Page 10 of Set to Love

“Katie.” Zoe face-palms. “You said your entire conversation was about your being a theatre nerd.”

“It was.”

“So where’s the problem?”

“I know, but . . .” I look at the heavy steel door. “I’m embarrassed, okay? I like him. More than I want to admit. I don’t want his last impression of me to be one of those women who throws herself at an actor and hopes it turns into something more.”

Lina loops an arm around my shoulder. “Cara, I don’t think your young man will see that at all. Quite the opposite. I think he’ll be flattered you stuck around to see him.”

Zoe nods. “I’m with Lina on this one. It sounds like you guys hit it off. For you, Katie, that’s like seeing a shooting star on a cloudy night. You can’t let him get away. You have to chase him down. Seriously. Don’t throw away your shot.”

“Nice Hamilton reference,” I deadpan, though it doesn’t quell the mice gnawing away at the inside of my stomach.

Zoe knows me too well. I am terrified. Tennis, I can handle. Give me a tie-break with the sun in my eyes and I know exactly what to do. But when it comes to men, I’m in uncharted waters. My love life is a graveyard of failed dates and a single relationship in college that ended up being a spectacular disaster.

Most of it is my lack of experience. I can thank my overprotective dad for that. He’s a colonel in the Air Force, and let’s just say there’s a reason I wasn’t in a serious relationship until college. I’ll leave it to your imagination to fill in the blanks, but it usually involved a lot of “yes, sir” and very short porch visits.

“For once in your life, Katie, stop worrying about the logistics,” Zoe says, leaning closer. “Live in the present. Les Mis is in town for two weeks. That means your guy is here for at least that long. That’s two weeks of hanging out. Just see what happens.”

“I can’t do that. I have the Coral Bay qualifier coming up. I can’t afford to get distracted. You know what’s at stake.”

Coral Bay is my make-it-or-break-it moment. I’m putting everything on the line—the last of my savings and my final realistic shot at earning the ranking points I need to qualify for the U.S. Open. If I fail there, I’m done. I’m already coachless. And soon, I’ll be homeless. I can’t afford a two-week fling.

“Distractions are only dangerous if you’re scared of them,” Zoe counters. Her eyes are fixed on the stage door. It opens, and the first wave of actors emerges. “Besides, you need a life outside the court. You can’t play tennis forever.”

Lina taps my shoulder. “Katie,” she whispers into my ear. “There he is.”

We stop chatting. The theatre security guard steps back, and yup, there’s Max. He’s wearing a charcoal-gray hoodie. His hair is damp and curling at the ends, and his skin still has that faint pinkish glow. Probably from scrubbing off all the stage makeup. He’s laughing with a castmate and looking every inch the carefree, handsome guy, I saw last night.

“Oh, he’s hot,” Zoe says, elbowing me lightly. “Good choice.”

Max signs a few autographs and poses for a selfie. But most of the women’s attention goes to the lead actors who step outside a moment later. Max leans down to shoulder his gear bag and starts heading toward the tour bus idling at the end of the alley.

“Don’t let him get away,” Zoe hisses, giving me a poke in the ribs. “At least get his number before he disappears.”

I don’t know about that, but I do want to thank him for the tickets. “Max,” I call out sticking a hand up and waving it in the air. “Over here.”

He stops and turns, scanning the line of people behind the barricade until he spots me. A grin breaks across his face, and he immediately changes course, weaving through the crowd toward us.

Great. I’ve got his attention. Now what? Panic sets in. I have about thirty seconds to say something that doesn’t sound completely unhinged.

“Max, hi,” I say, though it comes out in a pitch only a golden retriever could hear.

“Katie, you made it,” he says.

“I did. This is, um . . .” My brain chooses this exact moment to perform a hard factory reset. The screen goes black. The cooling fans whine. I turn toward my best friend with wide eyes. For a second, I literally can’t remember her name.

Zoe doesn’t miss a beat. Her eyes sparkle with pure, unadulterated mischief as she saves my life by extending her hand. “I’m Zoe, Katie’s bestie. And this is Lina, her boss.”

“I remember,” Max says. His facial features soften as he turns to Lina. “I’m sorry again for the trouble the blokes caused.”

She waves it off. “It’s in the past, caro. I’m over it.”

Zoe bumps my shoulder lightly, reminding me to say something. “Um, thanks again for the tickets,” I manage, finally finding a normal register. “You were incredible tonight, Max. Seriously. I don’t know how you kept that energy up for three hours, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

A tiny hint of color hits his cheekbones. “Thanks, Katie. That actually means a lot coming from you.”

“Go on,” Zoe mouths to me, barely moving her lips.