Page 12 of Broken Romeo

I press play and hold the phone up to my ear.

Holden’s voice filters from the speaker. “Kate, it’s me. Look, we need to talk. I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone—”

She wasn’t exactly memorable back then. The echo of his voice roils my stomach, and I pull the phone away from my ear to look at the phone number he called from.

The same number as the other twelve messages—Holden’s number.

Holden called me thirteen times.

My breath catches. I haven’t known his number for years. I haven’t known how to reach him, despite the multiple pissed off speeches I’ve memorized through the years. Speeches I thought he’d never hear because I never had a way to contact him…

Until now.

The power of that makes my heart patter against my ribcage with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings.

It’s a power I shouldn’t be trusted with.

I delete the messages and shove my phone back deep into my pocket as Jill gives me a questioning glance. “Who was that?”

My throat tightens. She’s the one person I can’t lie to. “It was him.”

Her eyes go wide, filling with hope. “Maybe—”

“No,” I cut her off.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

Curt finishes taking an order and scribbles some initials onto a cup, then thrusts it at me to make the iced matcha latte. I bend, retrieving the green powder from its container, and toss a scoop in the bottom of the cup.

“Fine,” I concede, uncapping the almond milk. “What were you going to say?”

“Maybe he’s calling to offer you the part—”

“No,” I answer again, shoving the ice scoop into the bin.

“But how do you know?”

“I just do.” I dump the ice into the tea shaker, then push the lid on top. Giving it a good shake, I speak over the clatter. “If you’re being offered a role, the director isn’t the one who calls you. The casting director calls your agent. Then your agent calls you with the contracts that you comb through before there’s any formal acceptance.”

I hate the deflated look on Jill’s face. In some ways, she’s taking this even harder than I am.

Or I’m just that good at shutting off my emotions. Which is the exact reason I didn’t get the part. Because Holden knows me too well. He knows I have trouble connecting, exposing my vulnerable side. Especially with him.

“The only reason Holden would call me himself is if I didn’t get the part, and he thinks this somehow makes him the hero to tell me in person.” I stare into the frothy light green beverage and snap the lid on top, avoiding Jill’s pitying stare.

A deep voice speaks up, resonating over the ambient noise of the coffee shop. “Maybe if you returned my calls, you’d know what the hell I wanted.”

My breath stalls halfway out of my lungs, and I snap my gaze up.

Holden.

CHAPTER FIVE

It can’t be Holden. He can’t be here.

But it is him, magnificently tall and imposing on the other side of the counter next to Jill. His soft-looking t-shirt offsets the hard lines of his toned biceps. He’s backlit by the crisp sunlight flooding in through our floor to ceiling windows, a scowl carved across his face.

Based on his pissed off expression, it’s obvious he isn’t used to his phone calls not being answered, let alone being unreturned.