Chapter 7
seven
HOLDEN
Ishot up off the bench the second she pressed end. My chest was tight and I couldn’t take a full breath. Oh, man. What had I done? Stupid question. I knew exactly what I’d done. I’d just broken the one rule I’d lived by for the last ten years.
Never, ever initiate the kiss. Ever.
No matter what.
I pressed on my temples. Maybe Christy was my kryptonite. For years, Silas had been telling me it could happen. Said she might be out there somewhere. Lemon was his.
Kryptonite or not, I didn’t have the luxury of giving in.
The difference between Silas and me was that he could be a soft place for Lemon to land.
But I shouldn’t be anyone’s landing place.
I was all jagged parts and sharp edges that cut to the bone.
Loving me came with too many risks. My past was a constant reminder of that.
Why had I let myself listen to her FaceTiming her family? It was none of my dang business. And from the way she was glaring at me right then, I was fairly sure she hadn’t wanted my help. I paced the floor, my arms wrapped around my head.
“Uh. What was that?” Christy asked.
I stared at her, chest heaving, not sure what to say. “Sorry…your family…they’re something else.”
“Yeah. I told you that. Did you not believe me?”
I had. But this was even worse than she’d described. What kind of sisters mastermind a humiliating scheme to marry their sibling off without her permission?
Her hands flew out. “Why else do you think I took a job across the country in the same town as my ex? Did you think I was trying to get him back? Like some kind of stalker-lunatic person?” Her voice shook. She was going to cry again.
“No. I never thought that.” Without thinking, my hands started to lift, reaching out to pull her to me. I snatched them back to my side. Like I said, kryptonite. Get it together. There’s a reason you’re a one-man band.
Shields back up, starting now. Cocky Holden persona engaged. It was the only way to keep this grenade from detonating.
I ran a hand through my hair. “It got under my skin, is all. Sorry.” I turned to walk to the leg extension machine, hoping she’d let it be.
“Excuse me? Nuh-no. We’re not done here.” She grabbed my arm, stopping me. And that tiny contact sent my stupid heart fluttering like I was back in high school. “My family is going to expect to see you around when they FaceTime. They’ll want pictures and updates.”
I stepped away, shaking her off. “Yeah. That’s why I apologized. My mistake.” I sat down and pulled the pin out of the sixty-pound slot. Had a toddler used this last?
“Your mistake?” She folded her arms across her chest, jaw right, buzzing with irritation. “No.”
I chuckled and shoved the pin into the heaviest slot—two hundred and fifty pounds. “What do you mean, no?” Then I hooked my feet under the pads of the machine.
“No. You don’t get to kiss me like that in front of my family and then say, “Sorry.” She mimicked my deep voice on the last word, adding an arrogance that was probably deserved.
Fine. It was fully deserved. But I couldn’t go soft in front of her.
If she knew how weak I really was I would be the doll and she would be the voodoo master.
I shrugged like a heartless tool. “I mean, I just did.”
She called me a name that would’ve made my mom’s toes curl.
Then she sat on top of my feet with a glare that said she held me responsible for making her resort to such petulant behavior.
“No,” she said again. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it.
They think I have a hot lawyer boyfriend named Holden.
That’s going to be a problem for me. A big one. ”
“Sexy,” I corrected. She probably weighed around a hundred pounds. Good. Two-fifty wasn’t close to enough.
She folded her arms again, lips pursed. “Excuse me? Did you just call me sexy?” Her face was twisted in adorable fury.
“You told them I was your ‘sexy lawyer boyfriend.’ Not hot.” I gripped the machine handles and took a deep breath.
Then I heaved, taking her for a waist-height ride.
She shrieked, fell forward, and gripped the tops of my knees.
Dag-gone-it. I did not need her touching my bare skin, causing electricity to thrum up my legs like that.
Her jaw dropped, incensed that I would actually use her to get my sweat on. But she didn’t hop off. Simply readjusted her position, eyes trained on me like a scope. “You are unbelievable,” she said.
In response, I heaved again, swinging her faster this time. She crossed her arms, lips pressed flat, as I swung her up six more times. I had to give it to her, she had a strong core.
When the set was over, she leaned forward, fingers digging into either side of my knees. “You’re going to be my standby boyfriend, Holden. That’s the only way I’m forgiving you.”
I scoffed. That was a solid nope. Such a bad idea.
Hugging her, holding hands, kissing her like we just had?
Nopity, nope, nopers. Not if I wanted her to stay safe.
And I did. A deep-rooted need to protect her had burrowed into my chest. Not sure when it started.
This summer? Maybe. The minute I spotted Amber Taylor at the game?
Absolutely. The urge to tuck Christy against me and use my body as a shield if need be was in full force.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Forgiving me? For what? Saving you from having to star in your own real-life season of The Bachelorette? You should be kissing my feet, not sitting on them.”
Her jaw clenched. “I had the situation under control.”
“Hardly.”
Anger permeated her expression. She hopped up and yanked the pin out of the machine, making it useless. Then she tossed it across the room, eyes blazing.
I coughed into my elbow, trying to hide a laugh.
I could throw her over my shoulder and run laps if I wanted to.
Did she think she was intimidating? I shrugged and walked over to the leg press.
But no sooner had I sat down than she yanked the pin out of that one too.
She hurled it in the opposite direction.
The only other person in the gym, a woman covered in tats, glanced over like we’d lost our minds.
I bit the insides of my cheeks, fighting the guffaws trying to roll through my chest. And it took every ounce of willpower not to pull her in my arms and kiss her again. She was so stinking adorable when she was mad.
I sat down at the hack squat machine. Then the seated arm curl. Seated overhead press. Pins pulled. Back extension. Hamstring curl. Pec fly. Seated dip. Pins, pins, pins, everywhere.
The tatted lady grabbed her bag and headed for the exit, keeping a side-eye trained on incoming pin-missiles as she escaped. Crap. I hope we didn’t just cost Silas and Lemon a customer.
Christy threw her hands up after chucking another one. “I can do this all night.”
“Me too.” I walked to the lying leg curl machine.
She jumped in front of me, gripping my biceps and glaring me down.
Up actually. She barely reached my shoulder.
“You’re going to pose as my fake boyfriend, Holden.
Whenever I need you to. I moved all this way so they wouldn’t be on me about my love life.
And now you’ve made them think that I actually have one.
You have no idea what you’ve started but you are most definitely going to finish it. Do you hear me?”
I booped her on the nose. “You’re so cute when you’re mad. Like a little pissed off fairy.”
Her eyes narrowed. But then they filled with tears. No, no, no. Tears were exactly what I was trying to avoid.
I’d have to Google the chemicals that make up fictional kryptonite because I swear her real-life tears contained all of them. My hands yearned to touch her, to pull her against me and smooth her hair. To tell her I would do anything and everything she ever asked me to.
But I couldn’t.
I jammed them down by my side. “C’mon, Chris. Don’t cry. I was just teasing you.”
“Don’t you dare call me that.” Her chin quivered. “Only my friends get to call me Chris, and you’re being a complete jackwagon.” A tear rolled off her jaw and it killed me.
“Trust me.” I sighed, almost no restraint left. “I’m the last person you want pretending to be your boyfriend.”
That was the wrong thing to say, I guess, because her shoulders rolled back, her eyes turned to red-hot coals, and she jabbed her finger deep into my chest. “I don’t care. You’re going to be on speed dial or I’m. Telling. Silas.”
I huffed but there was a little shake to my voice. “Telling Silas what?”
She poked her finger harder, probably leaving a bruise. “That you kissed me just now. That you exploited someone in their moment of need just so you could get some lip action.”
Was that really what she thought? My face felt like it was hanging from a spit over the world’s biggest bonfire. I’d done it for her. Did she think I was taking advantage of her?
With the last bit of my reserve, I shrugged like I didn’t care. “This conversation just went completely juvenile. You’re threatening to tattle to my brother.”
She stabbed me again, digging in. “More juvenile than objectifying a perfectly respectable woman?”
Had she just gut-punched me? No. But the words stole my air all the same. There was nothing she could’ve said that would’ve hurt more. She had no idea how hard I went out of my way not to objectify women.
Her eyes flashed. “I don’t go around locking lips for fun, you know. If I kiss someone, I mean it. Unlike some people.”
“Oh, really?” Now I was feeling the irritation. “So, you meant it when you kissed me at Sophie’s place?”
She straightened and shrugged like our kiss was an annoying bug she was shaking off. “A moment of temporary insanity.”
My mouth parted. Oh, wow. That was a fist to the chest. I’d thought it meant something. It had felt like it meant something. To me, at least.