Bad Romeo (Page 68)

Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(68)
Author: Leisa Rayven

I am a sexual Goddess.

Holt moans long and loud as he finishes, and I kiss his face as he lies there struggling to get back his breath. Then I go and get a warm washcloth to help clean him up.

When we’re finished, he pulls his shirt on and buttons his jeans, and I get a rush of emotion so powerful I don’t know what to do with it. He must see something on my face, because he pulls me into his chest.

“Cassie? Hey…” He cups my face, concern coloring his voice. “Do you regret doing it? I was joking about pressuring you. I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to. I’m not that much of an asshole.”

I laugh and shake my head. “No, I really enjoyed it, I just…” I blow out a breath and look at him. “I’m just so happy that I managed to make my non-boyfriend come. Is it wrong that I’m proud of myself?”

He laughs and strokes my cheek. “No. Your non-boyfriend is also proud of you. And that was your first time? Damn, woman. I hate to think what you’re going to be like after a bit of practice.”

“I’m going to ruin you for all other women,” I say seriously.

He nods. “Too late.”

He gives a deep sigh before grabbing his book and opening it to where we left off. “I hate to say it, but we really should get back to studying. Unless of course you want me to … uh … you know, return the favor.”

I smile and shake my head. “No, I’m good. Although I do have one request before we get all serious with the book learnin’ again.”

“A request?” he asks with a smirk. “Okay. What is it?”

“Kiss me.”

FIFTEEN

GREEN-EYED MONSTER

Two Weeks Later
Westchester, New York
The Grove

I look at my hands, too nervous to face him but knowing from the heat at my back that he’s there.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. “If you believe the stories about me, I’m a killer. An animal not worthy of love or human kindness.”

“I know. I’ve heard people talk. They’d sooner string you up and dance at your funeral than for one second open up their mind and let in a little reason. They’re not happy unless they’re miserable, and seeing other people’s flaws helps them overlook what they hate about themselves.”

“But that’s not you?”

“No.” I take a deep breath to calm my runaway pulse and look him square in the eyes. “I may not be the cleverest girl in this town, or the prettiest, or the richest, but I know people as well as anyone can. And though folks speak of your evil, I’ve never seen it. All I’ve seen is a man who’s looking for a second chance but is too proud to demand he gets one.”

He swallows as he brushes the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “You can’t be saying things like that to me, girl. It makes it impossible to not kiss you.”

“That’s what I was going for.”

Then he’s kissing me, slowly, warm lips and soft hands. For a moment I’m confused, because his lips feel different, and his taste is all wrong, but I know those are Cassie’s thoughts, not Ellie’s.

When we pull apart, there’s a huge round of applause as the scene ends. I blink and take Connor’s hand as we face the audience.

Tonight our class is performing script excerpts that have been chosen and directed by the third-year students, and even though it was weird to be paired with Connor instead of Ethan, I did my best to make it work. Our director, Sophie, is in the front row clapping and jumping up and down, so I figure she’s happy with what we’ve achieved.

Connor and I bow and exit the stage, and he gives me a brief hug while the next pair is introduced.

“So, I don’t want to brag or anything,” he says. “But we just kicked ass out there.”

I nod and smile. “That screaming applause was the sound of our awesomeness.”

He laughs as we walk toward the backstage crossover. “I just need to get my shirt, then we’ll head out to watch, okay?”

“Sure.”

“See you back here in a few minutes.”

I’m grateful, because there’s someone I really need to see. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can make out Holt near the lighting cage, pacing and mumbling.

Tonight he’s performing an excerpt from Glengarry Glen Ross with Troy and Lucas, and because we’ve been rehearsing in separate groups all week, I’ve barely seen him.

I walk over and smile. He barely looks at me.

“Hey.” I’m playing nonchalant really well, considering all I want to do is drag him into the shadowy lighting cage and kiss him all over. “How’s it going?”

“Hey.” He keeps pacing, taking deep breaths as he goes.

“You okay?”

“Yep. Great. You?”

He’s being short with me. Avoiding eye contact. I kind of expected a warmer reception, considering our time apart. I think I know what’s wrong, but if I’m right, then he’s being ridiculous.

“Holt—”

“Look, Taylor, I have to warm up, so if you don’t mind…”

He turns away and rolls his neck. It cracks loudly.

I decide not to push. He’ll be going on stage soon, and he needs to focus.

“Do you want to”—I lean in so no one can hear—”you know, snuggle? Or I could give you a foot massage if you have time.”

He sighs but doesn’t turn around. “Nope. I’m fine. I’ll see you later, okay?”

I look around. Apart from Miranda, who’s watching Aiyah and Jack onstage, there’s no one else who can see us, so I wrap my arms around him and hug his back. Then I lay my cheek against his shoulder and inhale.

He smells so damn good, I almost moan.

His body tenses as he whispers, “Cut it out. People can see.”

I squeeze him tighter. “I don’t care. I’ve hugged everyone else tonight. Why shouldn’t I hug the one person I really want to? I’ve missed you.”

For a second he doesn’t say anything, but then his shoulders slump and he places his hand over mine and intertwines our fingers. “Dammit, Taylor … I’ve…” He sighs. “Me too.”

He steps away, but the way he’s looking at me gives away that he’s missed me every bit as much as I’ve missed him.

Maybe more.

I hear footsteps, and Connor appears next to me. Holt’s posture is immediately tense.

“Hey, Ethan. Cassie, ready to go out?”