Chapter 7 Hollis #2
“And your confidence is admirable.”
We watch each other like two gamblers in Vegas—both of us waiting for the other to fold.
This is a side of her that I didn’t expect. It’s a whole lot sexy, and a little badass, and I could really, really get into it.
But I won’t.
“I think the logical thing for us to do is to establish some boundaries for this relationship pact,” she says. “I mean, if you’re still considering this whole thing.”
I rub a hand down the side of my face. “What kind of boundaries?”
“Well, our interaction and relationship—both in reality and the one we are putting on for everyone else—is rooted in friendship. We might be acting like a couple but not a couple-couple. Not all over each other,” she says. “More like friends that might be trying something new.”
I get what she’s saying. It makes a lot of sense.
“Can we fuck and still be friends, though?” I ask.
She’s not sure if I’m teasing or not.
Her eyes shoot to the ceiling, her little rosebud of a pout parting and gasping for a quick breath of air.
I’m not kidding. I’d love to break her down and have her reeling from it for days. But that’s not what we’re doing here, and it’s probably for the best. I’m not sure she’s used to that sort of thing, and I’m definitely not a guy like she’s used to.
Case in point: Sebastian.
“I’m just kidding,” I tell her. “I don’t think you can handle me.”
She sighs, knocking a strand of hair out of her face. “You’re an asshole.”
I shrug.
She sits up and takes a drink of her tea. When she looks at me again, she’s composed.
“If I do start to fall in love with that wicked charm of yours, all I’ll have to do is remember this conversation, and I’m sure I’ll be able to deal,” she says.
“Yeah, well, women usually take it as a challenge.”
“Not me. I’m challenged out. Just looking for the easy road from here on out.” She pulls her purse onto her lap and sorts through it. “What will your dinner thing require? A dress? Casual? A bottle of wine?”
“Casual. I think. He said pizza.”
She looks up. “Pizza is good.”
“Pizza is great.”
She nods and takes her hand out of her purse. “Okay. For my thing, you’d need a suit and tie. Would that be a problem?”
“Nope. I have one with me for the event I’m here for to start with.”
“Can you make small talk?” she asks.
“I’m making small talk now, aren’t I?”
“Good point.”
She puts her purse back on the chair and focuses solely on me once again.
The need to move, to burn off excess energy comes rushing back again. My leg bounces up and down as I wait for her to figure out what she wants to do.
Because I know what I want to do.
I want to make this deal.
It’ll help me out of a bind. Fortunately, it’ll help her too.
And the fact I’ll get to hang out with her and watch her laugh and banter back and forth isn’t that bad either.
She wrinkles her nose. “So do we have a deal?”
“I’m in if you are.”
She shoves her hand across the table. I take it in mine.
Her skin is as soft as I remember, and her perfume brings me right back to the sea. Feeling the warmth in her palm and the sturdiness in the weight of her hand causes my leg to stop hopping around under the table.
We shake gently, easily, our eyes glued together.
She slips her hand from mine entirely before I’m ready, which is weird because I don’t do the hand-holding thing.
I mean, I’ve done it. Sometimes you have to in order to keep the peace.
But it’s never once been something I wanted or enjoyed.
It feels intimate—like parents and their kids or girlfriends and boyfriends—and when have I ever had that?
Never. And despite what Lincoln said earlier, it’s not something I’ll probably ever have. That shit makes me uncomfortable.
Still, I miss the stillness from Larissa’s touch, and that throws me a bit.
“Guess we have a deal then,” she says softly, her eyes finding mine.
She has beautiful eyes.
“I can pick you up tonight around six thirty. I drove here from school, so I have my car.”
“Great. I’ll text you my address.”
A smile ghosts her lips as she gets to her feet. I stand, too.
My heartbeat thumps away as I watch her. She takes her purse in her hand and smooths her shirt down with the other.
I want to follow the movement and take in the beauty of her body, but I can’t look away from her face.
I wish I could ask her to stand still, to never leave that spot just so I could stay right here and feel this … balance. This calm before what I’m afraid might be a storm because there’s always a storm brewing. It’s a fact of life.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she says.
“Six thirty.”
She grins. “I’ll grab a bottle of wine. Don’t worry about that.”
“I wasn’t.” I hadn’t even thought about bringing something to dinner.
“I saw the panic in your eyes when I mentioned it before. But don’t worry—I have many, many extra bottles at home that will work.”
“Well, if you insist …”
She laughs as she turns on her heel and walks away.
I stand beside the table and watch her, wondering what just happened here. She’s a chance encounter. Temporary. The perfect solution to an imperfect situation.
Yet … there was a vibe between us. Our energies fell in-sync so easily that being around her feels like being around one of my guy friends. It’s easy. It’s fun.
Except that I wouldn’t mind fucking her.
I shake my head. You’re here for a few days, Hudson. Then Savannah is in your rearview, like so many people and places before Larissa.
So many people.
I heave a breath and find a smile spreading across my cheeks.
Maybe so, but I’ll get this girl for two nights. And that’s better than what I usually get—nothing.