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“I’m fine. I took an elbow to the side during the second quarter,” he explains. “Team doc was being extra cautious is all.”
I take the cold pack from him and press it gently against his red knuckles.
“I had it handled,” I say. “You didn’t need to get involved.”
Holden scoffs. “Yeah, I did.”
“You guys won the game.”
“I didn’t hit him because he’s a shitty basketball player. I hit him because he was talking to you.”
“You can’t punch every guy who talks to me, Holden.”
He smirks. “Watch me.”
“I’m serious. You guys should be celebrating tonight. And he wasn’t doing anything.”
“Yeah, he was.”
I exhale, realizing this isn’t an argument I’ll win.
“I’m still fighting for you, flower.”
When I look over at Holden, he’s smirking.
“I didn’t mean that literally.”
“Come here.”
After a second of deliberation, I crawl across the seat into his lap. I can barely fit between his body and the wheel. If my butt sets off the horn, I’ll be humiliated.
But it’s hard to focus on anything but Holden when his attention is totally focused on me.
“You won,” I tell him.
He smiles. “I know. Wasn’t sure we would.”
“Undefeated.” I push some hair off his forehead, and he leans into my touch, smiling.
“Yeah.”
“The guys are having a party?”
“Yeah. I need to go for a little bit. But after…” Holden shifts, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He squints at the screen, then answers. “Sydney?” Instantly, his face turns serious. “Yeah, of course. Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” He hangs up. “Sydney’s in labor.”
“What?” I pull my phone out, only to discover the screen is black. And remember that it’s dead.
“We gotta go.”
I nod, sliding off his lap and buckling my seatbelt.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
HOLDEN
Ipace the length of the hall, glance at the closed door, then start pacing again.
“Sit down,” Cassia tells me. “You’re stressing me out.”
