Chapter 10
ten
CHRISTY
It was my fault and mine alone. I knew that.
I was the one who’d conned The Kissing Bandit into being my fake boyfriend.
And I was the one who’d pushed for more intense snuggling.
I wasn’t even waiting for my family to ask anymore.
I was just making stuff up, cuddling for hours, hands all over each other all willy-nilly like there were no consequences whatsoever.
And now the consequences were here.
I sat at the table, watching Holden go through the food line, chatting it up with Lemon after he’d shaken me off like a spiderweb he’d stumbled into. What did I expect?
It was just like the old scorpion and fox story.
The fox knows what the scorpion is but gets talked into letting him ride on his back across the lake anyway.
And when the scorpion stings him, the fox has the audacity to be shocked.
But the scorpion says, “You knew what I was when you let me on your back.”
Yeah. That.
I’d begged Holden to take the ride. So why was I sitting there blinking back tears?
Because I’d let myself get attached, that’s why. I should’ve known better. Holden might have the kind of personality where he could get cozy with a woman night after night and it meant nothing, but I, Christianna Juliet Thornbury, was not built that way.
No, I got tangled up hard. It had only happened twice before. But it was always a painful mess to cut myself out of. And this one felt worse than the other two combined. That’s what happens when the chemistry is red-hot, I guess.
Then again, was there a woman on earth Holden didn’t have chemistry with? He probably had chemistry with a rock. I swear I’d heard a ninety-year-old grandma sigh at our last away game when he walked by.
An embarrassing sob choked in my throat and I cut it off. I was not crying about this man right here in the middle of our team dinner. What was wrong with me? I didn’t cry about men unless I was in love with them. And yet here I was, fighting back the tears.
Wait a minute…
No.
No, no, no.
Was I in love with Holden Dupree?
The realization was a blow to the chest, causing another silent sob to erupt in my trachea.
But even more painful was the fact that he did not love me back.
I glanced at the tall, dark-haired cowboy at the next table over, hardly remembering any of the feelings I’d had for him.
Silas who? If they hadn’t shared the same last name, I might’ve forgotten Silas’s altogether.
All I could focus on was the jagged, breath-sucking ache in the middle of my chest for the blond hottie who consumed my evenings, and once he was gone, consumed my every thought.
Pfft. Lying on my couch alone thinking about someone who wasn’t thinking about me.
I was pathetic.
It ended here.
Holden sauntered up, holding his plate, looking a little sick. Probably because he’d realized how embarrassingly attached to him I’d become.
I stood. “JV, time to clean up. Throw your stuff away and go get dressed. Warm-ups start in twenty minutes.” I picked up my plate, about to walk away, when he had the nerve to put a strong hand on my forearm, sending tingles across my skin.
“Where are you going? I thought you were going to hang with me while I ate. Discuss game strategy?”
I chewed my lip, eyes on the table. “No. I’ve got some stuff to do before the other team shows up.”
He stepped in closer. “Christy,” he said in that low, husky tone that made my heart purr. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I’m just worried that the girls might suspect something is going on between us.”
I dared to meet his gaze. It was soft and apologetic, his light brown eyes warm and pleading. And I felt like a fool. Because he was exactly right. Of course, he was. I couldn’t be hanging on him, and teasing and calling him names in front of the girls. What was wrong with me?
“Sit with me?” Still in that ultra sexy voice that made me feel like I was the most important person in the world right then.
I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” Gah. I was such a sucker.
Fine. Maybe he wasn’t the jerkface I’d just made him out to be in my head.
But facts were facts. He was a satisfied bachelor with no plans of ever changing.
If I didn’t want this to go any deeper I had to put a death grip on my stupid, out-of-control heart.
“There you go.” Lemon slid a plate of baked beans and potato salad across the table to Holden. Huh? He had room on his own plate. Why hadn’t he gotten them himself? But that wasn’t the real noggin-scratcher. The real conundrum was Lemon lowering herself to a seat across from us.
She glanced at Silas until she got his attention—which took less than two seconds because he was pretty much honed into her at all times—and curled a finger, beckoning him over. He scowled but hopped to attention, almost tripping over his feet to get to her.
I glanced at Holden, whose mouth was parted, gaze narrowed at Lemon. Okay. So he thought this was as awkward as I did.
Lemon looked right at me, bright-eyed, like we’d never been in love with the same man at all. “Hey, so Holden says your favorite show is The Office. I’ve been trying to get Silas to watch it but he won’t. Maybe you can help me convince him.”
I wanted to tell her I’d tried to convince him, many times, but I was under no disillusions. This was not a powwow we were having. We were not besties. We would not be comparing notes. And nobody at this table wanted the discomfort of associating the past with the present.
Silas looked at her, puzzled, and almost put an arm around her shoulder before thinking better of it. Then he sat up, put on his Perfect Husband hat, and said, “It’s so awkward. I don’t know how y’all can stand it. Michael Scott is so…cringy.”
Holden chuckled and leaned his hand across the table to Silas. “Hand it over, dingus.”
Silas picked up my used knife and stabbed at Holden’s hand. “Get back, noob.”
But Holden was too fast. He snorted. “Sorry, fartknocker. You can’t use the word cringy and keep your man card. It’s mine now.”
“Shut it, ignoramus,” Silas said. “I’m living with two females. They’re rubbing off. You get what you get.”
I didn’t even realize I was laughing until Lemon smiled at me like she couldn’t be prouder that two grown men were neck-deep in a name-calling contest.
Just then Ming ran over, squealing, Alyssa and Jasmine right behind her. Still standing, she leaned her elbows on the table next to Holden, a phone in her hands. “Is this really you? Alyssa swears this is you.”
My stomach twisted in a knot before I could even see what they were looking at. I already knew. It was one of his stupid social media accounts displaying him with his harem of women.
His face was sheet white. “Uh, how’d you get on there? My account is private.” At least he had the decency to feel bad about it, I guess.
She waved him off as the others giggled behind their fists. “We’re logged in using Anna’s account.”
“Excuse me, what?” Silas said in a rough, gravelly voice. “Ming, don’t do that.” His tone was scary. “Log out of that right now.”
“Mr. Dupree is Anna’s dad, remember?” Jasmine hissed and grabbed her phone from Ming’s hands.
“Uncle,” Silas growled, to let them know he’d heard.
Lemon bobbed her head. “Dad-Uncle. Duncle.” She was trying to diffuse a very tense situation. “But yeah.”
Alyssa let a swear word slip.
“No ma’am,” I barked. “Would you like to sit out the first set?”
“Sorry.” She slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes went repentant toward Holden. “Sorry, Coach Dupree.”
Holden’s cheeks were bubblegum pink and I thought he might vomit. It seemed a bit extreme, even for the current situation. And if he didn’t want people seeing all those pictures, why even have social media? Or, you know, take them down.
“But like, that is your account, right?” Ming pushed.
I threw my hands up. “You three are in charge of chairs. Put them away. Now.”
“Geez. Okay, okay,” Ming whispered as they slowly walked away.
“But did you see how many women?” Alyssa giggled. “Hold ’em, Holden.”
“No. Mr. Mono.” Jasmine snapped her fingers. “Or Captain Kiss.”
My jaw tensed. “Girls.”
“We’re going,” Jasmine waved.
My fists balled. “Not fast enough.”
“I mean, he’s hot. I’d make out with him. Any night of the week.” I’m not sure which one of them said that, but it was the final straw. I was an idiot to like someone like him. If it hadn’t been clear before today it was glaringly obvious now.
Their whispering faded as they hurried faster. The four of us sat there, painfully silent for two heartbeats.
“Welp.” I stood. “I’m going to head inside.”
“Christy,” Holden said in that stupid voice, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even look at him. “Hey.”
“This has been…” I shook my head, avoiding eye contact with all of them. “Just…yeah.” I turned on my heel and hoofed it out of there.
Good grief, girl. I guess if you’re going to get yourself a fake boyfriend, make sure he’s not someone you could fall in love with. But if you can’t even be that smart, at least make sure he’s not Sir Snogsalot.
Eyes burning, I jogged across the parking lot.
I threw the door open and stepped inside.
JV already had the net up. A handful of girls were still braiding each other’s hair.
But two-thirds of the team were practicing their serves.
I turned when I realized the door never shut behind me.
But Lemon was standing there, bright red hair backlit by the sun, chest lifting and falling, looking like a supermodel all flushed and serious. She must’ve run to catch me.
“Christy.” She stared at me, trying to catch her breath.
Why did everyone keep saying my name as if it had some magical power to fix all things? Clearly, Christy Thornbury was completely unmagical.
Lemon grabbed my elbow and pulled me off the court. Then she sat and patted a spot next to her on the bleachers. Okay, maybe she did want to be besties?
She sighed. “Look, I know we’re not friends. And unlikely allies at best. But there’s something you need to know about Holden.”
I blinked, dreading whatever was coming. It couldn’t be good. Maybe she’d tell me he was gay. Or a eunuch. Or the world’s first believable AI robot. But there was no way the woman who was now married to my ex would be here on a peace mission. It didn’t make any sense.
She turned to face me. “It’s not my place to tell you Holden’s story. And I think he’d be upset if I did. But you need to know that he’s been through some hard stuff. Like really hard.”
She paused, gauging my reaction. I sat up a little straighter. My eyes had finally stopped stinging. I nodded so she’d at least know I was listening.
“Something…tragic…happened in high school and it broke him. For a long time, we weren’t sure if he was going to be okay.
But eventually, he pulled through.” There was a look of awe in her eyes.
“He’s one of the most resilient people I know.
He’s like Sophie in that way.” She chewed her lip for a second.
“I guess what I’m saying is…Holden might date a lot of women, but he’s not incapable of loving someone.
On the contrary, he loves deeply. And I don’t think he likes all the dating, actually.
It’s like that one saying—there’s a God-sized hole in every man’s soul? ”
I shook my head. I’d never heard that or anything like it. And why had she suddenly brought God into it?
“Well, there’s a soulmate-sized hole in Holden’s soul and he’s trying to fill it. He’s just going about it the wrong way. I’m not sure he even knows that’s what he’s doing. But it is.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I shook my head, mind reeling. Because this did, in fact, feel like a peace mission after all.
“Just…be patient. It might take him a little time. But he’ll be worth the wait. I promise.” Then she patted my hand, stood, and walked back out through the doors.
Wow.
Lemon, someone I’d viewed as my archnemesis, had just pep-talked me into not giving up on her brother-in-law. Romantically. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it.
My hands pressed against my cheeks. Staggered, I dared to hope that she knew her brother-in-law as well as she thought she did. Because, apparently, my busted, sputtering heart was resting right in the middle of his strong, capable hands.
And the only way I was making it out alive was if I took it back.
As much as I hated to do it, the way was clear.
It was time to break up with my fake boyfriend.