"Shar, you okay?"

She sifted her gaze to the blonde in front of her.

"Shar?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

He should know better.

She planted a thin smile on her face. "Why wouldn't I be, Ryan? I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks," he blushed, his eyes briefly lit at her approval. "Kelsie and I have been working on this for a long time, and I'm so glad it's finally going to be put onstage."

"Who wouldn't be? You're so talented, Ry," she crooned, sliding her hand down his silk-covered arm. "I would hire you in an instant."

"Thanks," he grinned, wringing his black hat in his hands. "Will you help me with the costumes this weekend? Apparently Stacy, the girl who would normally do it, transferred right in the middle of our show." Sharpay tsked. "So will you?"

"It's not like I haven't done a quick change before," she teased, looping her arm through his.

"Okay," he nodded, letting out a breath as some of the cast passed by. "I'm nervous."

"Don't be," she said, her gaze narrowing on the girls in leotards. "I'm watching out for you."


"Ryan!" she snapped, the only syllable he'd heard for the past few days. Being assigned to help her with her costume was logical, considering he was her brother, but tiresome at the same time. He figured the director just didn't want to subject anyone to more of Sharpay than they had to, and he seemed to be immune. Well, not immune.

Hands fumbling to push the dress down, he grazed the bottom of her breasts. Swallowing the jolt of guilt, he scrambled to pry the rest of the skintight dress off of her. She bent over to step out of it, her designer underwear clinging to places he had yet to discover. Once, he'd looped his fingers in that and pulled it down about two inches before realizing his mistake. Sharpay was quick, efficient. Within moments she had stepped into the next dress, so carefully laid out for her on the floor. As she yanked it up and over her breasts, he helped pull the backside along, fingers just barely grazing the skin on her back. With a maneuvered tug of the zipper, she marched onstage for the next scene.

Even though he was supposed to be getting ready for his next scene, Ryan would stay and watch until hers was finished, his fingers tangled in the dress she'd abandoned on the floor, still warm and wet with flesh and sweat.