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“Are you also going to thank me for the kiss?”

“Like you said, that was barely a kiss, and I’ve had better.”

“Oh, you have, have you?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Well, dear Rosie Meadows, have you had better than this?”

This time, he stands up and pulls me up and into his arms. I look up at him, my heart fluttering as he leans down and presses his lips against mine. I feel his fingers running through my hair, and this time, the kiss is intense. It’s passionate. His tongue slips into my mouth, and I press my hands against his chest. I feel like I’m going to faint from how wonderful it feels. He runs his fingers down my back to my ass and squeezes lightly. As he deepens the kiss, he pulls me into him harder so that I can feel his hardness pressed against my stomach, my breasts pressed against his chest. He kisses me passionately, his tongue playing with mine, and I can’t help but melt into him. For those few moments, I almost forget where I am, until he pulls away from me.

“What was that?” I ask him breathlessly.

His light-brown eyes are teasing as they gaze down at me. “You can’t make a comment like you’ve had better and not expect me to take it as a challenge,” he says. “But now I shall go and join the others, and we’ll wait to see your show.”

“Brett …” I gaze at him, and he presses his finger against my lips.

“We’ll talk later. You need to focus on being the funniest person you know right now.”

With that, he steps back out to the front, where the audience is sitting.

“Oh my gosh, what just happened?” I mumble to myself, feeling breathless. “Oh my gosh, that was real. You cannot tell me that was fake.” I take a deep breath and lecture myself. Now is not the time to be wondering about a kiss from Brett, Rosie.

Marcus pops backstage. “Hey there, Rosie.”

“Hi,” I say, trying to ignore the way his eyes keep searching mine, like he wants to say something.

“So good to see you. You’re going to be up in a few minutes, okay?” he says finally.

I inhale. I don’t need any awkwardness right before I go onstage.

“Okay. That sounds good.” My squeaky voice sounds like a scared mouse, and I grimace.

“Stand close to the curtain, and when you hear me say your name, come out and start your set. You’ll have ten minutes. I’ll wave to you from the back when you have two minutes left.”

“Sounds good.” I nod as he walks back out.

Oh my God, this is it, I think to myself. This is actually it.

I rub my forehead, count to ten, and breathe in a few more times through my nose to calm my nerves.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the first time ever at the Santa Capinari Comedy Cabin, we have local performer Rosie Meadows!” Marcus sounds absolutely hyped.

I run out onto the stage, waving.

There are way more people here than I remember seeing when I first came in, but I try not to take in the crowd too much. Instead, I walk over to the microphone and wave at everyone.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Rosie Meadows. And, no, I’m not sweet like a rose, and, no, I don’t run through meadows, but if anyone wants to give me some sunflowers at the end of the evening, that will not go unthanked. As you might know, tonight is my debut performance as a comic. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, Let’s get the tomatoes ready. You’re thinking tonight sounds like a good night to get in those shots. Well, let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, I am not good target practice. I’m faster than a deer, and I’m more ferocious than a bear. So, don’t try and aim at me, or you might find out that I don’t care.”

I pause. I try not to groan as the audience stares back at me in anticipation.

“I’m not being funny. I know I’m not being funny.” I take a few deep breaths. “Okay, I need to start my set.”

I look at the front row and see Izzy, Lucia, Sage, Dalton, Roman, and Brett all sitting there, giving me warm smiles.

Brett mouths, You can do this.

It strikes me that he’s so much more supportive than I ever would’ve given him credit for.