Page 81 of Rebel Romeo

“Are they?” Ellis asks innocently. And he still sounds nervous as hell.

“It’s not a question, Ellis,” Holden calls out, his patience wearing thin. “That should be sarcastic. You know Skyler is full of shit here. Keep going.”

“Are they?” Ellis tries again. Only this time it’s cheesy and forced.

I desperately try to cling to the moment, aching to find my Skyler despite Ellis. “Yes. They are.”

“You’re a liar!” Ellis shouts and I do my best not to wince. He sounds like a five year old yelling at his mother in a tantrum, not like a man desperate and terrified of losing his true love. Ellis launches toward me, grasping my face in clammy hands. He pulls me to his lips at a weird angle and with so much force that I yelp, completely caught off guard even though I knew the kiss was coming.

Unfortunately, my shrill cry startles him and he loses his balance. Instead of connecting in an intense liplock, he slams his forehead directly into mine.

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” I shout, clutching my head.

From the audience, I hear a female snicker and I’m not sure if it’s Missy or Addison.

“Jesus Christ!” Before I can react, Holden is on stage in front of me, inspecting my head. “Are you okay?”

Ellis is holding his own head as he comes over to me. “I’m so sorry, Kate!”

“What the hell was that, Ellis?” Holden presses, not yelling, but voice firm.

“I-I don’t know! You said to be aggressive! I was being aggressive!”

Holden cups my jaw, tilting my face to the light. “It doesn’t look too bad. A little red. Let’s get you some ice?—”

“I don’t need ice,” I say.

“I can’t have a leading lady with a goose egg on her forehead.”

Before I can object, Maggie is there, handing Ellis and me both an ice pack from the first aid kit. Holden takes the cold pack from her and gently presses it to my forehead. Nothing in this world feels as good as Holden’s hands on me and I finally give in to the sensation, closing my eyes and sighing.

“Why don’t we take five?” Holden asks.

I shake my head. “We don’t have time for five.” I take the ice pack from him and toss it on the edge of the stage. “We need to get this show blocked,” I add, whispering. In some ways, I don’t even care if Ellis hears me, but I’ve been in his shoes before. I don’t want to torture the poor guy if I can help it.

“I’m sorry,” Ellis adds. “Holden, I know you’re not supposed to do this, but can you just show me how you want this scene to look?”

For the briefest second, there’s panic in Holden’s eyes. “Show you?”

“Yeah. I’ve only been watching Nolan and taking notes for a few days and you two never ran this scene.”

Holden mutters a curse and runs his hands through his unruly hair. It’s gotten longer, chaotic, not having had a cut since the start of rehearsals, but it only serves to make him look even sexier.

“Are you okay with this?” Holden asks.

No.

“Sure.”

My eyes shift to where Missy sits in the audience, her arms crossed. I’m kidding myself when I say this is no different than our private rehearsals we’d had for two weeks. On paper, it’s the same. Two people running a scene, working on characterization and blocking.

But the energy now is different. We have an audience… one of whom is Holden’s girlfriend. Of sorts. Or at least, I assume she’s still his girlfriend. I haven’t heard anything otherwise since her kiss with Nolan.

Holden closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. When he opens them, his intensity is so thick, it could fill the room in a fog. “Tell me you don’t want me.” He’s not even holding a script. Somewhere along the lines directing this show, he’s memorized every last word.

Shit. One line.

One line is all it takes for the sparks to sizzle to life between us. The electric tether that’s always bound us when onstage together ignites once more and I have to remind myself to breathe.

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