Bad Romeo Read Online Free Page B

cracks me up. You know it’s a porn term, right?”
    No, I didn’t know it was a fluffing porn term. Do I look like a porn-watching pervert?
    I exhale and try to focus. My thoughts are chaotic. I need to be calm.
    “Hey,” he says as he touches my arm. It doesn’t help my concentration at all. “We can do this. Look at me.”
    I look up into his eyes. His lashes are ridiculous.
    As he gazes at me, something jolts straight into the pit of my stomach.
    He must feel it, too, because his mouth drops open, and he inhales sharply. “Holy shit.” He blinks but doesn’t look away.
    The energy crackling between us is too intense. I close my eyes and exhale.
    “Taylor?”
    “Cassie.”
    “Cassie,” he whispers, his voice soft and so very desperate. “Stay with me. Please. I can’t do this without you.”
    I swallow and nod. Then Erika yells at us, and we walk to the center of the room.
    We turn to face each other, only a foot apart.
    He’s much taller than I am, so I stare at his chest, watching it rise and fall as he tries to calm himself.
    “Ready?” he whispers.
    I want to yell, “No, God, please, I’m not fluffing ready!” but instead I say, “Yeah. Sure,” like this wasn’t life or death, or at the very least, really important.
    I take a deep breath before looking up. His expression is less desperate now, and it feels like I’m seeing him—really seeing him—for the first time. I feel his energy. It’s like a wave of heat all around him. We stand there for a few seconds, just breathing, and as we gaze into each other’s eyes, the air between us solidifies, connecting us like two parts of the same person.
    He raises his hand, and I follow, as if we have thousands of tiny strings between our arms, tugging them into alignment. I match his speed exactly, moving when he moves, breathing when he breathes.
    We move again, and our bodies are perfectly aligned. It feels so natural. More natural than I’ve felt in a long time. Maybe ever.
    We step closer. He leans forward, and I lean back. I tilt sideways, and he follows. The invisible strings tighten between us. Our movements become faster, but every one is perfect and precise. Intricate choreography that we’ve never learned, but our muscles somehow remember.
    It’s thrilling.
    We’re in the zone. That magical state performers sometimes achieve when everything is flowing and open. Heart, mind, body. I’ve felt it before, but never with another person.
    It’s amazing.
    Smiles spread on our faces. I notice Holt is kind of beautiful when he smiles.
    Our arms are above our heads, and as we bring them down, our palms come together. His hands are big and warm. My skin tingles where we touch. Then I’m looking into his eyes, and we’re both not breathing, and I don’t know why.
    In a second, Holt’s expression fills with panic, and he tenses. He blinks and drops his gaze, and suddenly it’s like all the buoyancy has gone out of the air. Our energy slams into the floor and drains away.
    Holt steps away and exhales before looking over at Erika. “Are we done? Nobody else went for that long. We’re done, right?”
    Erika tilts her head and studies him. His posture is tense and challenging.
    I lower my hands. They’re cold now, and I clench them at my sides as my heart beats fast and unsteady.
    “Are we done or not?” Holt says, and every good thing I felt about him fades in the shadow of his rudeness.
    “Yes, Mr. Holt,” Erika says calmly while glancing at me. “You and Miss Taylor completed the exercise. Well done. You two have some interesting chemistry, don’t you?”
    He glares.
    She gives him a warm smile. “You may sit down. Everyone, give them a round of applause.”
    The whole group breaks into applause. I hear murmurs of surprise that we were so good.
    No one is more surprised than I am.
    Holt stalks back to the bleachers and sits. Zoe gushes beside him as she touches his bicep. She’d be more subtle if she ripped open her shirt and begged