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He smirks. "I don't know whether to be scared or turned on."
A laugh of both humor and shock comes out of my mouth. While his sudden forwardness catches me a little off guard, I should have expected it.
"You lack a filter when you're sick. Did you know that?"
Holden hums as he swallows down the medication. "I think it's just you."
"Me?!"
"Mhm. You bring out the best in me." He flirts.
I try to contain my smile. "Alright Casanova. I think the congestion is messing with your head."
Kicking off my shoes, I put my jacket on the back of his chair and walk to the other side of his bed. As soon as I get close, he lifts the blanket for me to slide into bed with him.
"I'm sorry I got you sick." I tell him as soon as I get comfortable.
He smiles softly. "Don't be. I knew the risks."
"And to think I once hated you."
"You mean you don't anymore?"
I pretend to think about the question. "Meh. You're alright."
A bark of laughter leaves his mouth. "Good to know."
The two of us spend the afternoon joking around and talking about things like hockey and Holden's plans after graduation. The thought of being at school without him makes me sick to my stomach, but I don't dare to admit it. Throughout all our conversations, however, we both dance around the topic of our current relationship status – avoiding it at all costs.
After a few hours, I look over to find him fast asleep. There's something beautiful about how innocent he looks, the light hitting his face just right. He's gorgeous. For a short moment, I wonder what he could be dreaming about, but my hopes are way too high to think like that right now.
Feeling daring, I lean over and press a light kiss to his forehead – careful not to wake him. I pull away slowly and turn to get out of the bed. Just before I stand, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist.
"Where are you going?" Holden asks with a groggy voice.
I smile sadly, wishing I could just spend the rest of the night here with him. "I have to get back to work."
"No, stay. Please?" He pouts in the adorable way that gets me every time. Mix that with the fact that he's sick – I don't stand a chance.
Glancing at the clock, I notice there are only a few hours left before we're supposed to close. Still, I can't find it in me to deny him – so instead of leaving, I nod and lay down, turning on my side so we're facing each other. Neither one of us say a word, but his hand slides down from my wrist to interlace our fingers. It feels like home.
"What are you thinking about?" I ask after a few minutes of silence.
He arches himself up on one arm, and I adjust my body to the angle. He looks as if he's having some deep internal debate. Then suddenly, his expression changes to determination.
"Screw it." He murmurs, and the next thing I know his mouth is on mine.
I gasp, not expecting the abrupt movement, but Holden doesn't miss a beat. He releases my hand and moves his grip to my waist – his touch slipping under my shirt and burning my skin. I lace my fingers into his hair and pull lightly, causing a low moan to emit from the back of his throat.
There may be a lot that I'm not sure of, but right here in this moment, I know that I want him.
BY THE TIME I make it back to Dolce, Dawson is getting ready to close. Upon walking in, I notice Bree and Skylar are already here.
"You have sex hair." Skylar remarks as soon as she sees me.
I laugh. "No I don't, because we didn't have sex."
Bree studies me carefully. "Then how'd you get a hickey on your neck?"
