Page 76 of Broken Romeo

I draw in a quick, sharp breath of air through my teeth. “You want me back that badly? That you’ll risk your debut directorial gig?”

Holden gives a single, solemn shake of his head. “That’s how much I believe in you. And in us as a team… because I know it’s not a risk at all.”

With a deliberate step forward, he towers over me, controlled, but his primal ferocity sits dormant below the surface.

Reaching up, I skim my fingertips across the coarse stubble on his sculpted jaw. The flickering florescent lights accent the shadows beneath his sharp cheekbones and strong nose. Pinched lines collect near the corners of his worried frown, and his amber eyes glint with genuine remorse.

“I want you to come back to the show,” he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. I open my mouth to speak, but he presses his index finger to my lips. “But before you do… before you’re officially under my employ again—”

He leans forward and in a smooth movement, his mouth presses to mine in a mindlessly drugging kiss. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and everything I’ve feared in a single action, but I’m powerless against his kisses.

The shock of pleasure steals what little breath is left in my lungs, and I bury my fingers into the soft tangle of his hair. His arms curl around my waist, pulling me firmly against the hard plane of muscle that is his chest. The first eager stroke of his tongue against mine draws a strangled moan from deep in my throat.

He backs me against the wall, lips never leaving mine, and hoists me so that I’m sitting on the railing, his grip firm against the backs of my thighs. Dazed in pleasure, my world narrows to nothing but his kiss, his touch, and I arch into his body, his arousal pressing between my legs.

With a growl, he tears his mouth from mine and gently lowers me back to the floor, chest heaving with each pant.

“Fuck!” Thrusting his hands into his hair, he turns away from me and paces a few steps.

I smooth my hair and press my fingers to my lips, already swollen from his bruising kiss. A shudder trickles down my spine, and even though the temperature between us has shifted in an instant, no one sent that memo to my body, still hot and achy and longing for his touch.

“If I asked you to stay with me tonight, would you?” I ask him quietly.

The question draws a fierce, savage gleam in his eyes and the lines of his throat tighten.

“Katherine,” he says, his voice a velvet-soft rasp of pleasure. Torment swirls in his eyes. My name on his lips in that needy, strained voice winds like a silken thread around my heart.

If I hadn’t already been totally and completely bound to this man, I am now.

I swallow. It wouldn’t take much to crack his resolve. A few pleading cries from me and I’m pretty sure he’d take me right here on the landing of the fifth-floor staircase.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “It could ruin us both.”

The pain of rejection spears into my heart like a branding knife.

This.

This is the Holden I know.

Confusing. Frustrating. Hypocritical.

Learning this and holding it like an Ace up my sleeve served me once, but I don’t want to be that girl again. I don’t want to be the girl who clings to that sentiment like driftwood trapped amidst a stormy ocean’s riptide.

“Then why did you kiss me?” I ask.

“Because not kissing you could ruin us both, too.”

“You’re confusing as hell, Holden.”

He shrugs and in a boyish movement stuffs one hand into his pocket, while the other rakes through his mop of dark hair. For a moment, I’m back in college, standing in front of my Romeo, still so uncertain and insecure.

“Some things never change, I guess,” he says and then makes his way down the stairs.

I watch him for a few steps before calling out after him. “Hey, Holden?”

Without a word, he stops and turns to look up at me.

“I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.”

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