Page 105 of Broken Romeo

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Page 105 of Broken Romeo

This was why I couldn’t date.

Couldn’t fall in love again.

This was what happened when you fell in love with a Dorsey and I wasn’t about to subject any more women to the poisonous well that was my family.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I’m covered in emotional bruises and scars.

And I can trace every last one of them to Holden.

Ever since that phone call last night where he discovered Nolan hanging out at my apartment, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I’ve spent the whole rehearsal today walking on eggshells around Holden—waiting for the moment he yells. Or snaps at me for forgetting a line. Or fires me.

But that moment doesn’t come.

We’re, dare I say, acting professionally.

Which is actually more unnerving than our bickering of past days.

For most people, one day is hardly something to celebrate. For us, it’s a notable bronze medal. Maybe if we’re lucky, we can finish the week without an altercation.

I’m more and more excited as I watch the clock—our group rehearsal is coming to an end, and the private rehearsal with Holden drawing nearer. I almost don’t recognize myself. Who is this girl who can look at the man who broke her heart and not want to smash a window?

The cold, wintery bitterness I’ve held onto for so long is thawing, melting and revealing that beneath my surface, a warm summer has been waiting to emerge.

I’m … happy.

Like, actually, truly happy. Sure, I’m exhausted and working constantly, but I don’t have this unending cloud of doom suspended above me and the fear of its inevitable torrential downpour.

Upstage, Holden chats with Nolan and they’re both smiling. A smiling Holden. Talking to the actor I just kissed onstage.

I barely recognize this man before me.

Holden claps his hands together to get our attention. “Okay! Great job today, everyone. Now, get out of here. Go have a life.” He points in my direction, a wide grin illuminating his gorgeous, chiseled face. “Except for you, of course. Your life is here, with me.”

I freeze on my way down from the stage, my face going hot at his words.

Nolan touches my arm as he passes me, his eyes bright and friendly as he gives me a playful wink. “Is he right? That your life is here… with him?”

A swallow is thick at the back of my throat and slow to go down.

“These days, it feels like it.” I laugh, but the sound comes out strangled in my poor attempt to try to play off Holden’s comment.

“Too bad,” Nolan says, grabbing a clean towel from the pile Maggie keeps for us offstage. He dabs the bit of sweat dripping down his temple. “I wanted to see if you wanted to be my date at a party tomorrow night.”

Date. The word chokes in my brain, sputtering like a dying engine. I thought Nolan and I had come to an understanding the other night. At the sight of my shocked expression, he rolls his eyes and smacks me with the rolled-up towel.

“My friend date,” he clarifies. “It’s an industry party. The cast of Pillow Fight is having their opening weekend party. It will be flush with industry folks—producers, directors, actors. You should come. It would be good for them to see your face.”

I bite my lip, hesitating with a glance at Holden across the stage, talking to Maggie. I’m not sure why I have this weird desire to ask him permission to go, but it’s bullshit. I don’t need permission from my director or my ex-boyfriend to have a life outside of the theater.

“Come on,” Nolan coaxes. “It’ll be fun. Everyone gets drunk and starts performing numbers from their shows. It’s hilarious.”

A flash of heat sweeps up my neck. “Oh, God. We aren’t expected to perform from our show, are we?”

Nolan drops his cheek to his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to perform in front of people? How the hell are you going to make it to opening night?”




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