A Tale of Two Centuries

shuffle into the cluttered, deserted dressing room.

Romeo and Juliet was the last scene performed in the workshop. While I stood in the wings, watching each performance and waiting to see if Austin would sneak backstage and find me, everyone else came in here, threw off their costumes, and changed, and then hurried to the awaiting media room for post- performance interviews. Ms. Kent expects me to make a stop in there as well, and I know that I should—hearing their accolades will be nice, although perhaps not quite as fun to hear their criticism—but right now, I need the quiet.

All around me, cast members’ discarded costumes hang off surfaces. Balloons and teddy bears sent by their well-wishing relatives and admirers cover the counters. And the cloying scent of far too much perfume clouds the air. I pad across the floor, careful to sidestep a dulled prop sword, and stop in front of the brightly lit table with the cardstock sign labeled Alessandra.

Amongst my scattered hairbrushes and makeup sits a dozen beautiful red roses in full bloom with an envelope floating above it, inscribed with Jenna’s swirly handwriting: Congratulations, Alessandra! Another card, this one sticking out of a bouquet of friendly white daisies reads: Who owned that stage?

I smile as I open the cards my loved ones sent me, telling me how proud they are and how much they care. There’s even a small piece of folded parchment from Reyna, simply saying, Well done. But search as I do under the piles of makeup brushes and bottles of hairspray, there isn’t a single note from Austin.

In the mirror, my reflection stares back at me with dead eyes.

I have lost him.

A movement in the glass behind me captures my attention. I blink as an enormous bouquet materializes in the glass.

“Delivery for Juliet.”

My heartbeat stalls at the familiar deep timbre, then sets off again, hammering the now erratic pulse against my breastbone. I whirl around, breathless with hope.

“Austin?”

The vase of blossoms lowers. “Hey there, Princess.”

My fingertips tingle, and I clench them at my sides so I don’t just bolt into his arms—there’s too much I need to say to him first.

I swallow and wet my lips, open my mouth…and don’t know where to begin.

It’s not as if I haven’t thought about this moment every second since he stormed out of the library yesterday. I’ve rehearsed the same words over and over again—the words I wish I would have said then—so many times that they’ve now become meaningless. Yet now, standing here with him, none of it seems to be enough. So leaving behind my beautiful, well-prepared speech, I simply say, “Hello, yourself.”

Austin shifts his weight. “Look, Alessandra.” He thrusts his fingers through his hair. “Yesterday… Yesterday I—”

He breaks off, cursing under his breath, dumping the vase of blooms on the nearest table. With four long strides, he covers the distance between us and takes hold of my shoulders. “Yesterday I screwed up. I never should’ve left you like that. I just kept thinking about that guy putting his hands on you and I couldn’t stand it. The thought of losing you…” He swallows hard. “But when I was watching you tonight, I—”

“You watched my performance?” Everything about Austin’s speech has been perfect, but knowing he witnessed me up on that stage means more to me than any pretty promise or apology ever could.

His brows furrow. “Well, yeah. Of course.”

And that’s all I need to know.

Unclenching my hands, I do what I’ve wanted to do ever since I saw him walk through the door—ever since I met him, if I am to be completely honest. I leap into his arms, clamp my legs around his waist, and capture his lips in a kiss meant to show him exactly how much I’ve missed him. How much I am falling in love with him. And how much his being here for me means.

Austin hesitates only a moment, a surprised breath fanning my lips before he crushes me against him and returns the kiss stroke for stroke, moan for moan, and nibble for delicious nibble. When he wrests control of it, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth, my bones seem to liquefy, and I melt into the strength of his arms.

He presses a hot line of open-mouthed kisses on the column of my throat, and I tilt my head to give him better access. He licks the sensitive spot just under my ear. The rasp of stubble on his chin grazes my skin, and I shiver, never wanting this moment to end.

But all too soon, Austin leans back. I moan a protest, and he grins, a mischievous glint alight in his eyes. “Now this isn’t how a proper sixteenth-century Ice Princess is supposed to act.”

I laugh and lock my ankles around him tighter. “Then I guess it’s a very good thing I’m not one anymore.”

Then, just to prove I mean it, I kiss him again.

…

“Knock, knock.” Cat pokes her head around the open dressing room door and asks, “Everyone decent?”

Austin sits up from his slouched position on the sofa and wraps his arm around my waist. Tugging me tighter against him, he mutters under his breath, “Unfortunately,” and I slap his chest with a grin.

Cat frowns as she steps through the doorway, then looks back at Lucas and shakes her head. “Damn, I knew we waited too long.”

I smile at their teasing and the scandalous implications, then laugh when I realize a few weeks ago, I would have been completely horrified. Nestling myself farther into the warmth of Austin’s embrace, I pat the empty space on the sofa beside me. “On the contrary, dear cousin, your timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

Austin slaps hands with Lucas in a manly sort of greeting. “Though I ain’t gonna lie, another hour with her all to myself wouldn’t have sucked.”

I bite my lip and lower my eyes to the ground. The problem is that I do not have another hour. And the fact that the playfulness of Austin’s tone and gesture didn’t quite reach the deep blue of his eyes lets me know that is a fact of which he is well aware.

Apparently, so is Cat. A strange noise rises in her throat. I look up to see her fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she knocks her knees gently against mine. At first, she doesn’t say anything, choosing to let the silence say it all. Then, “Guess it’s about that time.”

Tension crackles in the room. It seeps into my muscles and makes my head feel heavy.

Cat looks to Lucas, Lucas to Austin, Austin to me.

The tick of an old clock on the wall hits my ears—tick, tick, tick, tick—and my pulse slows to keep time with the lonely, terrifying beat.

I try to swallow, but suddenly it feels as though my throat is coated with cotton.

Austin coughs and locks eyes with Lucas, communicating wordlessly. Lucas nods. “I’ll drive,” he says, digging his car keys out of his pocket and twirling them on his finger. That he has to try so hard to look at ease makes everything so much worse.

Austin mumbles his thanks and stands, then turns around and offers me his hand.

Staring at his open palm, I hesitate…and shake my head. “No.”

Austin’s hand jerks back, then lurches out to grab mine. “No?”

Squeezing his fingers, I lift my gaze. The flash of incredulity in his stormy blue eyes is nearly my undoing, so I turn to look at my cousin and Lucas, seeing equal astonishment in them.

“I need to do this on my own,” I explain.

“No way,” Austin says, barely allowing me to finish. “Not happening. I’m going in there, and if she—”

“Hey, Marilyn needs you.”

We all jump at the intrusion as Reid stops midway into the room. His body tenses as he quickly surveys our faces. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yeah, man,” Austin says, pulling me to my feet. “You kinda are.” He loops his arms around my waist, staking a visual claim. “Tell Marilyn Alessandra is busy at the moment.”

At the dismissive tone in Austin’s voice, Reid crosses his arms. He has changed out of his Romeo costume, and the buttons of his long-sleeved shirt strain against the hostile gesture. “I think the girl can answer for herself,