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“I get it,” she says softly. “I do. Maybe more than you realize. I think I’m just wishing…”
“Wishing for what?” Holt prompts gently.
Sally lets out a soft, cracking laugh like she’s on the verge of tears.
“To be innocent again,” she says. “To be innocent enough that when a man says he loves me, I can trust it.”
“I’m sorry if I’m the first asshole who broke that trust.” Holt lets go of her hands slowly, offering a rueful smile and touching her cheek. “You’ll be okay, Sal. You don’t need me for that. And you don’t need to try to rekindle a bunch of teenage craziness.”
“Maybe not.” She bites her lip, steps back, but then leans in, slipping her hands up over his chest and curling them around the back of his neck, rising on her toes. “Maybe one more kiss for old times?”
His face goes cold.
Holt grasps her wrists and pulls her arms back, bending at the waist and out of reach of her puckered lips. He darts me a desperate, wide-eyed look that’d be hilarious if this whole scene wasn’t so bitter.
I’ve seen enough.
Clearing my throat, I lurch forward from the door, acting like I just moseyed on in. “Hey, Holt. I was just looking for you!”
Over Holt’s shoulder, Felicity catches my eye from behind the bar and winks, mouthing Nice one.
I roll my eyes at her, but then offer Holt a smile before looking at Sally like I just noticed her. “Hi, Sally. How’s it going?”
Sally looks between me and Holt, stricken, while Holt slips an arm around my waist and pulls me pointedly close.
I don’t blame him.
And maybe I’m feeling a little possessive, too.
Because I snuggle against his side, just looking at Sally innocently, while she blinks again and again before offering a wavering smile.
“Everything’s great,” she says, her voice cracking—and oh shit, here come the waterworks. “Just great.”
Before either of us can say anything, she stumbles back, shaking her head. There’s a frosty look, like we did this just to hurt her.
Then she turns and scrams right out of The Nest.
With everyone staring after her, the café bursts into noisy chatter, like the movie just ended and everybody wants to talk about what it means.
We’re the only ones keeping quiet as I bury my face against his side with a soft, satisfied sound.
I know what Holt was like before, but he did it.
He turned her down for me.
“I didn’t mean to upset her,” I mumble, hating how guilty I feel. “But you told her no, and she was still trying to kiss you.”
“Honey, I’m grateful.” He kisses my temple, his breath warm and smelling like good coffee. “I’m the one who hurt her years ago. It’s my fault. She was clinging to something unrealistic. I’m happy you helped me help her get through that shit.”
With a half-smile, I tilt my head, looking up at him as I wrap my arms around his waist, though it feels like trying to span a giant tree trunk.
“Maybe I’ve just got a jealous streak,” I tease. “And since it’s illegal to brand human beings—”
“Yowch!” Holt mock-winces, but he’s smiling, the haunted look in his eyes fading to amusement and warmth that curls my toes. “Seriously, Libby, were you worried I’d hop into bed with her?”
I clear my throat. “Not worried, so much…but maybe wondering if you wanted to.”
“Not even for a second.”
Oh my God.
This man has no sense of shame.
Here we are in a coffee shop with my best friend watching, and he’s stroking his fingers in little circles over my back fit to make me melt, looking at me like I’m the only woman in the entire world.
His fingers bury in my hair, bringing that hot thrill I always get with a little pull on my scalp, igniting a reaction that sure ain’t fit for public consumption.
“Sex doesn’t mean anything if there’s no heart in it,” he whispers, husky and hot and so sincere. “Not anymore. Sally doesn’t have my heart. There’s only one woman who can make that claim now.”
Everything inside me twists into knots as I stare up at him, my breath going still in my chest.
It’s instinctive to want to doubt him, after watching a woman fly out of here in tears because she believed his pretty words so deeply that she’s been ruined since high school.
But that was then.
This is now.
And the Holt Silverton I know makes me laugh day in, day out, and quietly does everything he can to hold me up, so I don’t have to carry everything on my lonesome anymore.
That Holt wouldn’t ever play me.
He wouldn’t stand here in front of all these people and tell me I’m his.
Not if he didn’t mean it.
I don’t know what to say.
People keep watching us like they’re waiting for me to answer a proposal or something.
