Page 13 of Broken Romeo
A piece of me thrives on the fact that I’ve gotten under his skin again.
His full lips could be described as delicate if not combined with his five o’clock shadow, strong brow, tanned complexion, and muscled jaw. Together, the features form an achingly beautiful, sculpted face that could fit as easily into a John Wayne western as it could a Renaissance painting.
I’m drawn to him, despite that scowl. Hell, maybe because of that scowl. Desire pulses through me, simmering low in my belly.
“Holden,” Jill greets him with the enthusiasm of a DMV worker.
His austere expression twitches, his acknowledgment of Jill softening the corners of his lips as they curve into a small smile. “Hey, Jill. It’s good to see you again.”
Emotion claws its way up my chest. There was a time when the three of us were friends. When we’d all hang out and watch movies together on the couch in my dorm. I tamp that sentimentality down; there’s no place for it anymore.
Forever in my corner, Jill crosses her arms. “Is it?”
Holden steps forward and gently answers, “Yes.”
With a lift of the paper cup to her mouth, she takes a slurping sip of her London Fog, eyes not leaving him. Then, after she’s taken her time drawing out the silence for an extra moment, she leans an elbow against the counter in a seemingly casual stance and says, “Well, that’s strange. Because we live in the same city, and you could have called any time.”
Holden’s shoulders go taut, but there’s still a humoring lift to the corners of his mouth. “We both know you wouldn’t have answered. Kate got you in the divorce.”
He delivers the final thought directly to me with a wink so natural, I may have missed it if I didn’t know him better.
“I’m working, Holden. Go away,” I mutter, my hips pressing against the counter as I lean to peer around him. With a shake of the matcha latte, I wave at the customer waiting off to the side. But even she’s captivated by Holden—staring at him, not noticing that her drink is ready.
That’s Holden for you. He can command a room and summon the attention of everyone around him by simply taking a step inside. The ‘it’ factor, our professor had called it.
Holden was far from unmemorable. The antithesis to it. The antithesis to me.
I clear my throat, and the woman’s attention snaps to me. She takes the iced matcha and scurries away, a spray of pink flushing across her cheeks.
I glare at Holden. “How the hell did you find me?”
“Find you?” he repeats. “Your resume has your social media links. And this place is all over your TikTok.”
Dammit. Foiled by social media.
“Fine. You want to talk so badly? Let’s talk.” I might as well get this over with. I yank off the apron and toss it on the hook beside the barista bar. “Curt! I’m taking my break!”
Twice as many customers fill the cafe on Saturday than on a workday. And instead of quietly typing on their laptops and sipping coffee, they’re all talking and laughing.
I weave through the tables towards the only free one, passing parents who sit with their screaming little ones while eating a special chocolate croissant breakfast; friends who are catching up on the week’s events over a cup of coffee; and even a pair of lovers snuggling over a steaming cup of coffee after what I can only assume was a successful date last night.
The noise only adds to my jitters.
I plop into a chair at the empty table, folding my arms and glaring at Holden as he takes the seat across from me.
I tap my foot on the floor. “You have five minutes.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I only need three.”
The intensity of his eye contact blankets me, and for a moment, I’m transported back to a time when I thrived on the spiraling whirlwind that was Holden James Dorsey’s attention.
His stare is a caress. Burning heat sweeps from my face down my neck and pulses between my legs. With only a freaking look, he can stimulate me where no man has touched in years. My lungs burn, laboring to keep each one of my breaths steady and even.
Though neither of us speak a word, it’s anything but silent.
I break the staring contest first. “For a guy who only needs three minutes, you sure are wasting them.”
“I want you, Kate.” His velvet voice skims across me like a gust of wind.