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Holt blinked at her. She’d been quick to jump in and make sure Steven didn’t see anything between the two of them. But in doing so, she’d given away information he didn’t like giving out. Damn it. If people at work knew he was having headaches, and episodes, he’d never be able to keep his job. He’d already lost one position due to his injury.
He wasn’t about to lose another.
Steven eyed Holt. “You still get those? I thought they stopped.”
“Uh…” He looked at Lydia, giving himself a second to form his thoughts. “I don’t get them anymore. They stopped. I thought I was going to have another one, but then it went away. False alarm.”
“Oh. Good.”
Lydia crossed her arms. “Yeah.”
He stared right the fuck back at her. If he didn’t want to tell anyone he was having migraines and panic attacks and every other awful thing he had…then it was his own fucking business. She’d sworn to keep his secret, and she would.
Steven cleared his throat. “Anyway, I have to go to another morning meeting with my new supervisor, and I’m late. Can you maybe give Lydia a ride back to her place, Holt? It’s why I called you over here.”
“Yes, of course,” he said.
At the same time, Lydia said, “I can call a cab.”
“No.”
“No,” Holt said at the same time as Steven. It earned him a weird look from his best friend. “I mean, I don’t mind.”
Lydia nodded once. “All right.”
Steven grabbed his bag and hugged Lydia. “Let me know if you hear back from Ian. He’s supposed to be calling you again today.”
“Yeah.” Lydia glanced at Steven, then back at Holt. “Of course.”
Holt stiffened. Who the fuck was Ian? And why hadn’t she mentioned him before? He nodded at Steven as he walked by, waiting to hear the door shut behind him. As soon as it did, he cocked a brow. “Ian?”
She nodded, smoothing her hair with a trembling hand. “Yeah.”
“Is there something I need to know about this Ian guy?”
Lydia blinked. “No. He’s nobody. Just some guy that…that Steven wants me to meet, is all.”
“Is that so?”
She crossed her arms. “Yeah.”
“Bullshit. He—” He shook his head at himself. What the hell did he think he was doing, demanding answers out of her? They weren’t exclusive. They weren’t anything, really. “Never mind. Forget I asked. Ready to go?”
“Yeah. Come on.”
When they got to his truck, he helped her into it again, but his mind was elsewhere on the ride to her place. On this Ian guy, whoever the fuck he was. Was she seeing him, too? He’d beat the shit outta the guy, and then strangle him until he never even thought about approaching his Lydia again. Shit. He didn’t even know the guy, but he was already fantasizing about kicking his ass. With a muttered curse, he pulled into her parking lot, his grip on the wheel even tighter than before.
She glanced at him, then sighed and opened her door. “Well, thanks for the ride.”
“I’ll walk you up.”
She hopped down.
“You don’t have—”
“I said, I’ll walk you up.” He opened his door and shut it behind him. “And I will.”
“All right.” She shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”
