Page 12 of Broken Juliet


  “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?” 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.”

  I see them in slow motion as they move closer and grip 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 burn from lack of oxygen.

  My face is blazing and my hands painfully grip 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. “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 bassy, 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 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.

  I push past him and stumble to the bathroom. Inside, I just make it to the toilet before most of the tequila comes 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 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.”

  “Kay. 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 tuck you into bed.” His tone suggests he has a little more than tucking on his mind.

  “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 goodnight.”

  “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. 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. Give up now and accept that for the rest of your romantic life, no one is going to come close to making you feel what I could.”

  The sad thing is, 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 m
e 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 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 like an 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?”

  “I’m not stalking. You were groping her in the goddamn open. What the hell is your problem, man?”

  “What’s your problem? Can’t handle that she’s moved on with someone else?”

  I’ve had enough. All I wanted to do tonight was get drunk and forget about my stupid emotions. Now I’m stuck in the middle of some sort of macho pissing match.

  I push between the two men still glaring at each other. “I’m leaving, but by all means you guys keep arguing. It looks like you’re enjoying yourselves.”

  Nick grabs my hand. “Wait, Cassie. I’ll drive you home.”

  Ethan bristles. “The hell you will.”

  “No, Nick,” I say, and turn to face him. “You’re drunk, and I’m walking. Also, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. You did paw me like a creeper, and I’m not cool with that.”

  Nick frowns but doesn’t let go of my hand. “Can’t we go somewhere to talk about this?”

  “No. Now let me go or I’ll let Ethan hurt you, and you really don’t want that. He’s good at inflicting pain.”

  I don’t miss the expression that passes over Ethan’s face.

  When Nick drops my hand, I walk to a pile of coats near the front door and dig until I find mine. Then I pull it on and walk out.

  As I close the door behind me, the chill hits my cheeks. When I exhale, a cloud of steam pours from my mouth. I really just want to go to bed and forget about today.

  I’ve barely gotten to the sidewalk before I hear footsteps behind me.

  “Cassie, wait.”

  I keep walking. After all this time, why does Ethan choose tonight to break our unspoken rule to stay away from each other?

  “Hey. Stop.”

  He grabs my arm, and I shove my hands in my pockets as he walks around and stands in front of me.

  “It’s fucking freezing out here,” he says. “Let me drive you home.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re shivering.”

  “So are you.”

  “Yeah, but I’m about to get into my nice, warm car, and you’re about to freeze your ass off. Come on, I can have you home in twenty minutes. Don’t be stubborn.”

  “Hah! You’re calling me stubborn?”

  “Well, I would have said ‘fucking stubborn,’ but I’m trying to cut down on fucking cursing.”

  “Funny. Why did you swoop in to save me tonight? I don’t need you.”

  His mouth twitches. “Oh, I realize that. Over the past year, you’ve made it abundantly clear.”

  “Then why are you even bothering?”

  He pulls his jacket around himself and looks at the ground. “I don’t know. I just figure it’s about time we start being civil to each other. You looked upset tonight, and more than a little drunk. If you stay out here, you could freeze to death. Or worse, run into a drunk asshole like date-rape Nick. I’m leaving anyway. Why not let me drive you home?”

  I can think of about a thousand reasons, but he’s right. I am freezing my ass off. Still, the thought of spending time with Ethan sends an unwanted thrill of anticipation through me. I inhale the chilly air to dampen the fire.

  “Whatever. Take me home.”

  He breaks into the most genuine smile I’ve seen on him in a long time.

  The fire inside me grows.

  *

  Bad idea. Such a bad idea.

  His car is like an airtight chamber of Ethan-essence. I’m sober enough to know how much it’s affecting me and drunk enough to not really care. I lean my head back and just breathe.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Fine.”

  He grips the steering wheel harder. I close my eyes so I can avoid staring at his hands. Or thighs. Or lips.

  Dumb tequila. Lowering my defences.

  We drive in silence. It’s uncomfortable. And arousing. We haven’t been this close to each other in ages. In a strangely masochistic way, it satisfies something in me that’s been severely lacking.

  When we pull up in front of my apartment building, I almost don’t want to leave. There’s an energy firing between us. One which we’ve both suppressed for a long time. I’ve spent so much time training myself to be numb, I was getting worried that was all I’d ever be. It’s a relief to finally feel this lusty simmer, like someone who fears they’ll never walk again getting an unexpected tingling in their toes.

  I’m about to reluctantly get out of the car when Ethan turns off the engine.

  I glance over at him. He’s still gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead. Tense always did look sexy on him.

  He looks in my direction without actually seeing me. “So, you’ve been dating that Nick guy?”

  “Sort of.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Why would you? We don’t talk.”

  He leans back in his seat, and stares at the clock on the dash. “Did you sleep with him?”

  It takes a moment for me to register what he just asked, but when I do, my hands curl into fists. “Who I’m sleeping with is none of your business.”

  “I know that, but—”

  “Is that what was happening tonight? Cockblocking him?”

  He turns to me. “I was trying to protect you, or were you okay with him shoving your hand down his pants and ignoring your pleas to stop?”

  I fiddle with the button on my coat, knowing very well he was looking out for me. I just prefer to make him the bad guy. It means whatever is currently happening between us is easier to ignore.

  He sighs and cracks his knuckles. “Forget it. You don’t have to tell me anything. It was stupid of me to ask.”

  He doesn’t say “sorry” but his tone is apologetic enough to persuade me to tell the truth.

  “I didn’t sleep with him.”

  He loosens u
p just a bit, and the look of relief on his face is nearly laughable. “Good. He seemed like a prick. Better to be celibate than sleep with someone not worthy.”

  “You asked if I was sleeping with him. I’m not. But I’m not celibate.”

  His brows furrow. “So, what? You’re sleeping with someone else?”

  “Well, you could hardly call what we do sleeping.” I shouldn’t torture him, but I really want to.

  Silence hangs in the air between us for a few seconds.

  “Who?”

  “His name’s Buzz. He screws my brains out several times a week. Sometimes, multiple times a day.”

  Even in the dim glow of the streetlight, I see him go pale. He grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “Is he a student?”

  “No.”

  “How long have you been . . . seeing him?”

  “About eight months.”

  The muscles in his jaw go crazy. “What the hell, Cassie? You were fucking this Buzz asshole while you were going out with Nick?”

  “Well, sure. Nick was okay, but Buzz and I are just about the sex.” I try not to laugh.

  He leans his head against the steering wheel. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Don’t you want to know how we met?”

  “No.”

  “Ruby introduced us. At a sex shop.”

  “Please stop talking.”

  “She knew just by looking at him that he’d be able to make me come.”

  He groans. “Fuck . . . Cassie. Please . . .”

  “For a while I thought you were the only one who could get me off.”

  “Stop . . .”

  “But once I figured out he had multiple speed settings, I’ve been devoted to him ever since.”

  “Too much fucking information.” Then he stops and turns to me. “Wait . . . multiple speed settings?”

  I have to smile. “Yep.”

  He stares. “So Buzz is your . . . uh . . .”

  “Vibrator. His full name is Sir Buzzalot. Best orgasms money can buy.”

  He closes his eyes again. “Yeah, you’d think that would make it better than fucking another guy, but it really doesn’t. You’ve been making yourself come . . . with a vibrator. I can’t even . . .” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying his discomfort. “Since we’re being all chatty and whatnot . . . what about you?”

  He rubs his eyes. “I don’t own a vibrator.”