Once they passed, she blinked. “Two feet on the floor.” She slid the second leg out, banishing it from the warmth of the covers and placed it flat on the floor next to the other one. Now only her body remained in bed, perpendicular and clinging to slumber like a life raft in a storm at sea. “Gotta sit up,” she whispered in defeat, but damn it, she made it happen. This whole routine was a production, yes, but for two straight mornings in a row, it’d worked. She’d not been late, and the day had been better for it. She’d also been afforded some extra time with just Lauren, and that made it all worthwhile. Lauren was so much more pleasant when the two lines between her eyes weren’t creased and angry. Carly sighed, naked and wrapped in her snuggly comforter, because those little lines were actually really cute, too.

She could admit it. She was more than smitten with Lauren Prescott, and she’d thought about that sexy stage kiss nonstop since yesterday. Yes, it had been Mandy and Ashley, and she knew the difference, but the physical chemistry had been all theirs. Carly didn’t know if what they’d shown Ethan would give him the motivation to actually talk to Evelyn, or maybe even let her see Lauren perform the scenes in person. God, if only uptight Evelyn could see how likable Lauren was as Mandy, how funny and kind. She didn’t know the protocol for those kinds of practices in the theatrical world, but she hoped for her own career’s sake that yesterday hadn’t been for nothing.

Two hours later, she stood in the rehearsal hall, iced coffee secured—without being late, mind you—waiting on Ethan. Lauren and Trip were behind the stage manager’s table passing a lot of pages back and forth and nodding. Evelyn was still out, apparently, which was great for at least one more rehearsal with someone else.