Page 63 of Forbidden Romeo
I tugged my arm free from his grasp, shrugging him off.
My gaze lifted to Katherine’s and for the first time all night, her eyes met mine.
The silly smile she sported dissolved faster than a single grain of sugar in a steaming cup of coffee and her cheeks flushed pink.
There she is.
The real Katherine.
The woman I’ve fallen in love with.
Before leaving, I stalked across the bar, pushing people out of my way until I was standing right in front of her.
“Holden,” she gasped. “What… what are you doing?”
My arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, her body leaning into mine as she melted into my embrace. Her eyelashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks as she looked up at me, her lips parted in surprise.
“This.”
I clutched her to me, crashing my lips onto hers in a fierce embrace; a collision of lips and limbs. In that moment, I didn’t care that our entire class was there to witness it. I didn’t care that she came to the bar with Nate.
Right now, for one second more… she was mine.
Her lips tasted like fruit and citrus, a combination of her cherry lip gloss and the margarita clutched in her free hand.
She let out a soft whimper as I deepened the kiss, the sound sending shivers down my spine and heating my blood, drowning out the noise of the bar around us.
Her body was soft and pliant against mine, her lips warm and yielding beneath mine. My fingers dug into her waist, feeling the subtle curve of her body as her hands fell to my chest, gripping my shirt.
The kiss ended, leaving us both panting and aching for more.
“Holden,” she whispered, dizzy with lust.
But without another word, I released her and turned, walking out of the bar.
After tomorrow, she’ll probably never speak to me again.
CHAPTER 25
The bright bulbs lining my dressing room mirror warm my face as I stare at my reflection. “You know I’m going to be wearing a wig for the show, right?”
Jill freezes where she holds the hot barrel of the curling iron. “Does your character have to be a brunette or something?”
I shake my head no. “No. She could have any hair color I think.”
Tilting her head, Jill looks at the clock on the wall. It’s almost seven p.m., but I’ve been here since four with Jill because I’m such a nervous wreck today.
Our show opens in just over an hour.
In about an hour, we’ll either be a smash hit…
Or I’ll be unemployed once again.
“Then why can’t you just use your own hair?”
“Almost no one on Broadway uses their own hair,” I answer with a shrug. “It’s just kind of how it’s always been done.”
“But that’s so stupid.”