Page 27 of Broken Romeo
Dammit. She’s right… and he’s right.
A committed actor immerses themself in a role, reads and learns everything they can to get the part right and do it justice.
That’s what I need to do. I need to be so fucking good at this role that I leave Holden and everyone else dumbfounded, wondering who the hell I am and where I’ve been hiding all these years.
I’ll show them.
I’ll blow them away.
All I need to do is slice open old scars and bleed all over the stage…
Easy, right?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Fun fact: Most actors are introverts.
The world sees actors as loud and attention-seeking, but in truth, most of us retreat inward and energize from being alone.
And yet, we get so much validation from the stage—from an audience and applause. It’s like a drug that allows us introverts to escape from the caverns of our loneliness.
We’re walking contradictions.
And right now, I feel it. Instead of the hard planks of a stage beneath my feet, I can feel the soft grass. It’s not a hot stage light that’s warming the back of my head, but the sun shining down on us as I’m falling in love with Zach.
He lifts his hand to my temple, and I close my eyes, leaning into his silky touch.
The buzz of energy surrounds us, gripping us, drawing us closer and closer together. It’s the sort of intense chemistry that only happens occasionally on stage.
And now that I’ve caught it, I’m not letting go.
Another fun fact: Most actors don’t know what the hell they’re doing.
It’s me. I’m most actors.
Even though I’d spent twelve hours last night memorizing my lines, a single misplaced ‘and’ can screw everything up. Worse still, that one mistake could lose me the best part to ever land in my lap… and prove Holden right.
That I’m not good enough.
“How did I get so lucky?” Nolan Brooks says with a glance at the script in his hands. His gaze is intense as he looks back up into my eyes, the striking emerald piercing into me.
He’s utterly mesmerizing. He’s the sort of actor who could sell out a run of a show simply by being in it—women would pay top dollar for the privilege to stare at his Adonis face for two hours.
He cups my jaw, cradling my face in those strong hands, and before his gaze rakes down my body, he pauses at my mouth. “I get to kiss these lips every day for the rest of our lives.”
I pant. I actually pant, a chest-hitching breath as he recites his lines. With a generous part to his lips, he leans in, bringing his mouth close to mine.
I’m drawn to him—his raw, magnetic energy while he is Zach, not Nolan, is potent and intoxicating. In this moment, I’m also not Kate—I’m Skyler. And I’m so madly in love with this man before me.
My eyes slip open, and even though Nolan is leaning in for the kiss, it isn’t him I see. Over his shoulder, sitting in the front row, Holden scowls. His brown eyes glow a fiery golden shade. I can feel his gaze, practically hear his heartbeat from halfway across the room.
The energy tethering me and Nolan Brooks snaps, shattering.
The room is too small. My lungs, too tight. And Nolan is too close.
I falter, leaning back just a fraction of an inch with a gasp before his lips brush mine, and Holden’s voice rings through the theater. “Stop!”
Nolan and I freeze, our lips a breath away from each other.