Page 107 of Broken Romeo
“No.”
I seethe, my rage mounting. “Maybe you’re trying to make me more memorable as my director? Is that it?”
He stares at me, baffled. “Memorable? What are you talking about?”
“I heard you after my audition,” I say, drawing a step nearer to him. “I came back into the theater to get my bag and I heard you tell Simon, no, lie to Simon, that you didn’t know me well in college. That I was unmemorable.”
There’s a slight hesitation in his hawk-like eyes before the memory appears to click. “Oh. I wasn’t talking about you to Simon.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, really? So there was someone else from undergrad who auditioned for you that day?”
“Yes. Addison.”
A soft gasp barely escapes my tight throat. “What?”
He nods. “Yes, Addison. From undergrad. She emailed me asking for the favor of the audition. I swear, Katherine. I wasn’t talking about you. You are anything but unmemorable. You trust me, right?”
I want to trust him. So badly.
But I’ve been here before. I’ve been charmed by the sincerity that even he wants to be true.
The set of his face softens and he moves to step toward me. I counter the movement with a step back, holding up my hand. “Tell me why you don’t want me to go to this party tomorrow? Is it because of Missy?”
His eyes drift shut, and his head falls back. Lights from above spill across his features, highlighting his strong, broad nose and angled jaw. Finally, he looks back at me and says, “You just have to trust me. I’m trying to take care of you. Protect you.”
That’s not a no.
Something in me snaps with that bullshit answer.
“Same ol’ Holden, different day, huh? This is the same shit you used to pull back in college.” I take a step into him.
For years, I feared this moment—being in front of him. Confronting our demons after all this time. But now I see him. I see him for the same terrified boy he’s always been and the man he still hasn’t become.
“Always with the same excuses. And the same non-answers under the guise of protecting me. Well, guess what, Holden? I’m not your mother. I can protect myself.”
He steps back, pain visibly tightening his features. “Low blow, Katherine,” he says, his voice dangerously quiet.
But I don’t back down. My fists tighten at my sides. “I’m no longer the eighteen-year-old virgin who needs you to shelter me.” I give a humorless laugh and shake my head. “And you know what? I never was. That was a label you put on me. And I’m done letting you tell me who I am. If you decide you want to talk to me like an adult and tell me a good enough reason why I shouldn’t go to this party, then I’m all ears. Otherwise, I’ll see you there.”
I snatch my script off the lip of the stage and take my mark on the center ex. “Now, let’s get to work, shall we?”
For once, I’m not running away.
For once, I stay and fight.
Not for Holden, but for me.
It might end badly, but at least this time, I’ll be ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Jill!” I shriek as I tear through my closet. “What the hell am I supposed to wear to some opening night party? How fancy do they get?”
Jill pokes her head into my room, and I can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her.
She’s gorgeous as ever—and eccentric as ever, too. Her mop of fiery curls is pulled into a high messy bun that has multiple pens and highlighters poking out of it. One pair of glasses rests on the bridge of her nose and a second pair, her readers, are pulled on top of her head, acting like a sort of headband.
“What did Nolan say?” she asks.