Page 18 of Broken Romeo
His palm drapes over the script, covering the words, gently pressing it down against my belly.
“You’re locked too much in here.” He brushes the tips of his fingers against my temple. The simple contact of his touch to my face heats the tips of my ears and sends a zip of excitement brushing over my flesh.
His fingers glide down my body without actually touching me. Like a reiki specialist, his hand hovers over my face, then it descends past my throat. The heat of his energy emanates against me, and even though his skin isn’t on mine, I can feel his touch.
He lands with a single brush of his index finger to my sternum, just beside my heart. “I need you to lock in here.”
A ferocious shiver clasps my body.
I can’t. I can’t give him that.
Panic grips my lungs, and I shove up from where I’m lying and push to my feet, pacing the stage like a caged animal.
In many ways, that’s exactly what I am.
“This is acting, Holden! Jesus. Of course I’m in my head. I’m dissecting a character.”
If he’s startled by my outburst, he doesn’t show it.
In fact, he almost looks like he expected it.
He rakes a hand through that dark brown hair and stands as well, cutting my path mid-stride. He looms over me, powerful and hot, his woodsy scent enveloping me. “There’s not much to dissect here, Kate! That’s the point. This scene is sex. It’s about feeling. It’s about giving yourself over to passion. You can’t be analytical and in the throes of ecstasy.”
Can’t I?
Our gazes collide and every molecule in the air slows until it freezes. We both go still, not moving, not stirring, not even breathing.
He’s not fidgeting with his ring, and I’m not chewing the insides of my cheek. We’re not falling back on our old coping mechanisms; we’re fully here. Fully invested.
A spark of intensity, and maybe even trust, crackles between us, swirling around our bodies, entwining us like smoke. It’s dangerous, convoluted, and frail. The smallest misstep could ruin this—whatever this is—and cause it to shatter at our feet.
His steady gaze whispers silent expectations between us. Expectations I have no idea if I can fulfill and my foolish heart hammers against my ribcage.
It takes every ounce of self-preservation I have to fight the overwhelming urge to step forward and angle my lips toward him like an offering.
Light smolders in the green flecks of his eyes. His breath comes out harsh, uneven, as he analyzes me. Searching me for answers to questions he hasn’t bothered asking me yet.
While his eyes skim my face, mine slip to his lips and land there, mesmerized by the memory of his bruising kiss. My lips tingle at the remembrance. Even though it’s been years, I can still feel them on me—soft but firm. Intense and commanding, just like him. I’m powerless against those lips.
Against him.
No. I was powerless. But not anymore.
My eyelids slip down over my eyes, and I break the invisible bond that’s locking us together.
“You don’t believe I can do this,” I state. It’s not a question.
He’s a liar who can’t be trusted. I can’t forget that. I can’t let my guard down around him. Not fully. What’s that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’m a fucking moron.
Yep, something like that.
Holden’s hand falls to my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could do this, Katherine. I wouldn’t be wasting my time.”
My chest hitches at the sound of my full name. I should be used to hearing it from him by now, but each time, it’s jarring. In only a few years, he’s managed to embed himself like shrapnel, so deeply into my soul, that hearing him say a name I’ve heard my whole life, throbs in my brain.
No, not my brain. My heart.
“One more thing,” he says.