12. Olivia
Chapter 12
Olivia
I feel so lost when we are apart.
A rcher starts jumping in place and wiggles his brows. “I’m guessing you’re not staying?”
Holden shakes his head and gestures toward me. “Too high-profile without a disguise. Tell Tom I’ll catch up with him soon.”
“Will do.”
Tom? But wait what? No.
“We can’t stay and watch? Please?” I’m so disappointed, I honest-to-goodness pout.
“Not today.” His fingers tighten as if he just remembered he’s still holding my hand. “But if you really want to watch a fight, we can come back another time.”
Damien clears his throat. “You’re always welcome here and in the other clubs, Olivia. Maybe Holden can take you to Ruby Luxe next? In disguise, of course.”
Archer raises his bandaged hand to his mouth and coughs to muffle something he’s saying, still jumping around. Holden’s only reaction to Damien’s words is to tighten his grip on me even more.
The testosterone is heavy in the air, making it slightly more challenging to focus. Holden is already a lot to take in, in his custom-tailored suit. Add Damien, who exudes bad-boy vibes in his black top-to-bottom appearance, and Archer, who’s only wearing a pair of athletic shorts and a robe that barely covers his muscular chest and abs. All three are also clearly tattoo lovers, raising the attraction meter by a thousand.
I should be more nervous around these guys, but I know Holden would never put me at risk. And Archer has never been anything but friendly to me whenever I’ve seen him before.
“Five minutes,” comes from the hallway.
“Shit,” Holden mutters. “Arch, listen. O’Neal called to tell me that they had to release Adam Dwight. He had proof of the message exchanges with Olivia. I’ll forward everything O’Neal sends me. We need to figure out what’s going on. Someone is clearly trying to fuck with Olivia.”
The smiles disappear from Archer’s and Damien’s faces, immediately replaced by grim expressions. They’re these nice guys with a dark side to them.
Morally grey cinnamon rolls.
I blame this one on Evie for getting me hooked on romance novels.
Archer dips his head. “You got it. I’ll check it out as soon as I’m done.”
Holden claps his friend on the shoulder, his chest expanding on a deep inhale. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. You know I got your back.” He glances at me. “And yours too, Olivia. If someone fucks with one of us, they fuck with all of us.”
Damien thumps his chest and yells, “Hell, yes.”
This twisted display of loyalty is oddly sweet, and a small laugh slips through my lips.
All three men watch me just as the door swings open, and a tall man with a bald head points at Archer. “Out. Now.”
Archer gives us a bow and heads toward the hallway. “Go have a drink on me upstairs and relax. I’ll see you later.”
Damien gives us a salute and follows him. “What he said.”
Holden bumps fists with both of them. “Knock ’em out, Arch.”
Archer thumps his chest, and I call, “Good luck,” after him.
Archer and Damien say their goodbyes to me—Archer with his typical wink and Damien with an imaginary hat tip.
I give a tiny wave before they round the corner and are out of sight.
Holden and I stand silently for a moment. “Do you want to go home? We can tell Nisha it wasn’t a good time.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d love to go home, but it’s been a long day. A long week, actually. Going home now would mean facing what happened between Holden and me earlier, and I’m not ready for that yet.
Did it feel good to let out some of that resentment and crushing feeling of abandonment after being locked away for so long? Absolutely, yes. Do we have a ton to talk about? Undoubtedly.
But the past will still be there to relive tomorrow.
Tonight, I want to forget.
I want to pretend my life hasn’t turned into a shitshow in a matter of days.
So I shake my head. “We promised Nisha we’d have some fun and dance for some good photos, so let’s have that drink or two and do what we came here for.”
He leans down to get a better look at my eyes. “Are you sure? You say the word, and we’re out of here.”
I swallow my nerves at the close proximity.
Everything’s okay. He won’t do anything I don’t want him to do.
Maybe that’s the problem because there are many things you want him to do.
My nipples tighten.
Shit.
A strangled noise bubbles up my throat. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, let’s go back upstairs then.”
He still doesn’t seem convinced, but he does as he says, leading me back through the maze of hallways, into the elevator, and straight to our friends without saying another word.
Evie jumps out of her seat the second she sees us. “There you are. I was starting to get worried.”
“Sorry, we had to take care of something downstairs.”
Holden replies before I can, sending a meaningful glance at Phoenix, who joins us.
A waiter passes with a tray of champagne flutes, and I gesture for him to stop. His eyes widen when he sees me standing with Holden, but he quickly composes his features and gives us a polite smile.
“Miss Parker. Would you care for some champagne?”
I nod and grab two while everyone but Holden takes one as well.
The waiter tips his head and leaves.
The bubbly liquid goes smoothly down my throat, leaving a warm trail of fruity notes behind. It’s refreshing, bringing a sense of calm with it. Maybe that should alarm my inner system. Is it wise to lower my walls around Holden? I should be concerned about that, yet I don’t find it in me to care.
Holden’s eyes are on me, and once my first glass is empty, I finally give in and look at him.
His gaze is unreadable yet so intense, I need to break it somehow.
I clutch my second glass to my chest and say, “Sorry, but you should have gotten your own. I’m not sharing mine with you.”
To my surprise, he laughs. The sound is rich and warm, reminding me too much of how he once was my only friend—my best friend.
“Stop smiling. You weren’t supposed to see that.” I drop my forehead to his chest, embarrassed he walked in on me dancing.
He wraps his arms around my body and pulls me against him, rendering me immobile. “Never. You’re too cute for that.”
I pretend to fight his hold on me while secretly enjoying his closeness. He does give the best hugs. Before I met him, it had been a long time since someone had hugged me. Sometimes, a hug can fix a problem or a mood. It’s like a little touch of magic. And his hugs are extra magical.
At some point, I get worried he might think I enjoy this moment between us more than I should, so I poke his ribs where I know he’s ticklish. His laugh envelops me in a different kind of embrace, and this time, I can’t hold back my own smile.
Holden’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “You know I take what I want. No pretense.”
“No tricks,” I continue his statement, remembering it from our past.
“No lies.”
The last one is new, but I try not to show my surprise. Instead, I drain the other champagne, and put both glasses on the table. Then I grab Evie’s hand and pull her toward the balcony to dance.
There are a million questions in her eyes, but she only asks one, “What the hell is going on with you guys?”
I blow out a breath, hoping this weight on my chest will leave with it. “Nothing is going on with us. Absolutely nothing.”
In my head, the conversation continues. We’re one messed-up disarray of broken promises and bleeding hearts, and I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to find our way back to who we used to be to each other.
But I don’t want to say any of these words out loud. I don’t want to talk about them at all. I don’t want to talk about my past.
I don’t want Evie’s pity, which I’m sure is exactly what I’d be getting if I told her what happened between Holden and me or in my aunt’s community I ran away from. And I’d hate it.
Yes, I want an explanation from Holden, to know if Tom was telling the truth about Holden having some kind of family emergency, so I can get some semblance of closure. But then, I want to move on and focus on the future. On my career. My friends. I must also prepare myself for a life without Holden once this sham is over in six months.
Enough of those Debbie Downer thoughts. We’re here to forget, not to remember. To have fun.
So, I turn off my worries for the following few songs and dance with Evie. We laugh and have another drink until we head to the table for a much-needed glass of water. Before we get there, Evie excuses herself to go to the bathroom with Phoenix right on her heels.
I barrel forward, stopping short when I notice it’s not just Holden at the table but also a woman. A beautiful woman who is touching Holden’s arm and pressing her breasts against his side. She’s bouncing up and down as he smiles at her, and the adoration in her eyes could probably be seen from space.
Who the hell does she think she is?
A burning sensation in my chest halts my breath, and I feel the inexplicable need to yank this woman away from Holden. Doesn’t she know he’s married?
How is she supposed to know? He isn’t wearing a ring.
Shit.
Why did no one think about rings?
Even in my slightly intoxicated state, I realize how much of an oversight that is.
But ring or not, he’s still yours, and that lady needs to get her hands off your husband.
Once I’m just a few feet away, I say, “Hey, babe. You owe me a dance.”
Both of them and several others turn to stare at me. Did I just say that louder than I thought I did?
Crap. We need some good photos, but I wasn’t planning for every clubgoer to post about it on social media either.
Holden tilts his head to study me, pressing his lips together at whatever he sees on my face.
Why does he seem so happy?
Unable to take his intrusive gaze any longer, I look away. And straight at the woman. She’s even more striking up close, with her purple hair accentuating her green eyes, her delicate nose ring, and elegant tattoos decorating her arms.
A much better fit for Holden.
The unwanted thought slithers through my hazy brain.
It doesn’t matter.
What does matter is everyone can witness her clinging to his arm, my husband’s arm.
Holden clears his throat. “Olivia, this is Josephine. Jo, this is Olivia.”
Since we have eyes on us, I lift my hand in a small wave, trying to stay as courteous as possible, even though my hands are itching to pull her fingers off Holden. “Hey, nice to meet you.” She just continues to stare at me, so naturally, words continue to jump out of my mouth, “So, how exactly do you know my husband?”
Holden makes a sound that’s half cough, half choke. But my gaze stays on the woman. Jo. She’s still gaping at me, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly.
“Hurricane, stay right here. I’ll be right back.” Holden shifts Jo around until his arm is around her. “Jo, say bye, Olivia.”
The woman’s mouth moves, but whatever she mumbles is too low for me to hear.
They walk away, leaving me standing there wholly ruffled and slightly humiliated too. Holden walks her to the bar at the far end, handing her off to a tall, dark-haired woman. She stretches up to kiss his cheek and laughs at something he says. Is she another lover? Are these two the reason he wanted to come here tonight without me?
I’m frozen in place, watching the whole scene unfold. Has he slept with either of them? Both? Are they planning on sneaking to the back for a quick threesome?
My ribs squeeze tight at the thought. As if Holden heard my thoughts, he spins around and comes straight for me. His gaze burns me on the spot, and my heartbeat quickens. When he’s only a short distance away, I finally snap out of my stupor and scramble in the opposite direction.
A few seconds later, a hand wraps around my wrist. We’re at one of the balconies that has a view of the crowded dance floor below, and Holden tugs me until I land roughly with my back against his hard chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?”