Lauren’s love life hadn’t been entirely barren. She’d had girlfriends here and there. She thought she’d been in love once with the owner of a small coffee shop in Ithaca, where she’d gone to school. Brenda had been five years older and highly influential in the awakening of Lauren’s sexuality. She once imagined they’d get a cute little place and start a life together. Lauren would become a working actress, and Brenda would run her café. They’d meet back home for wine and dinner and curl up in bed. None of that happened, because she’d been naïve. The relationship eventually fizzled when it became apparent they didn’t truly like each other outside of the bedroom. Since then, there’d been a couple of casual relationships, but nothing that really held Lauren’s attention in the midst of her busy schedule.

Nobody had quite the effect on Lauren that Carly did. She had the ability to get under Lauren’s skin in eighteen different ways. Even when she was annoyed with Carly, she was focused on her fully, engaged, and connected to her. It was the most unnerving thing. Yet she was beginning to crave that connection more and more, and that felt…dangerous. They lived very different lives and had very different goals for themselves. Plus, Carly had a million different people in love with her. She could have her pick. There was no way that a woman like Lauren would hold her attention for too terribly long. Not when there were so many other exciting options out there.

Wanna ride to work? Lauren stared down at the text that had just arrived as she prepared her bag for rehearsal. Water, snacks, her rehearsal shoes, and headphones for when she wasn’t needed and wanted to zone out and focus on her trajectory in the show. What she hadn’t prepared for was seeing Carly this early or the way her skin tingled at the thought.

What in the world was she supposed to do now? Giving in to her guilty pleasure, she typed back, If you can be here within ten minutes.

I’m in your driveway with two vanilla lattes. Send me away or get the hell out here so we can drive to work together.

Lauren laughed, still not quite believing Carly’s new commitment to responsibility. She headed down her sidewalk with her bag and slid into Carly’s upscale rental, a red BMW convertible with the top down. The morning sun shone brightly on Carly, making her blond hair pop with color.

“This is a really nice car,” Lauren said, looking around. “The theater actually rented this for you? How is that possible?” While they did their best to accommodate celebrities in residence, the budget only went so far.