Page 8 of Holden

Lindsay leans up against the kitchen counter, her red hair like a flame against the cheap white cabinets. She tilts her head back and folds her arms across her chest.

I make a face. “What?”

“Not even a little?”

The first inklings of doubt scrunches between my shoulder blades. “You’d date a guy you know is absolutely wrong for you, just because he’s hot?”

Lindsay rolls her eyes. “Not date. Have sex with. Which is what you should do.”

My eyes grow wide. “Seriously?”

She shrugs like she hasn’t dropped an atomic bomb. “He’s rich. Hella hot…”

I gasp. “And a total asshole.”

“So, what,” Lindsay says, with a laugh. “You’re not looking to marry the guy. Just have a little fun. What can it hurt?’ Her eyes twinkle. “I mean, besides your crotch. You’ve been celibate so long, you need to be broken in.”

I shake my head, half disgusted by the way this conversation has turned and half amused. Along with Lindsay’s exterior transformation, an attitude has emerged, a kind of take-no-shit vibe that most of the time grates on my nerves. Like smoking her e-cig in our apartment when it’s a clear violation of dorm rules.

The trouble is, she doesn’t always understand that actions have consequences, and my guts tells me that sleeping with Holden would create all kinds of problems for me—including a broken heart.

But damn if I’m not tempted.

“I’m kidding about the pain,” Lindsay says. “Mostly. But in all seriousness, you’ve been alone for so long. I worry. This might be just what you need.”

I exhale a breath and shake my head. “No. It just doesn’t feel…” What? I think back to Holden’s smoldering gaze, the slight twitch of his lips as he basically asked me to prostitute myself for a damn interview. No matter how desperate I am to learn more about my father and what really happened on that tragic day, I’ll find another way. One that isn’t demoralizing.

One that won’t make me sick to look at myself in the mirror the next morning.

“Doesn’t feel what, Chels?” Lindsay says, piercing me with her inquisitive eyes.

“Like me.” I stand, flinging my purse over my shoulder. “It’s not something I would ever do.”

I feel Lindsay’s eyes on my back as I make my way toward my cramped bedroom. “So, what now?” she asks.

She’s talking about the assignment, but my heart hurts thinking about the opportunity I’ve lost to get the answers I’m looking for.

“Now?” I glance over my shoulder and attempt a sincere grin. “I study. I’ve got a wicked exam tomorrow.”

Chapter 5

I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, snippets of conversation luring me in and out of sleep. Conflicting emotions pull at my energy, draining my reserves. I’m tired, disappointed, aroused…

I can’t be sure when I finally allow my brain to shut down for the night.

The next thing I know, Holden’s voice is reverberating in my ears, his sensual whispers drawing out a low moan from the base of my throat.

He’s here. He’s with me now.

Blindly, I grip the sheets in my fists, and tilt my pelvis upward, as if to meet some part of him.

“That’s it,” he says, scraping his teeth across my shoulder blade. Every nerve in my body snaps to attention. “Tell me what you want.”

My breath hitches. “I want you.”

In the darkness, Holden’s touch becomes amplified. His deft finger trails down my inner thigh, and circles my knee before inching its way up toward my pussy. I’m wet, aching for his touch. He whispers again, his breath feathering across my ear. “Does this feel good, baby?”

My response is a strangled whimper of yearning.