SIXTEEN
DENIAL
Six Years Earlier
Westchester, New York
The Grove
“Taylor, just stick it in your mouth.”
“Don’t rush me. I’ve never done this before.”
“Yeah, well, the best way to learn it just to do it.”
“I don’t know what the heck I’m doing!”
“Stop talking yourself out of it. Just wrap your lips around it and suck. It’s not rocket science.”
“Oh, my God, Cassie,” Zoe says as she rolls her eyes. “Either do it or hand it around. Other people want a turn, you know.”
She scowls at me as I regard the glowing joint in my hand. I’m tempted to just hand it over, but I don’t want to seem like the naive girl I actually am, so I put it between my lips and suck hard. I wind up inhaling a scorching lungful of pungent smoke.
Everyone laughs as I launch into a massive coughing fit.
Holt claps me gently on my back.
“Leave your lips parted a bit when you inhale,” he says while trying not to laugh. “That way you’ll take in some air with the smoke, and it’ll burn less.”
“You couldn’t have told me that before I did it?” I wheeze as he hands me his bottle of water.
He shrugs and smiles. “Where’d the fun be in that?”
I slap his arm as I take the water and drink.
“Try again,” Lucas says and waves his hand at me. “Do as Ethan says and take in more air, then hold it inside your lungs for as long as you can. That’s the best way to get a decent buzz.”
I do as he says. The smoke still burns, but I manage to hold it inside for a good ten seconds before exhaling.
“Nice,” Lucas says, and everyone gives me a light round of applause.
Jack takes the joint. “We’ll have you getting high like a pro in no time.”
“Awesome,” I say weakly as I grab Holt’s water again and take a long drink.
“I still can’t believe this is your first time,” Zoe says with disdain. “What self-respecting American teenager gets to the ripe old age of nineteen without getting high at least once?”
I shrug. “The daughter of the World’s Strictest Dad?”
Zoe screws up her face. “Cassie, that’s no excuse. Didn’t you see Footloose? The preacher’s daughter did everything but whore herself out after church. Having an overprotective daddy should have made you more wild, not less. Sheesh.”
For some reason, Jack and Lucas find her statement hilarious and crack up. It makes me smile. Zoe notices, and her face does a really strange dance between being pissed and happy. Happy eventually wins, and she grins at me as Jack passes her the joint.
Wow. Marijuana has a magical way of making mortal enemies like each other? Why isn’t this stuff legal, again?
Holt takes the joint from Zoe and squints as he inhales. His long fingers splay, and he sucks with pursed lips.
Beside me, Zoe moans. “Fuck me, Ethan, you have the best lips.”
He gives her a closed-mouth smile as he holds in the smoke, and I nearly choke trying not to laugh at the expression of lust on her face.
She has it so bad for him.
I know how she feels.
“Jeez, Holt,” Jack whines. “Do you have to hog all the girls? How about leaving some for the rest of us?”
Holt hands him the joint and shrugs. Then he turns and leans in as he grabs my head. At first, I’m shocked because I think he’s going to kiss me, which is weird because for the past few weeks we’ve been extremely careful to not show any affection in front of our classmates. But at the last second, he hovers his mouth over mine and exhales, and I realize he wants me to breathe in the smoke.
I inhale, my whole body tingling as he smiles while grazing his thumb super-slowly across my cheek.
Whoa. Fireworks under my skin. Tingly hot.
I can definitely feel the marijuana affecting me now. Everything seems to slow down and gain sharper focus, and for the longest time, all I can see is Holt’s face in front of me. He blinks slowly, and I can hear his lashes hitting his eyelids. Then he licks his lips, all slow motion and pink tongue. The thudding bass of a Barry White song starts up in my brain.
“Kiss her!” Jack yells before making obnoxious smacking noises.
Holt blinks, but by the time he looks away, my face is blazing hot and other parts of me, farther south, are even hotter.
“So what exactly is the deal with you two, anyway?” Jack asks, his voice tight as he inhales. “Are you actually fucking?”
Holt shoots him a withering glare before snatching the joint and handing it to me.
“You’re so goddamn classless, Avery. No, we’re not fucking.”
“Then what are you doing? Give us the horny details.”
“We’re not doing anything,” Holt says. “Change the damn subject.”
“I’d like to know, too,” Zoe says. “After Romeo and Juliet, we all thought you were screwing, but you hardly ever touch each other now that the show’s over, so we’re not sure. Clear up the rumors. Tell us what’s going on.”
Holt sighs and shakes his head. “There’s nothing going on. Taylor and I are friends. Nothing more.”
Even though I know he’s lying, it still makes me uncomfortable.
“Bullshit, you’re just friends,” Jack says as he takes the joint from me. “I have a vague recollection of you two making out on my bed on opening night. At least, I think it was you.”
Holt laughs before leaning back against a large tree and crossing his arms over his chest. “Avery, you were drunk and stoned out of your mind that night. For about an hour, you spoke to people only in Smurf language. It was smurfing annoying. You were imagining things.”
“You’re full of shit, Holt,” Jack says. “Cassie? Care to confirm or deny that you’re smurfing the hell out of Holt?”
My blush intensifies. “Jack, I can say with the utmost honesty, that I’m definitely not smurfing Holt. Wait, smurfing means having sex, right?”
How the hell do the Smurfs know what they’re talking about most of the time? Is it a noun? Is it a verb? I’m so confused.
“Yes, Taylor, we’re talking about sex.”
“Well, then no. Definitely not doing that.”
Unfortunately. Smurf it all to hell.
I exhale as I glance at Holt. One of his hands is in his pocket while he strokes the bark of the tree with his other. I’m mesmerized by his fingertips grazing over the rough texture. I’ve never been so jealous of a tree in my whole life.
“But you’d like to, right?” Jack asks with a knowing grin. “You’d like to smurf him up real good, huh? Smurf him long and slow? Or maybe fast and hard?”
Holt glares at Jack, who promptly shuts up.
“I know I would,” Zoe mumbles. “I’d smurf him ’til his fucking head exploded.” She looks up, apparently shocked she’d spoken out loud. “Oh, shit. You guys totally heard that, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t,” Holt says, feigning ignorance.
“Oh, well, I said I wanted to fuck you,” Zoe says before covering her face. “Oh, shit. There’s no chance you didn’t hear that, is there?”
Holt smiles and shakes his head. “Afraid not.”
“Zoe, you can ride me,” Jack says and gestures to his lap. “Climb on up. One decent-sized cock, no waiting.”
Zoe raises her eyebrows. “How decent-sized?”
“Seven and a half,” Jack says proudly.
Zoe nods. “Acceptable size. Tell you what, Jack, next time I get blind drunk, come see me. I might be able to cope with fucking you if I can’t remember it the next day.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Jack says. “It’s your loss. I could give you the best two and a half minutes of your life, lady.”
We all crack up.
Our laughter is loud in the quiet woods, and I glance at Holt. He’s smiling but staring at me in a way that makes a flood of heat rush through me. My laughter dies as I jiggle my knees to try and help ease the ache between my legs.
If I’d realized pot would make me even hornier than usual, I’d have passed.
“Man, I’m fucking hungry,” Jack says beside me.
“Me too,” I say to Holt’s crotch.
“If we leave now, we can swing past the cafeteria on the way to class,” Lucas says.
We all stand and head out of the trees on the west side of the school, heading back toward the Hub. The three boys walk in front of me and Zoe. When I notice her checking out Holt’s ass, I’m not even jealous. His ass is incredibly fine. It should be ogled.
“So, you’ve really never fucked him?” she whispers, as she continues to stare at his butt.
“Nope.”
I want to bite his butt. Not hard. Just little nibbles, all over those firm cheeks. Really unsure if this is the pot talking or I just have a weird body-biting fetish. Maybe it’s a little of both.
“I bet he’s amazing in bed,” Zoe whispers. “Just imagine it, all that intensity and passion he has in his acting finally letting loose. He’d be like a sexual stallion.”
Jebus, Zoe, would you shut up? As if I’m not having enough trouble not humping him. Stop making me want him more.
I drag my eyes away from his butt and watch my feet instead.
Whoa. Look at the grass. So many blades. So pretty. So green. I wonder what green would taste like.
“So,” Zoe says and nudges me with her elbow, “who’s the best lay you’ve ever had?”
Well, so far? Holt’s thigh. And fingers. “Um…”
“Was there someone back in Washington?”
Not unless you count my old bicycle, which used to rub against me in strange and not-entirely-unpleasant ways. “Well…”
“’Cause I’ve heard some of those small-town boys can be total perverts.”
A boy from my high school videotaped himself having sex with a watermelon. And a cucumber. Simultaneously. “Well, yeah…”
“So who was it?”
I look back at Holt’s ass as I try to figure out what to say, because I’m betting that if I stare at it hard enough, the secrets of the universe will be revealed to me.
Do I tell her and risk ridicule? I mean, she’s being nice to me now, but what happens when the high wears off?
“Come on, Cassie,” she says, urging me on. “If you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”
“Well, uh…” No, no one must know. Just make up a name. Any name. “His name was…”
Bob, Sam, Cletus, Zach, Jake, Joanne! Any name will do! Wait, no … not Joanne. Or Cletus.
Zoe grabs my arm and stops short. “Oh my God…”
“Zoe—”
“Don’t tell me you’re a—”
“No, don’t say it…”
She leans in and whispers, “You’ve never had sex, have you?” She says it with the same amount of hushed sympathy as if she’d just discovered I was dying of cancer.
I blush and pull my arm away from her, so I can keep walking.
“Aw, Cassie, don’t be mad,” she calls after me. “I’m not going to tell anyone you’re a virgin!”
The boys in front of me stop and turn, and Jack and Lucas look at me in disbelief. Holt glances at me nervously before shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at the ground.
“Crap,” Zoe mumbles behind me. “Sorry. My bad.”
“Taylor,” Jack says, a broad smile spreading over his face, “tell me it isn’t so. No one has planted their flag in your virgin territory yet? That’s just wrong.”
Lucas looks at me in genuine shock. “That’s impossible. How did this happen? Have you been dating blind men?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Would you stop treating me like I have a rare and incurable disease? I’m not a leper, for God’s sake.”
“No, of course not,” Jack says sympathetically as he walks over to rub my shoulders. “But, Taylor, really … what the hell are you waiting for? Are you one of those chicks who’s saving it for marriage? Because let me tell you, my mom did that and it was a bad move. Apparently, my dad is a lousy lay. That’s why I’m an only child. I’m pretty sure they’ve only ever done it that one time.”
I blush. “I’m not saving it, okay?”
“Then why are you still a virgin?” Zoe asks.
“Because…” I don’t want to look at Holt, but I can’t stop myself. “I just haven’t found a guy yet who wants to sleep with me, I guess.”
At that statement, he loses all interest in his shoes and looks straight at me, frowning and intense.
“Okay, now I’m going to have to call bullshit,” Jack says with a laugh. “Because I know for a fact that there are at least half a dozen guys at The Grove who would give their right ball to bang you, me included.”
Lightning fast, Holt punches him in the arm.
“Ow, dude!” Jack rubs his arm and scowls at Holt. “What the fuck was that for?”
“Just have some fucking respect, would you?”
“Settle the fuck down. I have respect. It was a compliment. Plus, I want her to know she has options.”
Holt looks like his head’s about to explode. “Banging you is not an option, you fucking Neanderthal. It’d be cruel and unusual punishment.”
Jack throws up his hands. “Why the hell does everyone keep dissing my sexual prowess? I happen to be a very sensitive and thorough lover.” He looks back at me and whispers, “Am I selling this at all? ’Cause if you wanted to ditch media class this afternoon so I could relieve you of your virginal burden, I’d be more than willing. I’m just saying…”
Everyone laughs except Holt, who hisses something under his breath and looks like he’s going to punch Jack again.
I subtly move between him and Jack. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
Jack shrugs. “Well, okay then, but I’m always here if you need me. Twenty-four hour deflowering services available on request. Condoms provided free of charge.”
I sneak a glance at Holt, and judging by the look on his face, he’s imagining all the ways he could murder Jack and hide the evidence.
“Actually,” I say. “I’m kind of seeing someone, and I’m hoping he might be the one to do it.”
Whoa. Didn’t really mean to say that.
Or did I?
Okay, what I’m doing here will either be completely brilliant or unfathomably stupid. Please, God, let it be brilliant.
Holt’s watching me with a wary expression.
“Wait, what?” Zoe says. “You’re seeing someone? Who? For how long? What’s he look like? Holt, did you know about this?”
Holt’s eyes fill with panic for a second before they set into a steely glare. “Yeah, she may have mentioned something about a guy. He sounds like a dick to me, but apparently she likes him. I’m surprised she’s telling you all about him, though. I thought she was going to keep him a secret.”
“Well,” I say, “I don’t really see why I shouldn’t talk about him. I mean, I like him. And I don’t think he’s a dick. He’s just … complicated.”
Holt blinks several times, and his expression softens. “I guess he’s lucky you see it like that.”
“Well, come on then,” Lucas says. “Tell us, who’s the lucky guy?”
Zoe takes a step forward, her eyes bright and glassy. “Yeah, do we know him?”
Okay, brain, I know you’re high, but help me out here. Come up with something plausible.
“I met him while we were doing Romeo and Juliet.”
Okay, good. Not exactly a lie but vague enough to throw them off. Good job, stoned brain.
Everyone exchanges a look, and Zoe says, “Ah, a fan, huh? He saw you onstage and just had to have you?”
I nod. “Uh … yeah … something like that.”
“So, tell us more,” Holt says, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You told me the other day that you think he’s hot. How hot? Be specific.”
A fierce blush lights up my face, because he knows exactly how hot I think he is.
“Jeez, Taylor, check out your face!” Jack laughs. “This mystery guy must know how to press all of your buttons. You’re as red as a baboon’s ass. And yet, he won’t have sex with you?”
I take a breath and shake my head.
Jack scoffs. “What a fucking idiot.”
“Maybe he has his reasons,” Holt says quietly.
“Are you kidding me?” Jack says in disbelief. “You’ve kissed Taylor, dude. You know how hot she is. What sort of moron turns that down?” He turns to me and whispers, “Oh, wait. Is he … you know … challenged? Or one of those creepy religious guys? Ooh, or does he have erectile dysfunction issues? Can’t get it up?”
“He doesn’t have any fucking erection issues,” Holt says emphatically. “And he isn’t challenged, for God’s sake.”
Everyone looks at him.
He shrugs. “I’m guessing that Taylor wouldn’t go out with someone who was defective, right?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I say. “There’s must be something wrong with him. Like Jack said, what sort of moron turns this down?”
I shimmy and do my sexy face, and everyone laughs except Holt. He just stares at me, unblinking, and I can’t figure out whether he’s angry or aroused.
It’s kind of disturbing how similar those expressions are on him.
“I once went out with a guy who wouldn’t fuck me,” Zoe says as we start walking again. “He said he didn’t want me to think that sex was all he wanted from me, and that he thought I was special. That we really could have something.”
I smile at her. “He sounds sweet. What happened?”
She shrugs. “I dumped his ass. I mean, I have needs, right? If he’s not going to give it to me, then I’m going to get it somewhere else.”
Holt makes a derogatory noise but doesn’t say anything.
“The weird thing is,” Zoe says, as we head into the cafeteria, “he’s probably the only guy I’ve ever dated who gave a shit about me, but I didn’t realize that until he was long gone. Maybe he was one of those rare guys who didn’t want sex without love.”
My stomach squirms.
Is that Holt’s problem? That he doesn’t love me, so he won’t sleep with me? It makes sense. Maybe he has no feelings for me beyond pure animal lust.
The thought slithers through my brain, curling and coiling, making my face hot with embarrassment and anger.
“I’ve given up trying to figure out men,” Zoe says as she surveys the stand of candy bars. “They’re weird.”
Amen, sister.
She picks up three chocolate bars and heads to the cashier. Lucas and Jack both have armfuls of chips and chocolate, and I opt for a soft-serve ice cream to help cool my flushed face.
I head outside and sit at a table with the others, and when Holt sits down, I avoid looking at him. Concentrating on my ice cream, I run my tongue around the edge of the cone, catching the drips before they can run too far. I close my eyes as I swallow, and I can almost see the cold as it slides down my throat as spider-veins of sparkling blue tingle in my stomach and out through my skin.
I feel a light brush against my foot and look up to see Holt staring at me, watching my mouth as I eat. He looks into my eyes, and the glittering blue in my body is immediately replaced by sparking orange heat, smoldering and blazing in all the places I want him to touch me. But as I squirm and become uncomfortably warm, it occurs to me that maybe this is all we have—sexual napalm that has no need for friendship or intimacy.
He brushes my foot again, the toe of his shoe grazing up against my ankle and calf, and it’s ridiculous that I can feel that touch in every cell of my body.
Oh, I’m going to burn all right. He’s going to incinerate me from the inside out.
“I have to go,” I mutter as I stand and throw the rest of my ice cream in the trash. “I’ll see you guys in class.”
“Taylor?”
I sling my bag over my shoulder and don’t look back as I cross the quad to the drama block.
Ten minutes later, when I exit the first floor bathroom, Holt’s there leaning against the wall and frowning.
“Hey.” He looks around before stepping forward and touching my face. “Are you okay? Sometimes if it’s your first time smoking, it can make you want to hurl.”
He looks concerned as he pushes my hair back over my shoulders, but as soon as he hears someone coming down the stairs, he steps back and slumps onto one leg, the perfect image of indifference.
I look at him as he shifts uncomfortably, waiting for the student to pass, and I wonder if I imagined the look of concern. Maybe this whole non-relationship of ours has just been me pushing him into something he really doesn’t want. Or rather, something he wants but not enough.
“Taylor?” He steps forward again. “You didn’t answer me. Are you okay?”
I blink and shake my head. “I’m fine.”
We walk toward the lecture hall where our media class is held. There’s tension between us, but I resist defusing it. I’ve always been that girl—the one who sees things that are wrong and tries to fix them.
I don’t think I can fix this.
“Jack is having some people over for pizza tonight,” Holt says as we climb the stairs. “Want to go?”
So I can pretend all night that you’re just my friend? “No, thanks.”
God forbid you’d ask me out on a real date, to a place where people could see us touching each other.
Holt exhales in frustration and grabs my arm. “Okay, that’s it. You’re being too quiet and way too non-opinionated. What’s up?”
I shrug. “I guess I have nothing to say.”
“That’s impossible.”
“We have class.”
“So, you’re telling me you’re okay?”
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?”
He frowns as we start walking again, and I know I’m being passive-aggressive, but he’s had nearly a month to show me that he wants me in his life as more than just a sexual distraction, yet he’s still as emotionally distant as ever. I’m over it.
As we take our seats, I slump down and close my eyes. There’s a sharp, hollow ache inside of me, and although I haven’t noticed it before, I’m guessing it’s been there for a while. It’s the part of me that wants someone special, someone who’s wants me enough to be brave. Someone who wants to wrap himself around me until it’s no longer obvious where he ends and I begin.
Someone who I thought might be Holt, but now I’m not so sure.
The rest of the lecture passes in a blur, and even though I sense Holt looking at me every now and then, I ignore him.
I don’t know why the realization that I’m no longer content with having only part of him hit me today. Maybe the marijuana helped clear my mind of the lust that has clouded it since I started having feelings for him. He told me this was how it was going to be, and that I’d want more than he was willing to give, but for some reason I stupidly thought I could change him.
Obviously not.
When the lecture finishes, I mutter that I’ll see him tomorrow and head out toward the quad, wanting nothing more than to have a hot bath. The clear weather that we’d had at lunchtime has given way to heavy rain, and I stick to the cover of the buildings for as long as possible before stepping out into the downpour.
“Hey, Taylor, wait up!”
In a few strides, he’s beside me, holding his backpack over his head as the rain gets heavier.
“You don’t want to hang out tonight?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t. Is it a crime to want to have some time alone?”
A flicker of hurt crosses his face. “No, not a crime, it’s just that … well, we usually spend time together on Wednesday nights, and judging from the way you were looking at me today, I thought…”
“You thought what?”
“Well, it seemed like you wanted to throw me down and mount my face. I figured you’d probably want to fool around or something.”
That’s the problem, Ethan. You think we’re just fooling around.
“Nope, I’ll pass. Thanks for the offer, though.”
I walk faster as my shoes fill up with water. The unpleasant squelching sensation puts me even more on edge.
He keeps pace with me and slings his backpack over his shoulder, giving up avoiding the storm.
“Cassie, what’s going on? Are you pissed with me about something?”
I exhale in frustration. “No. I’m pissed with myself. Don’t worry about it. Go get out of the rain.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me to face him. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
I don’t want to have this conversation now, and I especially don’t want to be having it in the bitterly cold rain, but he’s not giving me a choice.
“Ethan, I’m just tired of this dance we’re doing. It’s always one step forward, two steps back with us, and even though you told me it would be this way, for some reason, I chose not to believe you. I’m just sick of pushing you to do things you don’t want to do. So … yeah … that’s what’s going on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I turn and walk away, trying to outrun the rain, which is pointless, and trying to outpace him, which is impossible.
“Wait! Cassie, talk to me.”
He pulls me to face him again, and his hair is plastered to his head as the water drips off his nose.
“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re you, and I’m me, and you were right when you said we shouldn’t start something. We want totally different things, and I guess I’m finally realizing I’m not okay with that.”
“What the hell? Is this because of what Zoe and Jack said?”
I grunt in exasperation and resist the urge to shove him in his clueless chest. “No, this isn’t about Jack or Zoe, or anyone else! It’s about us! It’s about me expecting things from you that I shouldn’t. It’s about me wanting romance, and dates, and intimacy that stems from more than humping and orgasms, and me wanting to tell our friends that the mystery guy I’m seeing who can turn me on with a single look or touch is you. And most of all, it’s about being angry with myself for falling for a man who told me very plainly not to fall for him! That’s what it’s about! And now it’s too late, and I feel like the stupidest person on the planet, because you’re never going to give me what I need, and I should have known better than to expect you to.”
He stares at me for a second, blinking as the water streams over his lashes. “I thought you wanted me to try with us. That’s what I’m doing. What else do you want?”
I swipe the water off my face, hating the feeling of it running down my cheeks. “God, you’re such a clueless idiot sometimes! I want more. Anything. Everything. Something, for God’s sake! That’s what I want from you. Can you give me that?”
He stares at me, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. He doesn’t answer.
“That’s what I figured.”
I try to walk away, but he holds my arm. His face turns as stormy as the sky. “So, what? That’s it then? It’s all or nothing with you? If I don’t hand you my balls in a velvet-lined box we can’t be together? Where the fuck is all of this coming from? I thought you enjoyed our time together. That you were happy with the way things were.”
“Well, I’m not! I hate slinking around like a criminal, acting like what we’re doing is wrong. I’m not ashamed of liking you, Ethan, but it seems like you can’t say the same. The only reason I’ve gone along with keeping us a secret is because I thought you just needed time to realize you wanted more, but it looks like I was wrong. You give me as little of yourself as possible, all the while driving me insane with how much I want you.”
“You think I don’t want you in the same way? Christ, Taylor, are you fucking kidding me with this?”
“I think you want me, but not enough to actually admit it to anyone!”
“Why the fuck does anyone else matter? You know I want you! It’s not like I can actually hide what you do to me.”
“I’m not talking about wanting me sexually, Ethan! I’m talking about you wanting to be with me. I have no idea where I stand with you. I don’t know if you have actual feelings for me, or if I’m just a willing body. Convenient but not necessary.”
“You think you’re convenient?!” He stares at me for long seconds, so angry he can’t form words. “You’re not fucking convenient! Convenient would have been me not meeting a girl who drives me out of my fucking mind! Convenient would be me being able to concentrate on the course it’s taken me three fucking years to get into without being constantly distracted by how much I want you! Whatever you are, Taylor, the one thing you’re definitely not is convenient!”
“Then what am I, huh? You tell me! Just open your damn mouth and say something that makes me understand how you feel! I think I’ve been pretty honest about what I want, but all I get in return is what you don’t want.”
“You want to know what I want?” he says as he throws his bag to the ground. “Fine. I want this.”
He grabs my face and pulls it forward. It takes me by surprise as he wraps his arms around me and kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m oxygen. There’s nothing cautious about this kiss, nothing remotely vague or dishonest. It’s passionate and staggering, and his desperation is blazing hot, making me burn despite the cold and the rain. For long minutes he kisses me so hard that the world tilts on its axis, and when it realigns, everything is back to revolving around him.
He kisses down my neck, his voice rough and intense. “This is what I want, Cassie. I can’t make it any clearer. Don’t even try to deny you don’t want it, too. Why are you so intent on complicating things?”
He kisses me again, and everything becomes a blur of hands, and tongues, and lips. It’s not fair that this is his explanation, because I can’t argue or reason with it. It’s too big to describe and too hard to deny, and although it doesn’t make things right, it makes me want to forget all the things that are wrong.
But that’s what I’ve been doing all this time. Overlooking and compromising. Being blinded by my want and ignoring my need. I can’t continue doing that.
He groans as I pull away, and from the look in his eyes, he knows that what he’s offering isn’t enough.
I step back, and we stare at each other, both of us breathless and drenched.
“I can’t pretend that this is enough for me anymore,” I say quietly. “I’m not fooling anyone. Not you, not our friends, and especially not myself. If and when you’re ready to be real, let me know.”
“Cassie—”
“See you in class, Ethan.”
I walk away, every footfall heavy as lead as bile churns in my stomach. As I turn down the path toward my building, I glance back.
He’s still standing where I left him, his hands clasped behind his neck and his head bowed. I have the sick urge to run back and tell him to ignore everything I just said. That I’ll take whatever part of him he wants to give.
But I can’t do that. It would just be another lie.
Instead I shiver as I walk to my apartment and unlock the door with shaky hands. Once inside, I strip naked and head to the bathroom, determined to stand under a hot shower until the compulsion to go back to him goes away.
Sadly, when the hot water runs cold an eternity later, I’m still waiting.
Present Day
New York City
I’m standing at the counter of the coffee shop across the road from the theater when I feel a warm hand on my hip. I turn, expecting to see Holt there, but instead it’s Marco, smiling at me with a knowing look.
“Miss Taylor.”
“Mr. Fiori.”
“Have a good time at the benefit last night?”
His tone and raised eyebrow imply he saw Holt and me kissing.
Dammit.
“It was fine.”
“I’m sure.”
“Please don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“What? My two leads making out in the corner like a couple of teenagers? Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“It was nothing.”
“My dear, I’ve seen nothing, and let me assure you that what you and Mr. Holt were doing last night was most definitely not it. I thought the way you kissed each other in rehearsals was scorching. Apparently it pales in comparison to the real thing.”
“Marco…”
“It’s all right. I’m not upset. If anything, I’m thrilled. Can you imagine the press we’ll get out of this?”
I groan as the barista hands me my coffee. “Really? Do you think they saw?”
“I’m certain of it. Our publicist wants to see us prior to rehearsal. I believe every Broadway website and gossip rag has picked up on it. You two are the talk of the town.”
“Oh, God.”
He laughs and pats my shoulder reassuringly as he guides me out of the cafe and across the street. When we get into the rehearsal studio, I dump my gear and head to the ladies’ room, trying to push down a wave of nausea.
After Holt and I left the benefit, he’d escorted me home.
When we reached my apartment, he’d given me a good-night kiss.
Well, to be honest, it was a little more than a kiss. It was more like a full-body vertical dry-hump against my apartment door. In fact, if Mr. Lipman who lives across the hall hadn’t sneezed while he was perving on us through his peephole, we probably would have graduated to an act that’s entirely illegal in a public hallway.
When I’d finally peeled myself away, I was more confused than a straight guy at a transgender beauty pageant. I’d promised myself I was going to take it slow with Ethan. I’d meant to take it slow, yet in one night, I’d somehow managed to kiss him twice, reach a heavily loaded second base, and get an enthusiastic grip on his baseball bat through the front of his pants.
In anyone’s playbook, that’s not even in the same universe as slow.
When I walk back into the rehearsal room, Holt’s there. His face lights up when he sees me.
As I stop in front of him, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. He doesn’t intend it to be intimate, but it is.
His breath is warm on my ear as he whispers, “Good morning. I’ve missed you.” His voice is full of our time together last night—all lusty and a little bit smug.
“Hey.” Mine is purposefully flat. Not encouraging.
He pulls back. His smile drops, and the light goes out of his eyes. “Cassie?”
The room is filling up with people. Our publicist, Mary, enters the room like a tiny big-haired tornado, her arms full of papers and iPads.
“Well, you two had an interesting night. I had a whole marketing campaign organized to get the town buzzing about this show, but you managed to take us viral with one well-publicized make-out session. Well done.”
She lays all of her materials out on the table. There are several pictures of Ethan and me well and truly lip-locked. Each iPad is cued up with a different film clip of the kiss.
Goddammit, how many people were filming us?
“Wait for it,” Mary says as she taps a lacquered nail against one of the screens. “This one has a very artistic zoom that allows us to see actual glimpses of tongue. There!”
Everyone laughs. I want to throw up.
“So,” Mary says, “I’ve already had a dozen requests for interviews this morning, so we need to come up with a strategy. Obviously, I’m all for pushing the whole ‘ex-lovers reunited in hot new play’ angle, because it will sell tickets. People love it when onstage passion is the real deal. If we’re all in agreement, I’ll get some draft press releases drawn up and get them out by this afternoon.”
She looks between Marco, Ethan, and me.
Predictably, Marco and Ethan are waiting for my reaction.
Just as predictably, my answer is, “No freaking way.”
Mary begins to bluster. I don’t hang around for it.
“I need to smoke. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I grab my cigarettes and lighter. When Ethan brushes his fingers over my arm as I pass, I keep going.
Once I’m in the alley, I attempt to light my cigarette, but my trusty Zippo picks that moment to stop being trusty. I flick the roller again and again, but the flint refuses to fire.
“Fuck it!”
I slump back against the wall and close my eyes. When I hear the door open, I know it’s him without having to look.
“Cassie?”
I keep my eyes closed. Not seeing him is easier.
“Please look at me.”
I can’t. I want to be strong, and looking at him makes me the weakest woman on the planet.
“Look at me, or I’m going to kiss you.”
That works.
I open my eyes to see him frowning, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?”
I throw up my hands. “It’s everywhere. Pictures. Videos. Blog posts.”
He stares at me, confused. “And?”
“And … people are gossiping about us being together.”
“Good. As Mary said, it’s great publicity.” His calm is annoying.
I tense and try to move away, but he grabs my shoulders and holds me still. “Cassie, stop. Why is this freaking you out? No offense, but you didn’t seem too concerned last night when we nearly defiled your hallway.”
“For a start, what we did in my hallway was between you and me…”
“And Mr. Lipman.”
“… not splashed all over every tabloid in the city!”
I push on his chest, and he steps back to give me the space I need to breathe. His face is still aggravatingly serene, and I hate that he’s not joining me in my outrage.
“Since when do you care what people think?” he says. “There’s no hiding our onstage chemistry. Who gives a shit if they think we’re doing it offstage, too? For all they know, I’m actually fucking you during the sex scene.”
He doesn’t get it, and it’s because I’m not explaining myself clearly. Explaining it will hurt him. And yet part of me is totally okay with that.
“Ethan, for everyone who knows us … who knows our history … I’m going to seem like the biggest idiot in the world for letting you in again, and the kicker is, they’re probably right. They know how devastated I was when you left, and now I’m making out with you like nothing happened? How stupid must I be?”
That stops him short. The muscles in his jaw work overtime. “Cassie, I’ve worked really hard to be in a position to even think about trying to fix things with you. If I thought, even for a second, that I could possibly hurt you again, I wouldn’t be here. Can’t you just trust me on that?”
I shake my head. “No. And that’s the problem here. I don’t trust you, and I don’t know that I ever will again. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m always going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to get that dead, faraway look in your eyes and run. How can we possibly get back together knowing that?”
His gaze turns steely. “Knowing how we feel about each other … how we’ve always felt about each other … how can we not? Don’t even try to tell me you’ll ever love someone as much as you love me, because as arrogant as it is to say, that’s bullshit. And I feel the same way about you. Everyone else is just going to be second best for us. Don’t you get that?”
I take a deep breath, heart hammering.
We’re charging ahead in a rocket car, and I have no idea if we’ll end up in paradise or smashed into a tree.
History would suggest the tree.
“Maybe we should just … step back,” I say. “Get through opening night, then … I don’t know. Reassess.”
He laughs, short and scoffing. “Reassess. Right.” He runs his hand through his hair.
“Ethan, reporters can insinuate whatever the hell they like, but when they ask if we’re a couple, I’m going to tell them no, and it’s going to be the truth.”
I see a flicker of pain in his eyes, but he’s still not angry. I want to scream in frustration, because that statement should have sent him storming away in a fit of rage. Instead, he’s staring at me with an intensity that curls my toes. He moves toward me and puts his hand on the wall next to my head before leaning down until our noses are almost touching.
“Cassie, us agreeing to take a step back is totally different than you pushing me away, which is what’s going on here. Let me save you a lot of effort by telling you that you can’t get rid of me that easily. I can’t live without you, and more importantly, I don’t want to. So you go ahead and freak out all you want. I’ll still be here when you’re done. Understand?”
He stares at me until I nod to acknowledge what he’s said. Then he looks at me for another few knee-buckling seconds before saying, “Good.”
With that, he walks away and disappears back inside the theater.
Later that day, we do a series of press interviews in which we both deny being romantically involved. Based on the reactions of the interviewers, it’s clear no one believes us.