Bad Romeo: Starcrossed 1

by Leisa Rayven

  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?”

  S
o 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 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