Page 119 of Broken Romeo
He clinks the edge of his glass to mine. “Exactly.”
After another sip of my drink, I ask, “So none of those reported shomances were more than just a fling? None of them meant more to you?”
“Only one.” His gaze swings across the room to where Missy is standing, posing in her own photo op, cuddling up to Holden.
“Wait,” I say. “You and Missy were together?”
“During the revival of Les Mis.” Nolan nods, his eyes fastening onto Missy and Holden across the room. She’s angled her body in towards him, her cleavage nearly popping out of her low-cut ruby red dress.
Almost as though she could sense us watching, she catches my eye from across the room and a chill prickles down my spine. She leans into Holden, whispering, her glare locked onto me the entire time.
Holden’s arm snakes around her waist. His other hand casually dips into his pocket as she tilts her head into the crook of his neck, nuzzling him as another camera flashes, taking their picture.
My blood runs cold at the sight.
Swiveling around, I shift so that my back is to them.It’s too hard to watch. They’re posing for photos, I tell myself. Exactly the same way Nolan and I are. It’s all for the publicity.
Holden has a lot of faults, but he’s not a cheater. He wouldn’t do that to me… and even though I’m not Missy’s biggest fan, I know he wouldn’t do that to her, either.
I look back to my date for the night as a realization hits me. “Wasn’t Holden in that production of Les Mis, too?”
“It was the Broadway debut for all three of us. The papers ate up our love triangle.”
I had no idea. Granted, back then I made a point of ignoring any and all papers that may have talked about or featured Holden.
Nolan clears his throat, and in a blink, the glimpse of the brooding man with the unrequited love is gone. Sweet, goofy Nolan is back in his place, shrugging nonchalantly at me.
“That’s when I really learned that having a romance with one of your co-stars is a surefire way to not only make headlines but also sell tickets.”
The memory of Holden’s face between my legs pulses through my body. It was only a couple of hours ago when he had been devouring me, making me tremble.
I clear my throat and with it, attempt to clear my thoughts.
“We should probably go say hi to them,” Nolan says, swiping his palm down his face.
Dread rolls in my belly at the thought of having to go talk to Missy and Holden. Together.
I’d rather lay in a pit filled with copperheads.
“You go,” I say to Nolan. “I need to use the restroom.”
He glances at me, his thumb at my waist drawing small figure eights across the silk of the dress. “You sure? I don’t mind waiting—”
“No, I’ll come find you in a bit.”
Or maybe I’ll just lock myself in the bathroom until the party's over.
“Okay.” With a big boyish grin, he drops a kiss to my cheek. It’s sweet and playful and I get the sense that although we’re playing up this “date” thing for the cameras, he’s being completely honest that he doesn’t see me that way anymore.
I shrink back towards the bathroom, and just as I think I’ve cleared the crowd, I bump into someone. Still hopeful that I can slink away unseen, I mutter a quick apology over my shoulder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can sneak out of the party altogether and Irish goodbye this thing.
I’m even doubting my plan to confront Senator Dorsey, which had seemed like such a good idea only a couple hours ago.
“I can still taste you.” There’s a wicked inflection to Holden’s deep voice.
The soft rumble nearly takes my breath away.
I brush the side swept hair out of my eyes and glance up to find him towering over me, just over my shoulder.