AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I walk toward him slowly, studying the tense line of his shoulders and feeling the irritation radiating off him.
“Bad practice?”
He stills and spins, watching me walk toward him. “Bad day.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Holden studies me. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” I hold out the Oceanography book I borrowed from him on Thanksgiving. “Here you go.”
We haven’t spoken all week. His dad is still in town, so I haven’t been spending as much time over at the Adamses’. I want Sydney—and Holden—to have as much time with their dad as possible. And I’m perpetually confused about where Holden and I stand. Are we just sex? Does he want more? Do I want more? Should we try to salvage our friendship?
I miss him. Ever since that night in the kitchen where I stole a sip of beer from him, it feels like something permanently shifted between us. Like he finally noticed me again. It makesme feel weak and pathetic; the girl sitting around waiting instead of pursuing life.
ButHoldendoesn’t make me feel weak or pathetic. I walked in here stressed and uncertain. And now, just from looking at him, there’s a lightness in my chest that wasn’t there before. A bubbly giddiness. Happiness.
Should you chase happiness if it’s attached to a guy who broke your heart once before?
Holden takes the textbook from me and walks over to the bleachers, tossing it into a pile of his stuff.
I should go. Instead, I drop my own backpack and grab one of the abandoned basketballs, dribbling it a few times before shooting. It bounces off the rim and to the side.
“Lower your elbow.”
I send Holden a glare. “I didn’t ask for pointers.”
He flashes me a smile. The smirk that makes me feel like I’m floating and flying and falling. The expression I’d do anything for.
Then he walks over, not stopping until he’s standing right behind me. He smells good. Not like cinnamon today, but something masculine and musky. The heat of his body radiates, warming my back and flushing my cheeks.
His hands land on my hips, shifting me slightly so I’m facing the hoop head on. I pull in a deep breath, unable to think about anything but the last time he held my hips—while he was moving inside of me.
Goosebumps spread across my skin as his hands move upward, skating across my sides until he reaches and adjusts my elbows. My breathing is erratic now, frantic huffs and puffs as I try to focus on the basket I’m supposed to be making.
I sway back against him as Holden releases my arms and tugs at the bottom of my ponytail. He chuckles as our bodies brush, his own breathing deep and even. Unaffected.
But I don’t think he is.
There have been enough moments between us where there’s something more, when he’s let his guard down a little. He’d do it when we were kids, but the secrets he’d share were breaking the garage window while playing basketball. Admitting to missing his dad. Staying up later than he was supposed to, watching television. Nothing like his hopes and fears now.
“You’re supposed to shoot.”
Instead of replying or taking the shot, I turn around and drop the ball. It bounces and rolls away, but neither of us look down or make any attempt to retrieve it. Holden stares at me, and I stare at him.
His blue eyes are stormy yet clear, taking me in with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. He looks like he wants to consume me, and I want to let him.
I step forward, all but erasing the distance between us. I raise one hand, brushing the stubborn piece of hair that’s usually flopped on his forehead away. Outside of our most intimate moments, I’ve never really touched him. Not like this, at least. Not when we’re all alone, so purposeful and direct.
I’m proud of how I hold eye contact as I trail my fingers down and across his jaw, not shirking from his searching expression or worried what he’ll find. I’ve gained confidence from our physical interactions. It’s much easier for me to read how he responds to those than how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking. I don’t think he’ll reject me this way, and it emboldens me.
“What are you doing, Cassia?”
I slide my hand lower, fisting the fabric of his shirt. “I miss your cock.”
His eyes flare, surprise and lust mixing in ocean-colored depths.
There. I did my scary thing for the day.
