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“What’s the point of this? I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t lead you on. And, now, you’re trying to make me feel like a whore because I don’t want to have sex with you anymore. Where’s the logic in that?” Breathing in deep through her nose, there’s an almost visible cloak of calm that she pulls over herself and her features.
Instead of hitting him with heat, all that’s left is ice.
“You did a good job of convincing me you were a decent guy. Clearly, I was wrong. So, like I told you weeks ago, we’re done. Do not contact me again.”
I’m left to follow in her wake as Holly turns abruptly and strides to the car. Neither of us looks back.
It’s not until we’re on the road that Holly’s icy exterior cracks. Someone cuts in front of us without using their blinker, causing her to slam on the brakes. Aggressively, she punches the horn.
“For the love of Pete! Look where you’re going, you son of a biscuit-eater!” she shouts the words like they’re the ripest curses in the book.
Knowing she’s upset, I bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.
Her eyes stray to the side, and I turn my head too slow to hide my amused expression.
“What?” she snaps the word at me.
Again, I try to school my face. “Nothing. I completely agree with you. That guy is a”—I snort—“son of a biscuit-eater.” Another snort.
Holly punches me in the arm, but it’s not a hard hit, and she’s clearly fighting a smile. “You’re right; he is.”
Carefully, so as not to startle her, I reach over and give her knee a reassuring squeeze. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The car stays silent for a few more blocks, but eventually, she sighs. “I ended things with him pretty soon after I met you.”
Most of the tension leaks away from my shoulders. “Why?”
“He started hinting at having a relationship. And I didn’t want that.”
My heart and hopes take a nosedive at her words, barreling toward the ground. I brace myself for a fiery impact.
“But the bigger reason was that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Being with you. Roderick kinda paled in comparison.”
I level out, holding off on utter disappointment. “Do you still not want a relationship?”
We’ve reached her apartment, and Holly concentrates on parallel parking, leaving me to sit in suspense. When the car is settled, she shuts off the ignition and turns to meet my eyes.
“I want you. I want you to be mine. More isn’t good enough for me anymore. I want more than more.” Though her words are open and honest, from the way she sits, with her arms crossed, leaning back against the door, it’s obvious she’s bracing herself.
As if I’d reject her.
Reaching across the distance she put between us, I pry one of her hands free and kiss her palm. A slight curve of her lips is my reward.
“I want to tattoo my name on your forehead, so every guy in the world knows you’re mine.”
The curve grows, but she keeps her gaze on our hands. “That wouldn’t be very attractive.”
“I’d use a really nice font. I swear.” I lift her hand to my face, trying to get her to look at me. Time to get serious. “I’m already committed to you, Holly, but if you want the words, then let’s go for it. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend. We’re exclusive.”
That earns me her eyes, and they glint with happiness. She drops her hand from my face, only to use it to push the armrests out of her way, so she can crawl over to straddle my lap. Then, she takes my head and kisses me slow, driving me mad with want. Our lips separate enough for her to whisper to me, “I’m your girlfriend. You’re my boyfriend. We’re exclusive.” Another deep, searching kiss before she leans back, her gaze now full of excited mischief and a volcano’s worth of heat.
We need to get up to her apartment. Right now.
HOLLY
We race each other to the elevator.
I stand on one side of the tiny compartment, my hands tucked behind my back, pressed flat on the cool wall, so I won’t reach for him. Not yet.
