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I scoff. “That is about enough out of you tonight.” I grab the bucket Holland thought to grab and put it in Em’s lap then shut the door, silencing her protest.
When I’m done, I turn to Holland. Her deep blue eyes are filled with amusement at my expense, not Emery’s. She loves our banter.
Her arms are wrapped around her torso, hugging herself. For Christ's sake, I didn’t even realize she had this tiny top on; she’s got to be freezing. For some reason, at this moment, it dawns on me that I’ve never really… noticed Holland as anything other than my little sister’s best friend, until right now. Maybe it’s because she’s dressed in a crop top that shows more cleavage than I’ve ever seen her with or because the skirt she’s wearing makes me want to cover her up so no one can see how short it is. Or it could be the way that her legs look paired with those heels. Even though they’ve gotta be five-inches tall, she’s still at least half a foot, if not shorter, than me. Her long, blonde hair falls past her chest to her waist.
Fuck, she’sgorgeous.
That’s the last thing I should be thinking about, yet here we are. I’ve watched her grow from a boy-band crazed teenager into… this beautifulwoman.
A woman who is so off-limits, it’s not even funny.
What the hell are you thinking, Davidson?
Get your shit together.
I clear my throat. “You cool with crashing at my place tonight? I’m sure Ma wouldn’t appreciate me dropping off the brat at her house tonight in her drunken state.”
Holland nods. “Yeah, I can go get my car tomorrow. Uh, could you possibly help me into the truck?” She looks down at her skirt, nervously. “This skirt and these shoes…”
Yeah, I can’t imagine she’d be able to get in there without flashing me and the world what's underneath it. Not like I’d complain right now…
What? I’m a guy.
“Yeah, of course.” I place my hands on her waist, ignoring the feel of her silky skin beneath my touch, and hoist her into the back seat of the truck. Definitely not taking a glimpse at her ass as she did so.
Nope. Absolutely not. I wouldn’t. Scout’s honor.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. This is bad. Obviously I should've picked a bunny and gone home with her, since I’m suddenly lusting after my little sister’s best friend.
It’s probably just an off night, and definitely a fluke.
Definitely.
Em falls asleep before I even pull away from the curb. She’s slumped awkwardly against the window, drool pooling in the corner of her mouth. I should snap a picture, so I can torture her with it later.
I grin at the thought.
The entire drive back to my house, I force myself to focus on the road, and not drag my eyes to the rearview mirror where Holland’s perched in the back seat, directly in my line of vision.
I only stole a few glances, and I didn’t think she noticed until our eyes connected in the mirror and something… different passes through our gaze.
Fuck, what is happening?
Tearing my gaze from hers, I fumble with the radio and turn it up to distract myself for the remainder of the drive. Once I pull into the driveway and come to a stop, Emery flies forward and her eyes pop open.
“What happened? What did I miss?”
Holland laughs her ass off at Emery’s sudden outburst, and then Em’s slumping back against the seat and letting out a soft snore.
“I’m not claiming her,” I mutter as I hop out of the truck, then open Holland’s door. She places her hand in mine and I help her out before going around to grab Em. It’s a whole damn production to get her into the house and up the stairs, but thank fuck, Holland takes over once we make it to the guest room.
They disappear through the door, and I head to my room and take a lightning-fast shower and throw on a pair of grey sweats and a faded black tee before walking back out to the hallway. Holland’s leaning against the wall next to the door, scrolling on her phone. She’s shed the heels and is standing barefoot now.
“Hey, uh, do you need something to sleep in? I have a shirt and some boxers I can give you?”
She jumps, clearly startled. “Holy crap, I didn’t even hear you come up. Yes, that would be great.”
I nod, and go back to my room, grabbing her an old hockey shirt and a pair of boxers. This is the first time since probably high school that I’ve slept in the same house as Holland, and it definitely feels nothing like it did back then.
