Not My Romeo (The Game Changers 1)

She looks at me. “You look weird.”

“Do I?”

She nods and walks over to me.

I want things to be okay.

I want this thing we have.

But on my terms . . .

And I wonder how long that’s going to last?

Shit.

What am I doing with Elena? I’m going to hurt her just like I did Sophia.

Never hurt her!

I inhale sharply—shit—trying to regroup and focusing on her as she takes my jacket off, sniffs it, and gags. “Gross. I do not like this perfume.”

Sophia picked it out, and it wasn’t my favorite, either, but I keep my mouth shut, knowing better than to bring her up right now.

Elena tilts her head up at me, a fierce look on her face. “We are not going to discuss her. It’s done. Now take that suit off. I’m wiping your memory like a Jedi mind trick. Elena is the only girl you want to see at Milano’s,” she says, waving her hands in front of my face.

A laugh comes from me, rough and unsure. “Have you been standing in that pose waiting for me to come in?”

“You bet. All planned.”

“Vixen.”

“I was giving you five more minutes, and I was going to pull out the vibrator.”

“Liar.”

She cranks up Taylor Swift as I quickly unbutton my shirt, tugging it out of my pants and tossing it aside. My pants are next. Socks gone. She hates socks on me.

She turns and jumps in my arms, her legs locked around my hips. “Let’s do this. Nice and fast before we’re star-crossed lovers.”

Finally. She is in my arms, and I didn’t even realize how much I needed it. I put my head in her neck, inhaling, all of my territorial instincts roaring to the surface. She’s mine . . .

I groan and carry her over to the end of her bed, splaying her down as I hover over her.

Ask her.

“Elena?”

“Hmm?” She smiles up at me.

“Is there anything you need to tell me?”

She stills, holding my gaze. “Like what?”

It feels so wrong to even question her. It’s . . . Elena. She’s sweet and good and kind.

“Sophia . . . shit . . . Elena, can I trust you?”

Her eyes search mine for a long time, deeply. She knows what I mean, talking about me, selling a story if we don’t work out—

“Yes,” she says softly, and I close my eyes and kiss her.

Chapter 29

ELENA

“O happy dagger, this is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die!” I stab myself with the fake dagger and collapse to the ground across Jack, draping myself over his chest, my face away from the audience. My hair is down in long waves and falls down my back. Wearing a thin ankle-length white dress with bell sleeves and a lace-up bodice, I’m in full costume tonight, opening night just three days away.

“Nice death, Juliet. Wish we could have just stayed alive,” Jack murmurs.

I flick my eyes down at him. He’s so carefree like this, none of that Sophia stuff in his head. His hair is swept back off his face as he lies on the stone like a slab one of the prop guys made. Wearing a tight black shirt, skinny jeans, and motorcycle boots, he sports a fake gold gun tucked in a holster. He looks fucking amazing. I’ve barely kept my hands off him all night.

He looks up at me.

I grin. “You just drank poison because you couldn’t stand to live without me. Why are your eyes open?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “You smell good. Your fault. That dress is hot. Trying to figure out how to get my hand under it without anyone seeing.”

I giggle, trying to keep it muffled. It’s been two weeks of this, us at practice together, the intense feelings I feel every time he looks at me and says his lines, especially the ones where he talks about loving me.

No, Elena. Don’t rush . . .

But I can’t help it.

I’m flying high when I’m with him, when he’s inside me, murmuring my name like a litany, his hands on my body.

But when I’m alone . . .

Taking chances, I remind myself in my head.

Isn’t it worth it?

We might fall apart at any minute.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, keeping his voice low. “Did I flub my line? Too much tongue with that last kiss? Shit. Too much tongue.”

My lower body clenches at the way he kisses me onstage. The first time it happened was a few nights ago, when it wasn’t required, but there he went anyway, laying one on me during the balcony scene. The whole crew watched us, and I didn’t even care. “I don’t think she meant make out . . .” I try not to laugh. “Your lines were great.”

“I still worry I’m going to forget a line.”

I shift slowly, managing to squeeze his hand. “I’ll be here. Just picture them all as meerkats out there, wearing top hats and being ridiculous. Good trick I learned early on.”