Bad Romeo by Leisa Rayven Read Free Book Online

Haven’t you noticed?”
    “No, I haven’t.” His eyes are doing that annoying intense thing again. “I did notice one remarkable thing about you.”
    I cock an eyebrow. “Really? And what might that be?”
    He takes my hand, then pushes our palms together while he aligns our fingers.
    The same heat we shared in the auditions flares, and for a moment I think he’s going to say something about our amazing connection.
    Instead he says, “You have freakishly large man hands.”
    Excuse me?! “I do not have man hands!”
    “Yeah, you do. I noticed them when we did the mirror exercise. Look at them.”
    I examine our hands pressed against each other. His fingers are only slighter longer than mine, and that’s saying something, ’cause if he picked his nose with those suckers, he could give himself a lobotomy.
    “Maybe your hands are just girly,” I say.
    “Taylor, I’m six foot three and wear a size twelve shoe, and your hand is almost as big as mine. You can’t tell me you don’t find that bizarre.”
    I snatch my hand away and glare. “Well, thank you for pointing that out. Now I’m going to be super self-conscious about my mutant hands.”
    “Don’t be. Some guys might find it sexy. Mostly gay guys of course, because those hands are kind of butch—”
    “Shut up!”
    “Fine. I won’t mention them anymore. And I’ll try not to stare. No promises, though. They’re like giant attention-drawing satellites.”
    He thinks he’s funny. He’s so not.
    “Why do you hate me so much?” I ask.
    He looks at me for a moment, and blinks his crazy-pretty eyes. “I don’t hate you, Taylor. Why would you think that?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because when you’re not getting off on annoying me, you’re either ignoring me or scowling at me. And at the auditions you told me we weren’t going to be friends. Why would you say that?”
    He sighs and rubs his eyes. “Because we’re not. Why, do you want to be friends?”
    “Not particularly, which is really strange because usually I’m desperate to be everyone’s friend.”
    “I’ve noticed.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    He waves his hand dismissively, which, I conclude, should give me free rein to punch him in the stomach. “Nothing. Forget it. Whose turn is it to ask a question?”
    “No, I won’t forget it. What do you mean by that?
    “I think it’s my turn,” he says, ignoring me. “So, are you dating that Connor guy?”
    The question takes me by surprise. “What?”
    “Did I stutter? Are you dating him?”
    “Dating him as in…?”
    “Oh, Jesus, Taylor … as in going on dates. Seeing him naked. Fucking him.”
    “What?!” I’m so angry, I can barely breathe.
    “The point of the exercise is to answer the question,” he says calmly. “Honesty, please.”
    “It’s none of your business!”
    He leans in and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Do I need to get Erika over here and tell her you’re not completing the exercise she assigned? She wants us to share, remember?”
    The thought of Erika thinking badly of me makes me want to vomit. On him. “You are such a butthead.”
    “And you’re being evasive. Answer the question.”
    “Why do you care if I’m”—I want to shock him by saying the “F” word, but I just can’t push it past my lips—”dating him?”
    “I don’t. Just curious. You two looked pretty friendly earlier. In fact, it looked like he was going to feel you up in front of the whole class.”
    “God, you’re disgusting.”
    “Just answer the question.”
    “No!”
    “‘No,’ you’re not dating him, or ‘no,’ you won’t answer the question.”
    “Both.”
    “Well, that’s impossible. If it’s ‘no’ to the first you’re automatically saying ‘yes’ to the second.”
    “Stop. Talking.” My face is white-hot.
    “So is your answer to my original question ‘no’ or not?”
    “No, my answer isn’t ‘no.’”
    “No?”
    “No!” Dammit, now I’m confused as to what