Chapter Twenty-Four. Holden
TWENTY-FOUR
Holden
I almost told her.
I almost told her the entire truth about you, Mason, and why I’m here in Westmore. About my reasons and the one single act that has motivated me my entire life since you were taken from me.
I almost told her, and that’s why I know I’m too fucking close.
The goddamn woman has me bending rules in ways I never intended to. A co-CEO position? Giving 1 percent away? Bringing her to where Mason’s buried—to where I can stare at his gravesite?
This isn’t right. It’s fucked up beyond all reason. But as I scrub a hand over my jaw, I have no choice but to admit, she’s gotten to me.
And it’s more than just the sex. It’s the moments like this. I look over to the passenger seat where she’s sound asleep beside me and something inside me stirs that I never knew existed. Compassion.
I’m not happy about it. I wish it’d stop. But Rowan keeps bringing it out of me and … it makes me feel good. Happy. Human.
Pretty fucked up when my entire reason for being here is to ruin her family and yet, it’s there and won’t go away.
“Holden?” she murmurs and my chest constricts. I look over at her again. The pink dress rides high on her thighs, her fingers are still linked with mine, and Clayton’s music is on the speakers.
I’m still not a fan, but I am a tad more tolerant of it now.
“Shh. We’re home.”
“That’s nice,” she says dreamily.
Within minutes, I’ve picked her up out of the passenger seat and carried her inside.
It’s when I go to lay her on her bed, her hands still around my neck and my arms still under her knees, that she pulls me closer.
“No. Don’t go,” she says dreamily into the curve of my neck so that the heat of her breath warms my skin. “Stay with me tonight.”
This wasn’t the plan—this isn’t the plan—especially after how I was so tempted an hour ago to tell her everything.
But why? So she knows what side she’s on? So I know what side she chooses? Isn’t her being in this seat enough of an answer to what side she would choose?
It’s not like it matters though. It’s not going to change the end result. My game plan isn’t changing.
Her hair tickles my cheek and the scent of her shampoo fills my nose, but it’s that damn warmth that spreads through me, knowing she wants me here, that does me in.
That makes my resolve cave.
“Sure. I’ll stay.”
Until she falls asleep.
Just so she’s not alone.
At least that’s what I tell myself as I slip my shoes off and crawl into her bed beside her. She curls into me instantly with her hand resting over my heart, her lips pressed against the underside of my jaw, and her leg hooked over my thigh.
“Good night,” she whispers.
“Good night, Sunshine.”
“Maybe you’ll go with me to visit Cassie sometime.”
Yes. The word is on the tip of my tongue but I pull it back before I make a promise like that. Lies are easy. You say them. You pretend you’re going to do them. You fuck everything up before you have to deliver on them.
But I won’t lie about this. Not when I know the heartache. Not when I understand the guilt. And especially not when I know the pain of losing your sibling.
There are a lot of fucking lines I’ll cross—but that’s not one.
“Go to sleep, Row.” I press a kiss to the top of her head and leave my lips there as I breathe everything about her in.
Keep playing the game, Knight.
Keep playing the fucking game like your life depends on it.
Because your brother’s did.