The Final Act by Bonnie Dee Page A

fingers, but soft. You’ll develop calluses if you play.”
    Gretchen caught her breath and held it as he stroked each finger in turn and pressed into the fingertips. The intimate gesture aroused her as if he were stroking her body. She exhaled a little whimpering sound. Her cheeks burned.
    “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time.” Once more Jake’s voice was so quiet she had to lean toward him to hear.
    “I wanted to tell you that when you sing ‘My Lover’s Hands’ it’s—” he paused as though looking for the right word—“transcendent.” He looked at her with his somber eyes.
    Gretchen felt like the air had been sucked from the room.
    “It sounds pretentious, but ‘fucking amazing’ doesn’t cut it. Your voice really is special.”
    “Thanks.” She couldn’t tell if the warm glow spreading through her was generated by his words, their joined hands, or her sex, clenching and releasing in slow pulses.
    He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you that.”
    For a second Gretchen thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he released her hand and sat back. Sharp disappointment pricked her.
    Jake rolled another joint, efficiently filling the paper, licking and sealing it. The flash of his pink tongue mesmerized her. He lit the spliff and took a hit before offering it to her.
    She drew in smoke, ignoring the burn in her throat this time, then passed it back to him.
    “Feeling relaxed yet?” he asked.
    Gretchen leaned back against the couch and gazed at the ceiling, watching a spider in its web in a corner. “Yeah, I think I am.”
    “Good.” Jake took another drag and relaxed beside her. “So, is there anyone you left behind in Ohio?”
    “No.” Gretchen’s eyes drifted half closed and she stared at the light through the fringe of her eyelashes. “I had a boyfriend during high school, but we broke up when he left for college. I stayed home and went to community college, dated a little, but no one special. After I graduated, I worked for my uncle and now I’m here.”
    Jake turned his head toward her. “How old are you?”
    “Twenty-one.”
    “Shit. You’re so young.”
    “Not that young.” Gretchen was tired of everyone commenting on her age. “Why? How old are you?”
    “Twenty-six.”
    “Ancient,” she scoffed.
    “And you’ve already graduated from college?”
    “It was a two-year Associate’s degree. Not a big deal.”
    “Then you just decided to be an actress one day and did it,” Jake reiterated.
    “‘You can’t succeed if you don’t try’, my mom always says, and my dad told us kids to ‘follow your dreams’.” She laughed. “Of course it didn’t stop them from being really upset when I told them I was going to New York, but they got over it.”
    “They sound nice, a real wholesome family.”
    Gretchen glanced at him. His tone made her wonder if his home life had been less pleasant. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”
    Jake took another toke. “Not that interesting. I’ve been knocking around with one band or another since high school, working odd jobs when I had to. Guess this is my big break. At least it’s regular work.” Gretchen noticed he didn’t say anything about his family. He offered her the joint again.
    “No thanks. I’ve had enough.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the buoyant sensation in her head. “This is really nice.”
    Jake’s chuckle was toasty warm. She felt like she could wrap herself in the sound.
    She listened to the music, head bobbing slightly with the beat. Jake’s arm was pressed against hers, warm and solid. The back of his hand brushed hers, then he turned his hand and curled his long fingers around hers.
    Gretchen smiled and grasped his warm hand. Time slipped past as they sat listening to music and simply holding hands. Her eyes opened when she felt him shifting toward her. He was facing her and only a foot away.
    “Can I kiss you?” he whispered.
    In reply, she leaned toward him.
    Jake released her hand