Page 56 of When We Were Young

He chuckles. “I forgot how stubborn you are.”

“I prefer the term persistent.” There’s a hint of teasing in my voice.

“Okay, just a little—like an ounce. No more.”

I pour him a sample and then a glass for myself.

I watch him as he prepares to drink it. He actually plugs his nose.

“Oh my gosh, are you being serious right now? You don’t need to plug your nose for the lemonade. It’s not putrid.”

He removes his fingers from his nose but holds the glass low and in front of him.

“If it smells like lemonade, I might have an aversion to it right off the bat. I’m trying to prevent that.”

“This isn’t science, Holden. You don’t have to overthink it. Just take a sip.”

He inches the glass to his mouth, and I see him sniff. Then his eyes widen in surprise.

“Hmm. This one actually smells okay. Maybe even good.”

He takes a tentative sip, and then another, before tossing back the rest. He makes a clicking sound with his tongue a few times and then looks directly into my eyes, his expression serious.

“This is actually great. Like, I would drink this.”

He seems shocked that he enjoyed it, and I can’t help but smile.

“So, is it this or water?”

“I think I’ll have a glass of this if that's still okay.”

“Nope, too late.” His face falls, and I chuckle. “I’m just kidding. Absolutely.”

He graces me with a full Holden Aron smile.

I fill a glass for him and top off mine, as I’ve already downed half of my first.

He walks to one of the remaining booths, then peers at me.

“Can we sit and talk about your project for a few minutes?”

I’m reluctant for a few seconds, but then decide it’s all right since it’s for professional purposes. Otherwise, I can’t let myself forget he’s my past. He can never be my present. No one can, as long as Landon is hell-bent on ruining everything I care about unless he gets his way. That usually means trying to weasel his way back into a relationship with me.

Besides, Holden hurt me in a way that I felt deep down in my soul. I force the thoughts out of my head. They hurt too much to revisit.

I join him at the table, and we gingerly sip our lemonade for an awkward minute or two.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “What do you need to know from me?”

He sets his glass down and licks his lips. Unfortunately, my eyes catch the action. I must be needing some time with my trusty vibrator because this is like the third thing he’s done that’s turned me on. I don’t like that. It’s not safe for any part of me.

He watches me thoughtfully but, fortunately, says nothing.

“Well, I want to talk through what I understand the project to be, and then we’ll make sure that’s your understanding as well. If it is, then we’ll walk around and look at the structure. If it isn’t, then we’ll talk about what you do want.”

“Okay. That sounds all right.”

We spend the next fifteen minutes with Holden describing, in perfect detail—structurally, anyway—my vision for the other room.