Page 32 of Rebel Romeo

Holden’s attempt at a smile turns brittle, his eyes trained on my arm where Nolan had just touched as though he can see the scorching path his touch left. Tension stirs in the air between us, thick and heady, making it hard to breathe.

I nod, my phone clutched in my hand. All the progress Holden and I have made has unraveled, today being the only exception, and we all know it. “I know,” I croak. “It’s fine. I need to talk to Holden anyway.”

With a final glare at our director, Nolan gives me a hug goodbye, leaving me and Holden standing outside in the humid summer air. A few rare stars wink at us against the navy curtain of the sky—in New York City, only a few of the brightest stars can be seen through the smog and brightly lit night sky. If that isn’t a metaphor for making it in this city, I don’t know what is.

“Look,” I start, “I know my performance has been shit lately. But it’s been really hard to focus with Missy here every day?—”

“I know,” Holden interrupts me. “And I’m sorry about that. I’ve closed rehearsals off to her and other producers except for one night a week. At least for now, until we get into tech week. So you can prepare to see her and possibly other producers every Thursday, but otherwise, it’s just us and the crew.”

I blink. Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel hearing his apology. It came so seamlessly. So effortlessly. So unlike the guy from five years ago who had to grind out the words through a clenched jaw and a white knuckled grip on an apology frappe. “So… you’re not asking me to stay back to ream me out for sucking lately?”

He shakes his head no, his eyes flashing. Reaching up, he brushes a fallen piece of hair back from my eyes and I shiver despite the summer heat surrounding us. “You could never suck, Katherine.”

The flash of emotion burns in my sinuses and I squeeze my eyes shut against the tingling. With a pause, I take a long, slow breath in. It’s the first compliment he’s paid me all week and I hate that it affects me as much as it does. How badly I seek his approval.

I don’t want to look up into his eyes, but his looming presence doesn’t give me any choice. Blinking my eyes open, I look up to meet his eyes as tears burn the backs of mine.

A smile twitches on his annoyingly full, wet lips. “Good girl,” he whispers. “I’ve missed this vulnerability.” Then, he lifts his hand again and brushes a finger to the space between my brows. The place he knows I feel my tears first.

Good girl.

Those two words hit my bloodstream like a line of cocaine, fast and potent, sending a shiver of delight trembling across my body. On cue, my nipples pebble, tightening against the soft cotton of my shirt and begging for his mouth.

My body can’t help but react to Holden, even when I know with every ounce of my mind that I shouldn’t. “You can’t do that,” I whisper. “You can’t call me your good girl, then go home to her. It’s not fucking fair and you know it.”

Abruptly, he drops his hand and mutters a curse. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I really did just follow you out here to ask a professional question.”

“Really?” I ask, doubt dripping from my voice.

“I was hoping we could take a field trip tonight. Together… for rehearsal tomorrow.”

“A field trip?

He nods. “You’ll get paid overtime, of course. And you don’t have to say yes, but I think it will help. We were really making progress before when it was just you and me rehearsing after hours?—”

“Before you went down on me and then got back together with your ex all in the same night?” I blurt out.

At least he has the decency to look ashamed. A spray of red heats down his neck and he looks at his feet. “Katherine, you have to believe me, this is for the best. It’s in your best interest?—”

I laugh out loud. It’s such an absurd statement and one that only Holden would dare to make. “It’s in my best interest that you hooked up with me and then hours later turned around and got back together with your ex?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s for the best. For both of us. You and me. This thing with Missy and me?—”

“How long will this field trip take?” I’m pretty sick and tired of hearing other people tell me what’s in my best interest. But Holden’s correct about one thing… we were making progress with my character work before everything got derailed.

The vision of Missy holding all of my sheet music her first rehearsal as a producer floods my mind. I need to stay on top. I need to stay one step ahead of her, even if I don’t know where the path is leading me.

It’s an understatement to say my performance hasn’t been great this week and if I’m going to prove to Missy Howl and everyone else that I belong front and center of that stage, then I need to do the work.

Even if that means staying late with Holden.

“An hour,” Holden says. “Tops.”

I give a curt nod and as Holden passes me one of the coffee cups in his hand, my heart sinks the tiniest bit. For all the things we’d learned about each other in college and even these last few weeks, he didn’t remember?—

“It’s tea,” he clarifies. “No dairy.” Then leaning down, he whispers, “You didn’t really believe I forgot, did you?”

From behind his own cup, he grins, taking a triumphant sip, as though he won this round.

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