ve only heard from him a couple of times the last week.”

  I pull out a couple of plates from the cupboard, load them up with romaine lettuce and dish up the pasta salad on top of the bed of lettuce.

  “You know Pat. He’s good. Enjoying the different cultures.” I hedge.

  Theo laughs, reaching for the plate I hand him and placing it on the table.

  “So you mean he’s already found someone and is getting laid?”

  A weird-sounding gasp slips out of my mouth. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have opened this up for conversation.

  When he sees my expression, he laughs some more.

  “Come on. I’ve known Pat a long time now and I’m very familiar with his sexual appetite. There’s no way he’s going celibate while in China.”

  I sit down across the table from Theo and tilt my head in confusion.

  “So that doesn’t bother you? Knowing he’s messing around?”

  Theo’s fork stops midway to his mouth. “Why would it? It’s a human need to get laid. I would be getting some if I…”

  I practically choke on my food as I swallow it down, trying to dislodge it with some water. This was not how I was envisioning our conversation over dinner tonight.

  I’ve just been through the biggest dry spell in my adult life and here he is talking about his sex life, casual as can be. While I’m over here clenching my thighs together trying desperately not to wonder about his dick size.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We do not have to get into each other’s sex lives. I’m sure the last thing you need to hear about is how I’m on track to becoming a spinster by the time I’m thirty.”