Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
A LEVEL OF HOT I’M NOT USED TO
B riar
In the past three weeks, I’ve barely seen or talked to Holden. Not a single dinner together. Not a shared breakfast or even coffee in the morning. He’s been quiet on a group chat we have with our friend group and when we do see each other in passing at the house, we say hello. But not much more than that.
Honestly, for the most part, Holden and I have felt like two ships passing in the night. He usually gets home late from work and leaves early for the gym in the morning.
I hear his alarm go off in the morning, but by the time I’ve showered and changed, he’s long gone. If I cook dinner, I leave him a plate of food on the stove and in the morning, there is always a mug with a tea bag left out on the counter for me next to a warm kettle. And every single time I walk into the kitchen and my eyes land on the mug, I get a pang in my chest. Even with this tension between us, the energy that crackles in my veins every time I think about Holden is still there.
Holden might be confusing, but he’s sweet and has a gentle side, and no man alive has ever turned me on the way he does.
I miss his smile.
I miss being around him.
I miss being intimate with him.
Living in his house, hearing him shower, smelling the lingering scent of his aftershave—none of this is helping. It would be smart to put some real distance between us before I fall hard for Holden Banks, but I’ve spoken to my landlord about my apartment several times and it sounds like I won’t be moving in any time soon.
Not that it’s a hardship living at Holden’s place. It’s cozy and you can’t beat the location. I’ve been trying to take advantage of the proximity to the beach by going for walks before bed. Sometimes you can hear the sounds of the waves from the living room window if it’s quiet enough. But as much as I like living here, it would probably be easier on both of us if I moved out as soon as I can.
Thankfully, being back at work is providing a much-needed distraction from the mess that is my personal life. Not a lot changed in the year that I was away, so it’s been fairly easy to get back into the swing of things. There are a few new faces at the office, and I’ve become friends with a couple of them—including a guy named Wyatt, who’s around my age, single, and likes to flirt with me. I’ve toyed with the idea of going on a date with him, but every time I ask myself if I’m ready to date again, I can only see myself being with Holden.
I sigh, flopping back in my bed against the pillows that Holden bought for me. It always seems to come back to him. I miss him. Terribly. I feel like I’ve been on emotional overload the past couple of weeks, and it’s exhausting.
My phone lights up beside me with a call from Daisy, so I pick it up and swipe the screen to accept.
“Hey, Dais.”
“Hey, you free?”
“I’m in bed with Bear and we were thinking about watching Dateline .” I stroke Bear between her ears. “Isn’t that right, my pretty, perfect baby? We’re going to watch a show, just you and your momma. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
Daisy snorts. “You realize you’re talking to a cat, right? It’s weird. You definitely need to get out of the house.”
Her comment only makes me sink further into the pillows. “I really don’t. I’m too tired and I’m crampy and there’s no way I’m getting out of my sweats. You can come over here, if you want.”
“Come on, Briar. You need to leave the house. Let’s find you a guy.”
“No.”
“How come?”
“I don’t want to find a guy.”
I want Holden.
“It’s time. Let’s go, it will be fun.”
I know Daisy’s heart is in the right place, but I really do not feel like going out tonight— I’m tired, I’m emotional, I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of getting my period. I’d rather stay in bed with a slice of chocolate cake and a good book. But not a romance book, I’ve given those up. Right now, I want to read about a murder —the more murdery the better —because reading a swoony love story would just make me think about Holden even more.
“Okay, you win,” Daisy relents. “I’m coming over.”
Thirty minutes later, the two of us are sitting on Holden’s couch with a Tupperware full of her to-die-for chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of wine. Daisy is filling me in on the drama between the doctor and one of the other receptionists, Hazel, at the clinic she works at.
“She realizes that it is highly unprofessional to be shoving her tongue down her boss’ throat at work, right?” I ask through a bite of cookie.
Daisy sighs heavily. “I don’t think she cares.”
Daisy tops off her glass from the bottle, then holds it up to me. “You sure you’re good with tea?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, legs criss-crossed on the couch with a hot mug of camomile in my hands, wishing I didn’t feel so crampy. “So, Hazel had a little naughty time with Doctor Dick.”
She rolls her eyes. “You sound like my husband.”
I smirk. Daisy’s boss is Doctor Scott Dickens and when Tucker found out Daisy went on one date with him ages ago, he came up with the nickname, Doctor Dick. Daisy hates it. To be fair, I’ve met Scott a couple of times and he seems like a nice enough guy. Unfortunately for him, the nickname has stuck.
“I bet Doctor Dick lives up to the nickname.”
“Eww, Briar, that’s gross.”
The shock in Daisy’s eyes makes me laugh. Daisy is truly one of the kindest, sweetest people in the world, but it’s fun to push her buttons. “It’s always the quiet ones who turn out to be a freak in the sheets. Maybe Hazel has a naughty side.”
“Are you high?”
“I might be,” I say, then stifle a yawn. “Sorry.”
“Why are you so tired?”
“I’m not.”
“The hell you’re not. You haven’t stopped yawning since I got here. Were you up late with Holden last night?”
“What? No.”
I haven’t even told Daisy about the night Holden and I spent together. Our incredible, unforgettable night. And then the next morning, when we woke up and everything changed. Sometimes I wonder if that night meant nothing to Holden, if I could have misread it that badly. But then I remind myself that he broke his year-long vow of celibacy, and he also came three times inside of me. I wasn’t imaging that.
“What is going on with you two? Is he still acting weird?”
I’ve never been good at not being real with Daisy. We tell each other everything. For weeks I’ve kept this to myself, and I feel like I’m going to combust.
“I slept with Holden,” I admit, squeezing my eyes shut, afraid of what she’s going to say.
Her hand playfully nudges my shoulder. “’You slept with Holden?”
“I did. I know I shouldn’t have. I had a moment of weakness. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight.”
She sets her wine glass on the table. “I need to know more. Tell me everything.”
So, I do. I tell her how we shared a bed for a week while we waited for furniture to arrive for my bedroom. How he caged me in between his thighs in the kitchen before he took me to his room, where we had sex. Then, I tell her about the morning after when we agreed it couldn’t happen again.
Daisy cocks her head at me. “From what you just told me, you and Holden did not agree that it couldn’t happen again. You told him it couldn’t happen again. There’s a difference, Bri. It sounds like he didn’t agree to anything.”
Could Daisy be right? I mean, I thought at the time we both agreed, but now that I think about it, maybe that’s not actually what happened. Is that why he won’t talk to me? He feels rejected. Like I only wanted him for one night of sex .
I fall back into the couch cushions. I feel bad, worried that I hurt him. “Oh god. You’re right, maybe that’s why he’s avoiding me.”
“But you like him?”
“Sorta.”
“You like him,” she teases. “So, how was the sex?”
“So good.” The words fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to realize what I’m admitting to. My eyes go wide as Daisy laughs at me.
“Okay, so if you like him and the sex was good, then why can’t it happen again?”
“We’re at totally different places, Dais. Holden doesn’t want a relationship, and I don’t want to just sleep with a guy. I want to get serious with someone. I want a home, kids, all of it. Holden told me he doesn’t want a family at all,” I tell her.
“He told you he doesn’t want to have children? Like, ever?” she asks, eyebrows raised.
I nod. “Holden is sweet and thoughtful and he’s always thinking about me, doing nice things. Daisy, he makes me a cup of my favorite tea every morning and every night before I go to bed. He’s funny and smart too, and he’s nothing like… him. I trust him. But as much as I like him, we just want different things. And I am not looking to get into another relationship that goes nowhere.”
She smiles sympathetically. “I’m going to be honest with you, like I always am. You did the right thing by telling him you couldn’t sleep with him again. It was smart to end things before they began if you’re not on the same page. I know it sucks, babe, but it’s better this way before you get too attached.”
She’s right. There’s no possibility of a future with Holden. We weren’t meant to be .
“I’m sorry, Briar.” She squeezes my thigh. “There’s a great guy out there for you, I promise, but you’re not going to find him on the couch, wearing that,” she side-eyes my sweats, “and eating chocolate chip cookies with me.”
I burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. Next time, we’ll go out.”
“I like that idea. You can wear your new fur coat with a sexy pair of heels. The guys won’t know what’s coming.”
Daisy sticks around for another hour or so, and by the time I hug her goodbye and close the door behind her, I barely have the energy to wash my face or change into my pajamas before crashing into bed and falling asleep in seconds.
The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is expel everything in my stomach, bent over the toilet bowl. I crawl back into bed and try to sleep it off. I’ll be over it by lunch.
When I wake up a few hours later, I’m feeling much better, but I do feel a sense of guilt for sleeping away a beautiful, sunny morning. I plan on a walk along the beach to try to salvage what’s left of the day.
I can hear Holden in the kitchen but decide to wait until I hear him leave the house before coming out of my bedroom. I groan in frustration when I see the mug with the tea bag on the counter. I had planned on talking to him today, to try to clear the air, but I wasn’t feeling up to it. First, a bit of food and some fresh air. Then I can figure out what I want to say to him.
How can I fix this? How can I get us back to the way things were before we had sex ?
It doesn’t take me long to walk to White Harbor beach, and once I make it a little further down the boardwalk, I head straight to a food truck and order myself three tacos. Then I find a seat at a bench in the shade to eat my lunch.
The beach is busy with people, the air infused with salt and suntan lotion. It smells like the ocean. It smells like home.
After I inhale the tacos, I walk towards the grocery store to get a few things: chicken, asparagus, lettuce for a salad, bread for the morning. The strawberries look too good to pass up, so I throw a clamshell in my cart too. I wander through aisles, one by one, grabbing things from the shelves. When I pass the bakery, my eyes catch on an apple pie that I bet Holden would love, so I grab one of those and then a pint of vanilla ice cream to go with it.
By the time I get to the cashier, my cart is full. It’s only after a woman with light mauve hair and a name tag that reads “Carla” bags my groceries that I remember I walked here and now I have to carry the six plastic bags home.
I consider booking an Uber to come pick me up but decide I can handle it. I head outside, juggling the heavy bags on both arms, the sun even brighter than when I got to the store.
I walk as far as the beach boardwalk when a wave of nausea rolls through my stomach. I set the bags down on a nearby bench, my skin erupting in a cold sweat. I feel awful. I thought I was better after that big sleep, but now I’m achy, exhausted, and sick to my stomach.
The smart thing to do would be to sit in the shade and rest for a few minutes, but all I want to do is get home and get into bed. So, I gather the bags back off the bench and start for home.
I just need to sleep. Charlotte at work had the flu last week, I must have caught it from her.
I’m walking as quickly as I can along the crowded boardwalk, which isn’t quick at all, when I feel lightheaded and my vision blurs. The next thing I know, I feel someone knock my shoulder—hard—and one of the bags around my forearm slides to the pavement.
Oof. I crouch down to pick up a few of the groceries that have tumbled out of the bag. A woman kneels down to help me as my stomach turns and bile inches up my throat.
“You okay, honey?” she asks, handing me an orange.
“Thank you, I’m okay,” I reply, reaching for a yellow pepper on the pavement. “I appreciate the help—”
“Briar?”
My heart stops beating in my chest because I know that voice. I hear it in my dreams at night.
“Briar,” Holden repeats when I don’t respond the first time. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”
He’s kneeling down beside me, a hand on my arm. “Holden. It’s fine. I’m okay.” I struggle to slip the bags back onto my forearms.
I look at Holden for the first time, and it makes me even more lightheaded. He’s shirtless, with a sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. His brown hair is damp with sweat and when his deep green eyes meet mine, I see the concern on his face.
He shakes his head. “I’ve got this, Briar.”
“I can handle it.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, but when I’m around, you don’t have to.”
He takes the bags from me as my stomach flips and flops. I’m not sure if it’s from the flu or from Holden being commanding and protective over me. This version of him is a level of hot I’m not used to .
“What were you doing anyways? Why didn’t you call me? I would have picked you up.”
“I, um…” I swallow, feeling completely off-balance. I am hot and sticky and sick, and this is the first time I’ve talked to Holden in weeks. “I wasn’t expecting on buying the whole store. I guess I got carried away. Sorry to ruin your run.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
God. This is humiliating. All of it. My hair needs to be washed, I’m not wearing a stitch of makeup, I swear I must look green, and let’s not forget that he found me picking up groceries off the ground in the middle of the busiest beach in Reed Point. I’m a gigantic mess.
The warm Reed Point breeze hits me almost as soon as we start walking home. I close my eyes hoping the nausea will pass but it only makes it worse. By the time we finally make it back to Haven Harbor, I’m feeling even worse.
I make it to the kitchen, where I immediately start to put away the groceries. I can feel Holden studying me. He must notice that I’m about three seconds from getting physically ill.
“Briar, you look pale. Are you feeling okay?” His expression and the tone of his voice has softened.
“Not really. I think I have the flu.”
Before I even know what is happening, Holden is beside me, one hand on my forehead, the other on the back of my neck. “I think your temperature is okay, but you’re getting into bed. You’re sick, Bee. You need to rest.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and then guides me down the hall and up the few stairs to my bedroom. I stand beside the bed, shivering, as he pulls the duvet back and then gently motions me into bed and pulls the cover up over me .
“I’ll be right back,” he says, turning and leaving me in the room by myself.
When he returns in a few minutes, he has a wet cloth in his hand that he places on my forehead.
“Thank you. That actually feels good.”
“You’re welcome. What have you eaten today?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I can feed you, Bee. It’s not a hardship.” He picks up a pillow from the other side of the bed and shoves it behind my back, making me extra comfortable. In a daze, I notice Bear has jumped up on the bed and nuzzled herself next to my feet.
“I had tacos at the beach. I’m not hungry, but thank you,” I sigh. I have absolutely no energy left in me to banter with him, which disappoints me. “I need to just sleep off whatever virus I picked up.”
“You need to at least drink something and stay hydrated. Fluids will help you feel better faster,” he says before disappearing from the room again.
I close my eyes when the room goes quiet, wishing I wasn’t feeling this way. I only open them when I feel a warm hand run softly over the apple of my cheek.
There’s a beat of silence. For the first time in weeks, a smile tips the edges of his lips. He removes his hand from my cheek, and I want to ask him to put it back. Instead, he glances at something on the nightstand. “Here, I brought you orange juice, and ice water. I wasn’t sure which one you’d prefer.”
My heart flutters in my chest at the way he’s looking at me— I can see the care and concern shining in his eyes.
“You should sleep.”
“I’m not sure I can. I slept all morning.”
He adjusts the towel on my forehead before he walks across the room to the dresser and grabs my laptop. He brings it over, fluffing the pillows against the headboard and then climbing on top of the duvet. The mattress dips with the weight of his 6-foot-one frame.
“What are you doing, Holden? I don’t want you to get sick. Trust me, you don’t want to feel like this.”
“I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine.”
“What about Bear? You can’t be in here.”
“Briar, I’ll be fine. I took an allergy pill a second ago.” Holden’s eyes flick to my cat. “Why did you call her Bear, anyway? It’s kind of a weird name for a cat.”
I laugh. “The day I got her, a friend came over to visit and brought her dog, which is big, a cross between a Lab and a Bernese Mountain Dog. I was trying to get Bear back in her carrier because I didn’t want her to get scared, but she hid under the couch. A while later, me and my friend were having coffee at the kitchen table and the cat comes crawling out from under the couch, walks straight up to the dog and swats it on the nose with her paw. That’s when I decided on Bear. She’s cute, but she’s tough—or at least she thinks she is.”
Holden smiles, looking impressed. “Note to self: don’t mess with Bear.”
“Not if you value your life,” I grin.
Holden opens the screen on the computer. “I’ll watch a movie with you, then I’ll make you some soup.”
I glance over at him as he scrolls through Netflix looking for a movie. I can smell the scent of pine and man and everything that is Holden, and even though I know I’m fighting off something, I instantly feel so much better having him here next to me. It’s feels nice to have him so close to me again .
“Holden, I mean this in the nicest way, but… you know how to make soup?”
“I wasn’t going to make it from scratch, but I know how to open a can and heat it up.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. “Canned soup is just fine by me.”
He grins at me, and when it fades there’s a resounding apology in his big green eyes, for everything that’s happened between us over the last few weeks. Holden is a man of few words, and I’ve come to learn that he is very intentional with the way he looks at me. I want to offer him an explanation, and to ask him questions, but I don’t have the energy today. He returns his attention to the computer on his lap, and I feel my heart beat a little faster in my chest. Holden is so good at not making me feel guilty for being taken care of. He never makes me feel like I am too much. I’ve been myself with him since the day I moved in, and he accepts me exactly the way I am. Even the crazy parts.
I watch him from the corner of my eye only to wonder how long this unspoken truce between us will last. Instead of worrying about what will happen tomorrow or whether we’ll continue to be on good terms, I’m choosing to simply enjoy it while it’s here.
He presses play on the movie then props the laptop on top of a pillow before stretching out beside me, his muscular arms propped behind his head.
The movie starts. He chose Love Actually . I swoon at the realization that he chose a romance for me.
I fight the urge to grin from being so damn happy. It also feels so good to have Holden in bed next to me again. I lean into the pillows to enjoy the movie with a hand on my stomach to settle the queasiness.