Chapter 9
nine
HOLDEN
It was a dangerous game we were playing.
Maybe it was Christy’s nonchalance about the whole fake-dating charade or the incredible pheromones that were messing with my head, but for the first time since high school, I was letting a woman rule my choices.
Twenty times a day I checked my phone, hoping, praying, telepathically willing Christy to text or call.
Most days she came through, filling my life with excitement and anticipation.
The days she didn’t were hollow and dull.
In the two weeks we’d been a ‘couple,’ we’d gotten together nine times at her apartment to take pictures or FaceTime her family.
The past two evenings, we’d fallen asleep on her couch, arms and legs tangled up, The Office playing in the background.
My word, I’d never known cuddling could be such a turn-on.
Flying down the highway, my fingers drummed the steering wheel as I replayed last night’s cuddle session while I waited for a text from my law school buddy.
It was the third trip I’d made back to DC for a job interview and I was already tired of the back and forth.
If it weren’t for Christy I would’ve just stayed at my townhouse. But back to Seddledowne I headed.
Tessie announced, “Albert ‘Tripp’ Murphy says, ‘Sorry, man, I think they’ve decided to pass.’”
I scratched my jaw, irritation bubbling. Another rejection. I was just arrogant enough to admit that I’d forgotten the sting that it left, it had been so long since I’d experienced it.
I pressed the button to respond. “Any idea why?” Though I was pretty sure I already knew.
Another text came through but this one was from Anna.
“Anaphylaxis says, ‘Where are you?’” I picked up my phone to see a picture of her and Silas stuffing massively juicy burgers into their wide-open mouths. Oh man, that looked good.
“Almost there,” I murmured to myself.
“Albert ‘Tripp’ Murphy says, ‘They didn’t say. I know they were impressed when you walked out of here. But they just got off the phone with your old firm a few minutes ago so I’m guessing that was the deciding factor.”
I gripped the wheel. Sipsby.
How was I supposed to find another job if Wellington slandered me to every potential employer that called?
I’d even apprised Tripp’s boss in the interview.
Given him my side of the story, hoping he’d give me the benefit of the doubt.
If this kept up, I’d be blacklisted and have to go back to school and choose a different career path.
“Albert ‘Tripp’ Murphy says, ‘I’m sorry, man. Try Benson. Maybe their office is looking for someone.’”
But I’d already tried Benson Honnely. My best friend from UVA Law was the first person I’d contacted.
I pulled into the Seddledowne High teacher lot, parked, and hurried across the lawn.
I’d missed last week’s home game for another interview but both teams had scraped out a win.
Then I’d ridden with the girls, and Christy, on the bus to their away game.
Again, both took the win. But this was the first team dinner I’d made it to. And it was ridiculous.
Christy had told me a couple of the moms were heading things up.
I’d expected pans of box lasagnas and prebagged salad.
But when I walked up, every team member and the majority of their families were in the mostly empty student lot, tailgating.
But instead of beers, there were eight kinds of sodas.
Two massive grills were smoking as a couple of men flipped burgers and hot dogs.
And there was an entire buffet of chips, condiments, salads, and, most importantly, baked beans.
And a whole ’nother table full of cookies, brownies, and lemon bars.
Christy bounded up to me with a soft smile—making my chest tighten—and did a Vanna White flourish at the food. “Can you believe this spread?”
“Uh, no. These girls aren’t going to want to play. They’ll wanna take a nap. They shouldn’t be drinking sodas and eating cookies right before a game.”
“C’mon, you’re just hangry after your long drive.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the food. “Let’s get some food in that ripped belly of yours. We wouldn’t want our Herculean coach to be cranky when the game starts.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” She was constantly commenting on my muscles, which was hilarious.
But knowing that she was thinking about my body composition made it hard not to think about using said body to shove her against a wall and kiss her until she was gasping for air. I’d never actually do it though.
Over the top of Christy’s head, I spotted Silas and Lemon at a table full of Anna and her friends.
Silas tipped his chin up at me. Lemon, tucked possessively under his arm, offered me a finger wave and a grin.
Silas gave me a tentative thumbs up with a cocked brow and a question on his face.
He wanted to know how the interview went.
I shook my head, lips pursed, and flipped my thumb down.
His face fell and his lips twisted in empathy.
I glanced away, on high alert. No doubt, masked somewhere by this chaos, was Amber Taylor. She’d been at every game and I’d discovered she was Alyssa’s aunt. Which made me unable to enjoy the fact that Christy was gripping my arm.
My gaze skittered, searching the crowd. Sure enough, Amber was by the baked beans, ready and waiting with her gigantic serving spoon even though everyone had come through the line a while ago.
Almost like she was waiting for me and like she remembered, from when we were boyfriend and girlfriend back in seventh grade, that I loved baked beans.
And even though I was now twenty-seven, I was incapable of serving myself.
It really was a shame God had wasted such a pretty face on someone whose insides were so ugly.
Jilly Booker was next to her, serving up salads.
From what it looked like—potato, macaroni, or fruit.
Jilly grinned at Amber, her teeth almost luminescent against her dark skin.
My heart panged. I really liked Jilly. Always had.
We’d been pretty tight in high school. She was hilarious, brilliant, and a friend to everyone—most especially an underdog.
But if she was still slummin’ it with Amber, we’d never be friends again. And that was truly tragic, in my book.
I didn’t feel that I should have to fight a battle to get a helping. But I was hungry, and I wasn’t going to let the Black Plague keep me from it. I couldn’t drag Christy through a deadly pandemic to get some stupid beans though.
My amble came to a crawl, immobilized with what to do.
Christy leaned back, trying to drag me. “C’mon, Makeout Maestro. We need to get your strength up.”
My eyes shot to Silas but he was laughing at something Anna said.
Lemon was the perceptive one—her eyes jutting between me and Amber.
In less than a second, with our impressive telepathy skills and facial expressions, my sister-in-law and I came up with a plan.
She pushed back and stood. I let my feet move again but I gently shook Christy loose.
Her expression turned down, dejected and confused.
I offered her an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right there, okay? Save me a seat?” She nodded, still hurt, but turned on her heel and went. My snuggling game would need to be strong this evening.
Lemon met me by the plates. “Hey, sorry about the job. Their loss.”
I grunted and grabbed a plate and a set of plastic silverware which some mother had taken the time to roll up inside a napkin and tie with a blue and silver ribbon. Go Stallions.
Lemon picked up a plate as well. “You and Christy are getting cozy,” she said quietly as I squirted ketchup on a hamburger bun.
My eyes flashed over to see her reaction to that. Her lips were twitching like she wanted to smile. Would she be okay with it if I dated Christy? Because, if she was fine with it, she could convince Silas. Lemon could probably talk Silas into being okay with almost anything.
But then I chided myself. Silas wasn’t the reason I couldn’t date Christy. There were much bigger things at play here. The crux of which was guarding the baked beans like a Nazi SS officer.
I shrugged. “I mean, I see her pretty much every day, doing this.” I waved my free hand toward the girls. “She’s pretty cool.”
“Pretty cool?” She repeated like that was the lamest thing she’d heard today. “I think you meant to leave off the last word in that statement.”
She’s pretty.
My cheeks flared and heat spread up to the tips of my ears. I held my plate out toward the grillmaster who I recognized as Ming’s dad. With a smile, he laid a dripping patty with a slice of melty good old American cheese onto my bun.
I smiled back. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure, coach.”
It was still weird to hear people call me that. I was just a dude sitting on the side, winging it from the hip.
Lemon leaned in when I moved on. “I’m your sister now. And I owe it to Sophie to really stick it to you when it comes to women. So you may as well admit it. You’ve got a little thing for Christy, don’t you?”
I chuckled and ran a finger between my neck and the collar of my polo. Had a hot breeze blown in?
“C’mon.” She gave me an open-mouthed grin. “I promise I won’t tell Silas. Tell the truth.”
I winked at my sister-in-law. “You know me, Lem. I’ve always had a thing for pretty girls.”
She pursed her lips and scowled. “Fine. Play the emotionally stunted ladies’ man. But just know that I see right through that thinly veiled facade. And I know the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Mhm. That deep down you’re just a sweet but broken man, Holden Dupree. But I’ll get it out of you eventually. Wanna know why?”
I grabbed a handful of potato chips and plopped them on my plate, sweat beading along my hairline. “Wow. How much caffeine have you had today?” Lemon loved her coffee.
“None, but nice try at changing the subject.” She picked up a carrot stick from a metal platter. “Wanna know why?” she asked again, more forcefully this time.
I sighed. “Why?”
“Because you’re a terrible actor.” She gripped my shoulder, her expression completely devoid of any kidding.
Then she gazed straight into me until all my carefully hidden scars were laid bare.
“You forget I’ve known you your whole life.
And I’ve seen how you are when you’re in love.
It hasn’t been since Savannah, and I was starting to think it might never happen again.
” Her eyes darted over my face. “But there it is. Plain as day. Making an appearance after all these years.”
I swallowed hard, eyes on my plate, trying to breathe it out.
She squeezed my free hand. “That’s what I thought.
But don’t worry, I’ll handle Silas. I have my ways.
” She wiggled her brows just like Silas had the other night.
Then she bit off a piece of carrot. Her head tipped toward the end of the table.
“How about we get this done and get you back to your girl?”
But I couldn’t move. I just stood there, staring at my annoyingly perceptive sister-in-law, wondering if Sophie’s spirit had possessed her for a few minutes to bring me this message.
“It’s okay,” she coaxed. “You just say ‘All right, Lemon,’ and we’ll pretend we never had this conversation.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “And if you won’t be honest with me, I hope you’ll at least be honest with yourself…and in time…with her.”
I rubbed my neck still reeling that I’d been had. “I don’t…I don’t know if that’s what I want.”
She snorted. “I don’t believe that for a second.
The want is all over your face.” My cheeks were smarting.
I could feel them. She patted me on the right one.
“You’re a good guy, Holdie. Any woman would be lucky to have you.
But you need to believe it yourself.” She pressed a hand to my lower back and spurred me forward.
We stepped around the grill and I was uncomfortably aware that Amber had a clear shot of me and Lemon.
At least Lemon was safe now that she was married to Silas.
Amber wouldn’t touch that. But the skin on my left cheek felt like it was melting from her evil stare.
I hadn’t and I wouldn’t make eye contact.
But her devious glare was pulling at me like invisible tentacles, trying to make me.
I turned away and forked a tomato slice.
Lemon took that opportunity to step around me, putting a wall between us.
“You want baked beans, right?” she whispered.
I nodded.
“What about salads?”
“Potato.”
“I gotchu.” Then she slapped me on the back and gave me a little shove in the opposite direction. Back toward Christy.
“Hey, Lemon,” Jilly said. “Congrats on your marriage, girl. I always thought you two would make a cute couple.” Her voice trailed off as I escaped.
But when I got to the table, I already knew Lemon was wrong. It wasn’t safe for me to love someone again. Because there was gorgeous, petite Christy, barking out orders to the JV team with a confidence that reminded me of another woman I used to know.
A girl, really.
Beautiful, kind, and confident too.
I’d loved that girl with all my heart. And she’d loved me back with wild abandon. But when I’d tried to shake her loose, for her own good, she’d hung on even tighter. And stupid, naive, teenage Holden had thought she was right. The tighter we held to each other, the safer we would be.
But clinging had done just the opposite. And instead of saving us, the darkness had wound and tightened and choked until our light was snuffed out.
I looked back over my shoulder and just as I suspected, Amber was watching me from the food table, eyes narrowed.
No. I couldn’t do that to Christy.
I wouldn’t.