DEDICATED TO puppyloverAylin :)

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Chapter 17 - ❝Let Lips Do What Hands Do,❞

It's time.

'Don't worry, things will be just fine. You can do this,' Seneca's last words before Tatum had stepped onstage echoed in her mind, and Tatum had to repeat them over and over in her head, ignoring the tiny smidgen of guilt that it brought along with them because she had called that night after Angier had left and canceled their pub-crawl plans, much to the Mordecais' surprise as Tatum had been the one who'd been almost ready to threaten their lives if they didn't find help fast.

And she had also conveniently left out the fact that Angier had kissed her.

She didn't know how to admit it without sounding like the whore who came in between the happy couple.

Despite the fact that it had not been her who had initiated the kiss.

Tatum's eyes roamed over to the side where the audience—most of the cast and some eager supporters/friends, were seated. Her gaze immediately caught onto the fiery red hair of her new female best friend, who upon meeting her eyes gave her a wide smile and two thumbs up. Micajah, who was seated beside her, smiled widely in an encouraging manner as well. Yeah, they'd decided to come and show their support, in spite of their busy schedules.

Ezra was off somewhere doing something—either with his Mate or pranking her, and Tatum was thankful that his larger-than-life presence was absent because he could be quite distracting and she would bet her right hand that he would tease the life out of her after the scene was over.

At least, Seneca and Micajah would let her off the hook after a while.

"You ready?" Angier's whispered voice made her turn back to the source, who was looking pretty nervous and slightly disheveled as well. His dark blond hair seemed to flop over his forehead in an unruly mess as usual, but only this time it wasn't the carefully-styled messy look he went for. It was an I-ran-my-hands-through-it-a-million-times and I-don't-care-how-it-looks kind of a mess.

What Tatum couldn't swallow was the fact that it made him look like a model on the cover of GQ, anyway.

Or Abercrombie & Fitch, when he rarely dressed up a tad preppier than usual.

"Tatum?" He prompted again, and she had to think for a quick second to recall what he had just asked.

Oh, "Yeah, I guess."

"Alright," Angier nodded to himself, biting his upper lip slightly and then smiling at her, "I think it'll be fine."

Tatum wondered if it was bad timing but then decided to do it anyway, opening her mouth to ask him if he had told Francesca about Friday, but just then, all the other lights dimmed and the stage lights focusing on the middle was switched on.

Silence fell across the hall as everyone waited for the two of them to begin. She took a deep breath and assumed position, and Angier walked up to her with a perfectly flirty grin etched on to place, having already fallen into character while she'd been contemplating her question, "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Phew, this is good. You're just playing a role, Tatum. Keep that in mind.

She kept that thought firmly in the back of her mind as she flirted back as Juliet to her Romeo, smiling and leaning forward slightly, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints—"

"No!" Mrs. G cried out, rising up from her seat in so much frustration that it startled Tatum, "No, Tatum. Don't act like Juliet. Be Juliet!"

"Yes, ma'am." Tatum murmured hurriedly, trying to breathe in and out and calm down the erratic thump of her heart. She looked down at her hands and focused on them in an attempt to stop being reminded of the fact that she was in front of Angier's Mate and her two friends and all the other crew and cast. She stopped the train of thought that every pair of eyes were zooming in on her and scrutinizing every flaw, every imperfection.

She could do this.

After all, she pretended every single moment of every day that she was not in love with Angier in front of every single person in her life.

What was the big deal in pretending like she was in love instead of the other way around?

It's not like she had stage-fright or performance anxiety or any other common issues other people seemed to face.

Then what the hell was the problem?

Because if you let the world see even for a moment how much you love him, then no one would ever believe your act that you don't when you step off that stage, a masochistic voice whispered from the back of her mind.

And Tatum knew that the voice was one hundred percent right.

She was so fucking scared of giving it all away by accident. She'd already shared too much with Angier the other night.

She didn't want to risk exposing herself more.

'Tate,' Angier called using the mind-link, and for a second she was completely surprised at his sudden voice in her head. They were on a stage surrounded by numerous humans. There was no way anyone would suspect a thing, but still, she hadn't thought that he would use the link all of a sudden.

'Just look into my eyes, and forget that anyone's around. It's just you and me. Like how we did it perfectly in your room,' Angier mumbled earnestly as he stared into her panic-filled eyes, the firm expression on his face not betraying even an ounce of the uncertainty she was feeling.

Tatum sighed soundlessly, 'I'll try.'

Angier nodded with a smile that calmed her very core, and took both her hands in his as he started his line once again, "This holy shrine, the gentle . . ."

And that time around when they'd rehearsed the scene, Tatum had done her very best to avoid looking anywhere except the oceanic depths of his aquamarine eyes. While it certainly helped her forget about all the outside factors messing with her concentration, the way they held each other's gazes did nothing but put Tatum's emotions on a spin.

At times like these, when the connection between them ran so deep and profound, it was almost possible for her to be able to convince herself that this wasn't entirely one-sided—whatever this between them was.

Even at that moment, the way his eyes seemed to be glued to her face as if she was the most beautiful person he'd laid eyes on, as if being in her very presence was reverent, as if he would give anything for just a little taste of her lips . . .

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." Angier said, breaking Tatum out of her thoughts.

All this acting like being in love did not help her.

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." Tatum flirted back, pushing away her deepest worries and vulnerabilities with herculean effort as she let the anticipation of what's about to happen to be reflected in her cornflower blue eyes for the world to see.

She must be doing something right because her sharp Wolf senses picked up an excited gasp from Mrs. G's side.

Angier's blue-green eyes darkened as well, and the way they darted quickly to her lips appreciatively sent a shiver of undeniable excitement racing through her spine. Because no matter how much she'd dreaded this, the truth was that she'd been waiting for it to happen way more than that.

She'd worry about how bad it was gonna leave her heart shredded, later. She didn't think he could cause her any more pain that she'd already been through. At least this way, she'd take the scenic route filled with heart-fluttering, nerve-wracking, belly-tingling kisses.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take." And then, his lips were on hers before she could psych herself up too much over it and giver herself an aneurysm.

This time she was more prepared. She knew what was coming. She knew how good his lips would feel, and she knew one-hundred percent that when he lightly ran his tongue over her lower-lip discreetly in an almost naughty manner—which confused her as to why he did it because this scene didn't require tongue on stage—she would lose her mind over the lick of fire that it sent through her insides.

That doesn't mean that it made any of it less amazing.

In fact, Tatum learned that day that the second time you kiss someone felt way more amazing than the first, because this time you have a rhythm, you know the way they would move, and there will be no awkward clash of teeth or bumping of noses or any of that.

This time it was just pure fun.

And hot.

All too soon, they had to pull away because the scene called for it—yes, they were acting, not kissing for real—and Tatum wet her lips discreetly to taste the flavor of him one last time on her lips before they had to kiss again. Angier's eyes darkened enough at that that they resembled a shade of midnight blue, and Tatum realized belatedly that the swipe of her tongue across her lips hadn't gone unnoticed with the two of them standing so close to each other.

Dammit. Did he suspect something?

She didn't have more than a moment to deliberate that because Angier continued, "Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged." (Now, my sin has been taken from my lips by yours.)

Tatum smirked, unable to help herself at that cheesy line, but thankfully Mrs. G didn't comment anything, "Then have my lips the sin that they have took." (Then do my lips now have the sin they took from yours?)

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again," (Sin from my lips? You're encouraging crime with your sweetness. Give me my sin back.) Angier leaned forward once again, taking her face in his hands as he kissed the hell out of her.

If it weren't for the fact that they were surrounded by an audience, Tatum would've let out an antagonized cry at this sweet torture. His lips were soft on hers as he took the lead—she could be an Alpha in their world, but here she was just Juliet, after all—and the way they moved over hers oh-so-slowly like a scene out of a 1950's romcom was frustrating, to say the least.

And the reason why it was frustrating was because it was so good.

The delicious slide of those soft plump lips across hers was almost too much to take. She instantly wanted more. She wanted to run her hand up his back and rake her fingernails across his taut muscles, wanted to grab a fistful of that gorgeous hair and tilt his head the way she wanted and plunge her tongue into his mouth.

She wanted to ravage him.

But instead, they were stuck kissing with closed lips like a couple shy about PDA.

They pulled back slightly panting and out of breath, and the way Angier's eyes were heavy-lidded and hazy and the way his cheeks were flushed made her thrilled. It was only a natural physical reaction to their kiss. But no matter what, the possibility that he wasn't totally unruffled could maybe mean something made her a lot happier than it should.

I never said it's just a kiss.

His words from Friday evening had been playing on a loop in her mind, and she'd dissected and overanalyzed the whole conversation countless times over the weekend. The one downside to her secrecy was, she couldn't tell Seneca the whole thing and get another person's view on it. She'd wanted to, but she hadn't mustered up the courage to confess yet.

And thinking back to that evening, Tatum had obviously realized that she'd given away much more than she'd normally be comfortable with. In the heat of the moment, her insecurities had risen and she had said some things that could be taken in an entirely different way if she accepted that she might be interested in Angier that way.

And even his words could be taken as jealousy if seen in that light.

But Tatum had reassured her alarmed herself that he wouldn't suspect anything, because if his words hadn't been laced with jealousy—which they weren't, she was sure of that—it made it abundantly clear that he didn't see her as anything but his platonic best friend and that put his thoughts in a place where he'd never suspect that she might be into him.

"You kiss by th' book," (You kiss as if you've studied how to.) Tatum said her line with yet another smirk, forcing her mind to get back to the scene in hand.

"Madam, your mother craves a word with you." Nora Andrews—the freshman who played the nurse—interrupted Angier's retort as Romeo, and Tatum took her cue to quickly leave.

She felt like she could finally breathe when she moved to the side. Reflexively, her eyes searched the crowd and landed on Seneca, Micajah and Francesca—who was seated among the audience because she didn't have any appearances till the end of the scene—and she felt a bolt of real nervousness when Seneca narrowed her sharp grey eyes on her. She could feel the heat of the glare coming from Francesca beside her too, but somehow, the intensity of Seneca's was too much for Tatum to even consider wondering about Angier's jealous Mate.

Uh-oh. I can now see why Seneca's reputed to be scary.

Tatum swallowed down the quick spike of nervous guilt at the thought of what she'd hidden, and from the looks of it, it wasn't so hidden now, after all.

"Sorry," She mouthed with an apologetic expression, hoping that she hadn't offended her too much by this omission of truth.

"You better explain," Seneca mouthed back with a glare that could make hell freeze over.

Damn.

"I promise," Tatum mouthed quickly and nodded as she went back to the stage for her next scene with Nora where she discovered Romeo's identity, taking another deep breath to rid her mind of all these conflicting thoughts for the second.

But what she couldn't ignore was the fact that Seneca had seemed to catch on to what had happened almost instantly, and that just made it clear how transparent Tatum was.

So the question here was, had Angier realized too?

Or had he known all along, and had just been laughing along with his Mate over how dumb she was?

If he did know, then how much did he know?

Did he know about all the tears she'd shed over him?

Did he know that she was in love with him?

She almost didn't want to know.

~ * ~

Question: Yeah...I had to show a repeat of the kiss on stage. I thought it was necessary. Was that too repetitive?

Cause I hate it when books get repetitive. Please shoot me before letting that happen. I never want to write like that, so I appreciate your honest criticism. No offense will be taken.

NEXT UPDATE: JULY 27

thanks for reading! xx

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