Chapter Eight

Maggie

Rehearsal feels like walking into a different world today, one where Jonah and I have this invisible thread connecting us. Everything’s the same—our duet, the choreography, the subtle competition among the cast—but everything is different.

I’m acutely aware of him: the way his deep voice fills the room, the way he adjusts the mic stand with casual confidence, and especially the way his eyes find mine every chance they get.

I feel shy around him, which is so unlike me. I fumble with my water bottle, avoid meeting his gaze for too long, and focus way too hard on my own feet. It’s not that I regret last night, not even close, but being here, in this room, surrounded by other people, feels surreal. Like I’m wearing a sign that says I let Jonah Saxon into my bed.

Jonah, of course, seems completely at ease. He gives me space like he knows I need a little time to process. But he still finds ways to touch me—his hand brushing mine as he passes me a pen, a steadying hand on my back when we move into position for our duet. Little things, subtle enough that no one else would notice, but enough to send sparks up my spine.

When rehearsal finally ends, we linger near the doorway while everyone else files out. I’m packing my bag, pretending to search for something I don’t need, when Jonah leans against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with a small, knowing smile.

“So,” he says, his voice low and warm, “how about dinner tonight?”

My heart skips a beat. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” he says, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “I know this little Italian place a few blocks from here. Good wine, great lasagna.” His grin is boyish and a little cocky. It makes my stomach flip.

I smile back, the word “yes” already on the tip of my tongue until I remember. “Oh no,” I groan, slumping my shoulders. “I can’t. My sister, brother-in-law, and their family are coming to town tonight. We’re having dinner at my place. I completely forgot.”

Jonah’s expression flickers, just for a second. Disappointment quickly masked with a shrug. “No problem. Family comes first. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

But it is a problem. Not seeing him tonight feels like missing out on something I didn’t know I needed. And the way his shoulders drop, the way he avoids my gaze —it makes me feel awful. Before I can overthink it, the words tumble out.

“Do you want to come?”

Jonah blinks caught off guard. “Come where?”

“To dinner. With my family,” I blurt out, my cheeks heating. “It’s probably way too soon, and you’ll never want to see me again after spending an evening with my sisters, but… I don’t know. I want to see you tonight.”

He stares at me for a moment, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m serious. Then, to my surprise, he smiles, soft and genuine, a smile that makes my heart do somersaults.

“I’d love to,” he says simply.

“You would?”

“Yeah,” he says, stepping closer until I can feel the warmth of him. “You want me there. That’s all I need to know.”

I bite my lip, feeling both excited and incredibly nervous. “Okay. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. My family’s kind of crazy.”

He chuckles, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I think I can handle it.”

I nod, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. “Okay. Seven o’clock at my sister Rosie’s. I’ll text you the directions.”

“Seven it is,” he says, his voice soft but firm.

As we head out of the theater together, I can’t help but feel like tonight is going to change everything.

***

Jonah

Getting ready to head to Rosie and Alex Young’s house feels like prepping for a gig, except I can’t shake the nerves. Normally, I’d just show up, charm the room, and move on, but this is different. Maggie’s family? This is her world, and I’m stepping into it.

I pace my apartment, debating what to wear. My usual style of jeans, boots, and maybe a leather jacket feels too casual. But going formal would scream “try hard.” Finally, I settle on dark jeans, a black sweater, and a wool coat. Clean, simple. Hopefully, it says, I’m serious about your sister and I’m not a bad guy.

As I grab my keys, I pause for a second, staring at the door. It hits me how fast this is happening—how fast she’s happened. Maggie isn’t just a fling. She’s already under my skin in ways I didn’t expect, and the idea of her family not liking me makes me more nervous than I want to admit.

On my way out, I plan to stop for a bottle of wine. Safe. Classic. But then I think about flowers. Would that be too much? I hesitate, imagining Maggie’s expression if I showed up with a bouquet. She’s the kind of woman who’d notice something like that, who’d appreciate it. I want to make a good impression, not just with her family but with her.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking my thoughts. Vera. Of course.

“Yeah?” I answer, stepping onto the street.

“Jonah,” she says, brisk as always. “I need to see you after your final rehearsal.”

“Why?” I duck into a wine shop, scanning the shelves for something Italian and decent-looking.

“Final details,” Vera says, like that explains everything. “You’ve done a great job staying out of trouble, and we want to keep it that way through the performance. You’ve been under the radar for weeks. Let’s finish strong.”

I grab a bottle of red that looks fancy enough and head to the counter. “You make it sound like I’ve been on parole.”

“You’re a rock star,” Vera replies dryly. “It’s the same thing. Can you meet me at 4:30?”

I grunt in agreement as I pay for the wine. “Fine. Anything else?”

“No. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

I hang up, tucking the bottle under my arm as I step back onto the street. It hits me that the performance is tomorrow. Time’s flown by in a blur of rehearsals, late-night chats with Maggie, and this growing thing between us. Somehow, everything’s happening at once, and it feels big.

But I can’t think about that now. Tonight, I’ve got one job: survive dinner with Maggie’s family.

I duck into a florist on the way, my eyes scanning the display. Roses feel like too much, but I spot a bouquet of white lilies with just a touch of greenery. Elegant, understated. Perfect. As I hand over my card, I picture Maggie’s smile when I give them to her, and my nerves ease just a little.

As I get out of the back of the cab, the cool evening air sharpens my focus. This isn’t just about impressing her family. This is about her. Maggie Stone has walked into my life and turned it upside down, and the truth is, I don’t mind one bit.

Whatever happens tonight, I’m all in.