Method Acting: An opposites attract, found family romance (Center Stage Book 2) by Adele Buck (web based ebook reader txt) 📕

education. Alicia walked to the sofa and sat before her knees gave out. “Text me her contact information, please? As soon as you can?”

“Sure thing,” Melissa said. “Glad this is an actual family reunion and not a scam. How’s the gig going?”

Alicia inhaled, her hand on her belly, settling her jangling nerves. “Fine. Really liking the director. They canned the nude scene, by the way.”

“What? Well, you’re still getting paid for it. I made sure that was in the contract. Never let it be said I don’t earn my percentage.”

“Thanks, Melissa. Send that contact information, please. And thanks for calling.”

Hanging up, Alicia stared at the opposite wall without seeing anything. Her phone chimed, and she saved her sister’s—Gracie’s—contact information. Her eyes drifted to the white envelope on the table.

Only one other person in the world would know how much this meant to her.

Mulling over Mari’s question, Colin’s phone buzzed. Excusing himself, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. His heart stopped. A text from Alicia. The whole thing didn’t seem to be coming up on his lock screen, so he opened his messaging app.

23

That was it. The entire message.

“Problem?” Brandon’s voice broke into his puzzled concentration.

Colin looked up from the phone, frowning. “I don’t know. I just got a text from Alicia. But I don’t know what it means.”

“What’s puzzling about it?” Mari asked, her hazel eyes alight with curiosity.

“It’s just a number. Nothing else,” Colin said, looking again at the screen as if it would provide spontaneous context.

“Do numbers have some sort of special meaning for you?” Mari asked.

“I…don’t think so?” Colin stammered and stared at the screen as if an explanation would be forthcoming.

“I don’t suppose it’s too much to ask that you just text her back?” Brandon asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Mari elbowed him. “Colin should try to figure it out if he can.”

Brandon shot a sarcastic look at his fiancée. “Because it’s a test?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Because it’s communication. It’s like a video game. The context of the clue is almost as important as the clue itself.” She looked at Colin, her gaze unusually direct for Mari. “What was the last conversation you had? What did you say?”

“We haven’t talked. I wrote her a letter,” Colin said, thinking over the laboriously constructed phrases, the deliberate and painful opening of his heart, the quotation…

Electricity surged through him. Of course. He opened a web browser on his phone and entered a search. Shakespeare sonnet 23. His pulse starting to hammer, he began to read.

As an unperfect actor on the stage,

Who with his fear is put beside his part,

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;

So I, for fear of trust, forget to say

The perfect ceremony of love's rite,

And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,

O'ercharged with burthen of mine own love's might.

O! let my looks be then the eloquence

And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,

Who plead for love, and look for recompense,

More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.

O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:

To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

“I think I have to leave,” he said, looking up at Brandon and Mari. “Make my excuses if anyone asks for me, will you?”

“Did you beat the boss level?” Mari asked, eyes shining.

Colin heaved a shuddering breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I really think I might have done.”

Alicia stared at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, as if she could make those three pulsing dots that indicated a reply was being typed appear by willpower.

Maybe his phone’s just off. Maybe he hasn’t gotten it.

Maybe he’s already changed his mind.

Putting her phone down on the coffee table, Alicia got up, twisting her neck from side to side and swinging her arms. She went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and returned to the living room.

Was that a message? She grabbed the phone and tapped the home button. Nothing. She must have seen the light reflecting off the glass surface, not the glow of a notification. She checked the volume. All the way up. So she should have heard the chime if she had received a message.

Was I too obscure? The reference had seemed so obvious at the time. But now… She bit her lower lip, considered sending another message, decided against it.

Maybe he has changed his mind. Putting the glass of water down untasted, she picked up the envelope. The postmark was from only two days before. Enough time to feel regret? Handwriting a letter wasn’t exactly a rash action, though. And if there was one thing that characterized Colin, it was self-control.

Alicia realized she was gripping her phone so tightly that it was digging painfully into her hand. She forced herself to put it on the coffee table. A brisk knock on her front door made her jump, and she dropped the envelope on the floor. Taking a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself, she picked up the letter and placed it on the table next to her phone. Walked to the door. Opened it. Colin’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. Her eyes roamed over him. His face had a sheen of sweat. His tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned.

“You cut your hair,” she said, blinking at her own absurdity.

“Was it a yes? Sonnet twenty-three? A yes?” Colin’s voice was harsh.

Not trusting her voice, Alicia nodded.

“Thank God,” he said, stepping forward to fold her into his arms and kicking the door shut behind him.

Chapter 22

Colin crushed Alicia to him, resting his cheek on her head and inhaling deeply. Her hair smelled different—some sort of new hairspray or something—but otherwise she felt exactly as she should. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she clung to him just as hard. Pulling back a bit, he cradled her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across her