I kissed Holden fucking Verity.
I kissed him for more than a minute. Now I need a flipping shower. An ice bath. Maybe twelve hours in a dark closet praying so I can wipe away my sins like mud.
Honestly, I’d settle for a nice, deep hole in the ground.
He still doesn’t look at me. Why would he?
His hand lingers on his jaw, rubbing like he wants to scrub away the feel of my hands on him.
I have no clue what to say.
How do you even smile and apologize for kissing your older, forbidden bodyguard?
He kissed me back, sure, but right now he looks like he wishes it never happened. Zero doubt he blames me, and I probably deserve it.
“Um. I should probably—” I stop.What? Apologize?
“I’m sorry, Cleo,” he bites off.
The silence eats us again.
Weirdly, his unexpected apology just makes me more uncomfortable. Now I’m the one who can’t stand to look at him.
I stare at my hands instead, turning them over, fidgeting for relief that won’t come.
“I didn’t mean it,” I say harshly. “Kissing you, I mean. I guess I forgot who I was with, and… and I was just so glad to hear the good news. Totally overreacted.” My broken laugh sounds so fake. “Obviously, I got carried away. Sugar high,” I finish.
Understatement of the century.
Sugar high?
Pathetic.
If he weren’t in front of me, I’d bury my head in my hands and maybe gouge my eyes out for good measure. If oblivion could find me right now, that’d be cool.
“Sugar high,” he echoes gruffly. “That does make sense.”
It doesn’t, and that’s the problem.
I knew I found him attractive.
I’m a red-blooded woman, so that was a given. And over the past couple days, the complicated mix of good looks and awful, conflicting attitudes grew into this teensy crush.
Slightly more than ateensycrush.
He’s just so big and mean andcapable.
Every girl’s dream: a man who can beat up her problems and still take her to art museums and whip up breakfast.
But it’s more than that. It’s more than the miles of brute muscle that can knock down doors or his great cooking skills or how much he cares for his fam when I grew up convinced he just climbed into a dark hole and slept like a vampire once the day was over.
Holden, he’s—
He’s beenkind. He’s been gentle and sweet.
He still might piss me off sometimes, sure, but every day makes it harder to see the inhuman ass.
When he stops treating me like a kid, everything changes. It’s easy to lose the old dynamic, where he was just PopPop’s watchdog.
