Broken Juliet (15 page)

He lets out a short laugh. “Okay. Sure, he does. And I watch porn for the plotlines.”

I know he has a point, but thinking about it makes me tense. Since the breakup, Connor’s become one of my closest friends, and I love him like I love Ruby. But every now and then, he stares at me in a way that reminds me he wants more.

Ethan, on the other hand, stares at me less often these days.

I’m ashamed to say I miss it.

“Okay, stop there.”

Ethan drops his head and steps away from Connor. They’ve been working on this part of the scene for the past forty-five minutes, and it’s not getting any better. Both of them are faking the emotion.

They’re both frustrated, and so is Erika.

“This is a lesson for everyone here,” she says as she stands and walks onto the stage. “There will be times when you have to perform scenes with people who hold no attraction for you, but you still need to find a way to make it work. If you share a natural chemistry, that’s great, but if not, you need to train yourself to manufacture it.”

“Easier said than done,” Holt mutters.

Erika ignores him. “This sort of scene is particularly difficult for men, because there’s a heterosexual indoctrination that implies being gay means you’re not a real man, and let me tell you, that’s absolutely not the case. This story is about homosexual men who put their lives on the line for their country. And it’s written by a man who lived it.”

She turns to Holt and Connor. “So, you two need to get past whatever macho bullshit is holding you back from being intimate with each other, and understand that sometimes, you can’t choose which body your soul mate resides in. Love is love. Passion is passion. And people who are lucky enough to feel it should grab it with both hands.
That’s
what this play is about.”

Holt slumps onto one leg and rubs the back of his neck. He seems completely at a loss as to how to make it work. Connor’s much the same.

Erika calls them over. “Might I suggest you both take a moment to close your eyes and recall a person with whom you’ve shared a strong emotional or sexual connection? Picture that person in your mind. Let the way they made you feel invade your body, stir your emotions, boil your blood.” Both men close their eyes and breathe. Their postures relax a little. “Do you feel that?”

They nod.

“Stay in that moment. Let the sense memory of that connection infuse you.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn to see Jack leaning forward. He whispers, “How weird would it be if they were both thinking about you? Like, seriously?”

He smiles and sits back, and I try to squash the rush of flutters in my stomach.

Yeah, that’d be too weird.

Erika preps the boys for a few more minutes, then gets them to start the scene again.

Ethan closes his eyes and breathes, and when he opens them, his whole demeanor has changed. His expression softens. His voice lowers. As he speaks, he slowly moves closer to Connor.

“You want me, Ty. You can deny it all you like. Doesn’t make it not true.” He’s calm. Self-assured.

Connor counters his calm with barely suppressed panic. “I do deny it.”

“I can see it in your eyes.”

As Ethan closes in, Connor crosses downstage to put distance between them. “We’re not just mindless animals.” “We control our actions. Our actions don’t control us.”

Holt isn’t deterred. He maintains his slow pursuit. “You can tell yourself that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you watch me.”

Even now, Connor watches him. Mesmerized. “I don’t.”

“Everything about me turns you on. It scares the hell out of you, and so you yell, and rage, and push me away, but it doesn’t change anything. You could live a hundred lifetimes and never find what you have with me.”

They’re really inhabiting the scene. Becoming their characters. Ethan has transformed. He’s incandescent. It’s good. So good, a whole mess of emotions I can’t grasp or stop wells up. My heart kicks into overdrive, and there’s a roaring sound in my ears.

“Rage all you want,” Ethan says. “Curse my name. Pretend all of this passion is coming from a place of hate, but I know better. Your passion for me is strangling you. Telling you that you’re someone different than who you thought you were. Urging you to be bigger and braver than the tiny box you’ve shoved yourself into for all these years.”

Then he touches Connor. Lovingly. Reverently. Connor is vibrating with indecision. Terrified by their obvious connection.

The way Ethan is, the words he’s saying … it’s too much. Something primal stirs inside me, low and snarling. It wants what it sees.
That
Ethan. The strong and brave one. The one staring at Connor and speaking words that resonate through all of my layers.

“It’s not working, is it?” he says as he strokes Connor’s face. “You’re miserable. Unfulfilled. Hollow and aching for the one thing that’s going to make all the whispers of longing shut up, once and for all. Me.”

“No—” He touches Connor’s lips, and Connor closes his eyes and sighs.

“Yes. And the sad thing is, you know the more you deny it, the more miserable you’ll become, and still you’re desperate to continue pretending.”

“Mark—”

Then Ethan steps in and cups Connor’s face before he leans down so their lips are almost touching.

I can’t breathe. Jealousy fires in my belly, blasting outward until there’s a firestorm under my skin.

“Ty, what we feel for each other isn’t the enemy. Why do you insist on continuing to fight it?”

“I know how to fight. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

“Isn’t it time you found some peace?”

“I—”

Ethan leans down. “I’m going to kiss you now. If you don’t want me to, say stop.”

“This isn’t who I am.” Connor squeezes his eyes shut.

“No excuses. Just one word.”

“You’re asking too much.”

“You’re expecting too little. Say it.”

“I … can’t.”

“Good.”

They seem to go into slow motion as they move closer while gripping each other. Then Ethan kisses Connor. They both inhale, and I want to look away but can’t. Ethan’s jaw tenses as he kisses Connor again, and my lungs are burning from lack of oxygen.

I clench my hands painfully around the armrests. I can’t see this. I really, really can’t.

I stand and stumble out into the aisle. People berate and shush me as I squeeze past, but I ignore them.

I all but run for the exit, and as I throw open the door, the class bursts into applause. I can still hear the cheering and whistling as I sprint toward the bathroom.

Music thumps straight into my bones as I throw back the shot and then slam the glass onto the table.

“Another!”

Usually at these weekend parties at Jack’s place, I spend the night trying to avoid getting drunk. Tonight, it’s my only mission.

Ruby holds the tequila bottle just out of reach. “Cassie—”

“Shut up, Ruby. You’re forever trying to get me drunk and handsy, and the one night I want it, you tell me to ease up? Just pour me another damn shot.”

She shakes her head but does it. “You’re going to regret this tomorrow, you know that, right?”

I down the shot and breathe through the burn. “Don’t care. Worth it. More.”

She complies. “What happened with you today? Zoe said you stormed out of acting class. Something about Holt kissing a guy?”

She’s taking too long, so I grab the bottle and drink from it. “Don’t wanna talk ’bout it More booze.”

“No.” She snatches the bottle and holds it out of my reach.

“Ruby!”

“I’m cutting you off until you tell me.”

I wave at her. “Whatever. I’m gonna dance.”

I stagger to the dance floor. The music is loud and bass-y, so I close my eyes and sway to the beat. People surround me. I don’t know who they are. Don’t care. Just wanna feel part of it. Of something.

The beat echoes through me. Of course it does. Noise is more reverberant inside big, hollow spaces.

One song merges into another. Arms wrap around me. Someone nuzzles my neck.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I open my eyes. It’s Nick. We’ve been flirty. Gone out a few times. Shared a couple of mediocre kisses and some light groping.

It never goes any further. My choice, not his.

Why does he keep coming back? Doesn’t he get it by now?

Still, he smells good and keeps me upright, so I sway with him.

He kisses my neck. I shiver, but not in a good way. When I turn around, he cups my face and kisses me. I almost gag. Not because of him, but because the room is spinning.

I pull back and close my eyes. Doesn’t really help.

“Cassie?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re going to be sick.”

“M’okay.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“No. You go, have fun. I’mma go t’the bathroom.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nope. M’fine.”

I push through the crowd and head toward the hallway but stop short when I see Ethan there, his expression like thunder.

He’s been coming to more and more parties recently. Of course he’d be here tonight. The one night I really didn’t want to see him.

All of my control systems are confused. Malfunctioning. Having him here isn’t helping.

I push past him and stumble to the bathroom. Inside, I just make it to the toilet before most of the tequila makes its way back up.

Ten minutes later I emerge from the bathroom, still drunk, but more in control. Ethan has disappeared. Despite not really wanting to be alone, I don’t feel good, so I find Ruby and tell her I’m leaving.

“Want me to drive you?”

“Nah. I’m gonna walk.”

“Really? It’s cold out there.”

“I want some fresh air. Clear my head.”

“You sure?” Ruby asks. “It’ll take you nearly an hour.”

“I don’t really have anywhere else to be.” Or anyone to be with.

“Okay, but keep your phone in your hand and call me when you get home.”

“K. See you later?”

“Probably not. See that big guy in the corner? He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to be taking me home tonight.”

“Haven’t you slept with him before?”

“Yep. But he’s definitely worth a repeat performance. Hung like a horse and knows how to ride.”

I laugh and grab my purse. “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Probably.”

I’m nearly at the front door when a hand closes around my wrist.

“Hey, you’re not leaving?” Nick puts his arms around me, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Why is it that you always seem to be running away from me, Cassie Taylor?”

I sigh, too tired to pretend. “Not running. Just going home.”

“Let me drive you. I could … come in. Tuck you into bed.” His tone suggests he has a little more on his mind than just tucking, although it rhymes with it.

“Not tonight, Nick.” Or ever. Despite his physical hotness, I’m completely disinterested. “I’m wiped. Seriously.”

He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “Okay, fine. But at least kiss me good-night.”

“Probably not the best idea. I vomited a little while ago.”

“Your breath smells minty.”

“Well, yeah, I rinsed with mouthwash, but still—”

“Good enough for me.”

He kisses me, and even though I’m not really into it, I try to kiss him back. I don’t really understand why he doesn’t arouse me. He’s nice enough. Handsome. Decent kisser. Good sense of humor. But no matter how hard I try to feel it, there’s just nothing there.

When I’m with Nick, it always feels like there’s a tiny Ethan sitting on my shoulder whispering, “
It doesn’t matter how similar we look. He’s not me. He’ll never compare to me. Give up now and accept that for the rest of your romantic life, no one is even going to come close to making you feel what I could.
” The sad thing is, I know that tiny shoulder-sitting Satan-Holt is right. And it depresses the hell out of me.

I should just tell Nick we’re not going to work out, so he can move on with someone else. He deserves passion. Mine’s currently unavailable.

Before I can say anything, he shoves his tongue in my mouth and presses me back into the wall. I pull back, but he grabs my face and kisses me again.

“Come on, Cassie,” he says as he grinds against my hip. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months. Let me make you feel good.”

“Nick, stop—”

He pushes my hand between us and leans into it. “Just touch me. Please. Dammit, I’ve been hard for you since the first time we met.”

“Nick—”

A hand closes over Nick’s shoulder and pulls him back.

“She said stop, asshole. Are you fucking deaf?”

Ethan’s there, scowling and angry. He steps in front of me and stares down a confused Nick.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Someone who can tell from across the room that she’s not interested. Have some fucking respect.”

“Ethan, I’m fine.”

Nick laughs. “So a guy’s not allowed to kiss his girlfriend around you?”

Ethan and I react in absolute unison. “What?!”

Ethan spins around to face me. “You’re his
girlfriend
?”

“Nick, I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Cassie, come on. We’re dating.”

“Not really,” I say. “I mean, we’ve been out on a few dates, but that’s it.”

“Well, I think our relationship is a bit more meaningful than that.”

Holt glowers. “You’re in a relationship with this tool?”

“No.”

Nick throws up his hands. “Cassie, what the hell is going on here? Who is this guy?”

“He’s … my ex.” The words still feel wrong.

“Really? He’s not acting very
ex
.” Nick squares off with Ethan. They’re about the same height and build. In a fight, you’d expect them to be evenly matched, but to me, there’s absolutely no competition.

And that’s the problem.

Ethan leans in. “Nick, is it?” He makes his name sound like it was something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “You were pawing Cassie like a creeper. Learn to take no for a fucking answer.”

Nick draws up to his full height. “Do you go around stalking all your ex-girlfriends, or just this one?”