CHAPTER 8
HOLLY
Yesterday was a huge success. Not only was Ben excited about the whole reading-aloud idea, but he even commandeered the novel from me for the last hour when my voice started to dry out. Ben’s soothing tone reciting the witty lines did silly things to my chest.
I try to remember the last time I’ve laughed so much and come up with nothing.
Unfortunately, despite the innocence of the interaction, there were times when I caught myself slipping into daydreams of Ben reading to me as we lay in a bed together. Clothes might or might not have been involved in said fantasies.
Not good.
Luckily, attending rigorous classes for the rest of the day took my mind off those inappropriate musings. Along with a vigorous spin class.
But, now, the morning after, those butterflies are invading my chest again the moment his name flashes on my phone.
“Hello?”
“Holly. It’s Ben.”
And there go the shivers down my spine at the sound of my name coming from his rumbly voice.
“Hey, Ben. What’s up?”
“How do you feel about parties?”
“Birthday or drunken frat?”
His laughter drifts through the speaker, and I smile as I walk down the busy city street.
“Neither. Just your basic college house party. I agreed to go tonight, and I want company.”
“What time does it start? I have to be at work by ten for my shift.” This isn’t a good idea. I know that, even as I make plans without hesitation.
“I can work with that. What if I pick you up at seven, and we can head over? Then, I’ll drop you off at work.”
“I don’t want to make you leave your party early.”
“Believe me, when you’re the only sober one in the room, early is a perfect time to leave.”
“You sure?”
“More than sure. I demand you come with me.” The regal tone he uses makes me grin.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to go. I’ve been missing out on a lot of social opportunities because of my busy schedule, and now, my crush is asking me to attend a party with him. Ignoring the fact that I’m not supposed to have the aforementioned crush, I embrace what I want.
“Well, if you demand it, I guess I don’t have a choice. But this had better be fun!”
“Trust me; I’ll make it fun.”
Those words from his mouth sound dirty. Or my mind is making them dirty. More likely, the second of the two.
“We’ll see. I’ll text you my address.”
“See you tonight, Holly.”
The worn button next to Holly’s apartment number lets out a mechanic buzz as I press it. A moment passes.
“That you?” Even the crackling quality of the speaker can’t fully extinguish the melody that is Holly’s voice.
“Yeah.” A second later, I add, “It’s Ben,” just in case I’m not the one she’s expecting.
“Be down in a second!”
I back up, so I’m not crowding the doorway, disappointed she didn’t invite me up. I just want a glimpse into her home. To find out more about her.
Holly hasn’t been to my place yet, which I’d be happy to remedy.
We’d start with my bedroom. I can imagine escorting her in, watching her explore my private space. Maybe she’d sit at my desk, opening my laptop to see what I’d been browsing on the internet. Or maybe she’d settle on the bed, sinking slightly into the soft navy comforter. The bed is large, so there’d be plenty of room for us to lie down next to each other. We wouldn’t even have to touch.
I’d want to touch her though, run my fingers along her neck and comb them through her hair. I’d cradle her face before pulling her in for a—
“Hey ya, Ben!” Holly bursts through the entryway, shoving my risqué thoughts to the back of my mind. But they push back when I take in her appearance.
She’s wearing a green coat with golden buttons and a belt that ties at her waist. This comes to about mid-thigh, revealing her slender yet muscular legs, which travel down to a pair of black heeled boots that cover just to her ankles.
My mind, still not fully leashed in, takes a second to imagine me peeling her coat off and finding nothing underneath.
“You ready to go?” I try to use my mouth to keep my thoughts in line but no promises.
“Lead the way.”
My car is only one street over, which is good because the cool night air causes goose bumps to scatter along Holly’s exposed skin. A minute detail I try not to focus on. I hand her the keys, and once she turns on the ignition, I crank the heat up.
“Thank you,” she whispers the words.
If I can always anticipate her needs, I’ll be a happy man.
“No problem. Just head straight out of here, and I’ll let you know when to turn.”
I gesture ahead of us, and she nods. Holly driving seems natural now. Comfortable.
“Tell me more about this party.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her fidget.
Is she nervous?
“The girls who live in the house are mostly art majors, so I’m guessing that’s what the crowd will be. But Jasper should be stopping by.”
“Do you know them from class?”
“No, I’ve never gotten the chance to take an art class.”
“What?” She brings the car to a more abrupt stop than needed at a red light before turning to face me. “You’ve never taken an art class?”
“No.”
“But you’re so good!”
Uncomfortable with her praise, I instead point through the windshield. “Light’s green.”
Her eyes roll as she presses the gas pedal. “I can’t believe you haven’t taken any classes,” she mutters.
I want to correct her, to tell her about my granddad. But Holly likes asking questions, and that’s a road with a depressing end. Thankfully, she lets it go, but the new topic isn’t much better.
“So, how do you know them?”
The back of my neck itches. “I used to date one of the girls—Annabelle. Take a right here.” My tone comes out casual … I think.
The blinker flicks on, and we make a slow turn onto a busier street. Holly keeps her focus on maneuvering through traffic, nothing on her face showing any kind of reaction to my honest answer.
“Is she the one who invited you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she going to mind you showing up with another girl?”
Her question makes our outing sound like more than just two friends hanging out. More like we’re on a date.
I bite my bottom lip to keep my grin from spreading.
“Well, she and I aren’t dating anymore. So, she doesn’t get a say.” And, because it’s been pounding in the back of my brain, I ask, “What about you? Any boyfriend who’s gonna be giving me the stink eye for being your new best friend?”
Holly laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t let Terra hear you say that. She’s got the best-friend job on lock. And, no, I’m too busy for dating. Just booty calls and haven’t had one of those in a while either.”
“Sounds like I’m safe.” I attempt a lighthearted tone, even as unhappiness bleeds into my chest. No boyfriend, but also no interest in one.
How can I convince her that I’m worth the time?
We spend the rest of the ride in silence, listening to the classic rock station I favor. I hand out a direction when needed, and Holly hums along to the songs she knows.
“It’s going to be the last one up here on the left.”
The townhouse I’m so familiar with but I never thought I’d return to sits lit up just a few feet back from the sidewalk.
We have to go down another block before we can find a free space to park, but I’m glad to have the short walk together. I want to take her hand, pull her toward me so that I can wrap my arm around her waist. But that’s not how friends walk. Instead, we each keep our respective hands in our pockets. When we reach the front stoop, strains of soft jazz leak through the door. No top forty radio station for these girls.
“You ready?” My grip hesitates on the front handle as I glance back at Holly.
Part of me wants her to say no and suggest we go get dinner instead. The other part of me wants her to step forward, grab my hand, and confidently drag me into the party, as if I were hers to command.
Choosing neither of those options, Holly instead gives me a smile and a thumbs-up.
So, with a flourish, I pull the door open and grandly gesture for her to enter. As she passes, I catch a subtle honeysuckle scent drifting off her, and suddenly, I find those yellow flowers very arousing.
“You coming?”
If only, is about to slip off my tongue, but I stop myself from uttering the dirty wish and instead speak like a person who doesn’t only think about sex, “Lead the way.”
Ben keeps staring at me, and I have no idea if he’s normally so tempting or if he’s trying to have fuck me eyes.
And, now, he has me cursing! Even if it is only in my mind.
To try to clear the rising heat in my lady parts, I examine the house we’re in.
These girls have money; that’s for sure. The neighborhood’s clean sidewalks are lined with well-groomed trees, and this townhouse is spacious for someone living within city limits. Even with the rising tide of partygoers, we have no trouble moving around.
“Do you want something to drink?” Even though the room isn’t too loud, Ben leaned in close to softly ask the question near my ear. There’s a scent of mint, like he just brushed his teeth.
Dental hygiene is a total turn-on.
I wonder if he would taste minty if I were to press my lips against his, maybe dip my tongue in his mouth. With me in my heels and him leaning toward me, the destination isn’t that far away. I could slide my hands up his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck. He’d hug me to him, and as we kissed, I’d experience the warmth of his body all along mine, building enough heat until clothes wouldn’t seem necessary anymore.
“Holly?” Ben gazes down at me with curiosity.
I realize I never answered him and that my eyes have probably glazed over as I was daydreaming about mauling him with my mouth.
“Drink. Yes. I would like one.” And, now, I’m talking like Yoda.
Ben nods but doesn’t move away from me. “What were you thinking about just now?”
Shoot.
I made a big deal about honesty, and now, he’s asking for something I just can’t give him. There’s only one option, but I’m not sure it’ll get rid of the subject.
“I’d rather not say.”
A look of mild frustration crosses his face, but then he nods. “Let’s go get a drink.”
He let it go. What could have been awkward and uncomfortable just became a passing moment because Ben understood what I meant when I promised him honesty.
This guy just keeps getting more attractive. I certainly like the way he looks with his ruddy hair, easy smile, lithe and tall body with whips of muscle. He wears his clothes with precision, no wrinkles, well matched. Somehow, he makes his denim shirt look like business casual, tucked neatly into his deep gray pants.
He places his hand on my lower back and guides me through the cluster of strangers.
The kitchen is cute with white cabinets and colorful appliances. The counters are completely covered with food and what looks like the same amount of alcohol I have behind the bar at work. If I thought the artsy crowd was any less boozy than the frat crowd, I now know better.
“Don’t worry. There’s water in the fridge,” he says with utter surety.
I can’t help but note how familiar Ben seems with this place. The result is a slight twinge in my chest.
Could it be? No, please tell me I’m not … jealous.
Dagnabbit, that’s exactly it.
As Ben opens the refrigerator door, I lean back on a cabinet and try to sort through my feelings. I bring up a murky image of Annabelle in my mind, but I don’t feel any animosity toward her. So, what is it then?
Ben straightens, a water bottle in each hand and a triumphant smirk on his face.
That’s when it clarifies. I imagine him in my apartment. Right now, he’d be a stranger there, likely uncomfortable in the new setting. But I don’t want my place to be new to him. I want Ben to confidently walk through my front door and scrounge around my tiny kitchen, looking for a few drinks.
Why didn’t I invite him upstairs when he picked me up tonight?
Oh, yeah, because my vagina won’t stop insisting that I show Ben my bedroom, too.
As I watch him shut the door with his knee, a set of slim arms wraps around his waist from behind. Oddly, Ben’s face appears as shocked as mine feels as we meet eyes across the room.
Not knowing what else to do, I shrug and mouth, I don’t know who that is.
Expression still confused, he mouths back, Me either.
His lost look is so stark that I find myself giggling, hand covering my mouth, as if I can somehow hide my laughter from him. No deal. He narrows his eyes as he fights his own smile. That drops from his lips the second the girl circles around in front of him.
On her route, I catch a glimpse of a pretty face. Tan skin and angelic features with cascading waves of golden hair. She’s using a jeweled butterfly clip to hold some of it out of her eyes. I’m sure, if I stood next to her, she’d be a few inches taller than me, even with the heeled boots I have on tonight. And her statuesque, willowy figure is draped with an equally free-flowing white dress that seems like it’s constantly shifting in a subtle breeze. The whole look suggests a bohemian innocence, and I have no trouble imagining this girl painting with watercolors or displaying a piece of handcrafted pottery.
“Ben!” Even her voice is sweet and high, like the glittering chime of bells. “I didn’t think you’d make it!”
By her level of excitement at finding him here, I guess that this girl either is as infatuated with him as I’m trying not to be or she is the ex and wishes that weren’t the case.
“How’s it going, Annabelle?”
The ex it is.
This is one of those rare times when I have no idea what I should do. I tend to avoid these situations at all costs.
If I stay here, will Ben forget he brought me? If I walk over to them, will Ben be glad for the interruption or annoyed that I’m butting into their conversation?
If we’d been friends longer, I’d have a better read on him, like I do with Marcus and Terra.
I’m considering looking up the bus schedule on my phone, so I can leave and get to work early, but before I can take a step toward the door, someone calls out, “Holly!”
In a strange reflection of Ben’s experience, a strong set of arms wraps around my own waist. Luckily, I recognize the voice, so instead of stomping on his instep and turning for a swift knee to the groin, I reach behind me and give Jasper an awkward hug around the shoulders.
“Ben told me you might be here.”
When he lets me go, I turn to face him. It’s not even eight p.m., but Jasper has clearly had a few.
“Class got canceled ’cause the professor had the flu, so got my weekend started early.” He pulls a flask out of his back pocket and takes a long drag from it. “Figured I’d stop by here while you two were around and then go somewhere that actually has decent dance music.”
“You can’t dance to jazz? I’m disappointed in you, Jasper, and unimpressed.”
He responds to my joking tone with his own mock offense. “I can dance perfectly to any tune. I highly doubt any of these stuffy shirts are capable of keeping up with me.”
“Oh, really? I’ll have you know, I have seen every dance move imaginable and could certainly apply them to whatever music is available.” I’m doing my best to keep a straight face as I put Jasper in his place.
“You might be asked to prove that tonight, Miss Foster.” He presents his flask to me, likely as a peace offering, but I firmly shake my head. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to tempt you. Gotta keep that golden kidney pristine for my boy Ben.”
“She’s your donor?” The exclamation comes from Annabelle, who is no longer clutching Ben but following close behind him as he steps up to join my and Jasper’s conversation.
Ben glares at his roommate, and I wonder if he doesn’t like people knowing about his kidney stuff. But it sounded like his ex was already aware of the situation, so his scowl confuses me.
“Yes. Holly, this is Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Holly. I thought you wouldn’t mind if I invited my new friend to your party.” Ben hands me one of the water bottles, which I accept with gratitude because I really want something to do with my hands other than have them shoved in my pockets.
“No, of course not.” Her eyes run up and down my appearance.
I’m not sure what she’s looking for or even if she finds it. However, what I am sure of is that Jasper loves mischief.
“Why are you still wearing your coat, Holly? Let me help you out.” With adept fingers, Ben’s roommate unfurls the bow and undoes the buttons that keep my coat as a protective shield from the world.
Not knowing exactly what type of party this would be, I let Terra help me search through my limited wardrobe for an outfit. We settled on something that would work in dimmer lighting and where there was more of a dance vibe. And maybe, in a few hours, this party will get to that point, but right now, it’s more like a low-key get-together.
My dress will not fit in at this party.
Not that it keeps Jasper from revealing it.
With work later, I decided on black, sleeveless, and easy to move around in. The top is tight to my waist where sections of fabric have been removed on each side so as to show slices of my rib cage. Then, there’s the skirt, which flows loosely to about mid-thigh. I’m not about to dance up on a stripper pole, but it’s definitely more risqué than my normal shorts and T-shirt work uniform.
It takes a bit of juggling with my water bottle, but together, we’re able to slide off my dark green trench coat.
“I’ll go hang this up for you.” Jasper gives my exposed side a light pinch before disappearing with my jacket.
I’m left with a quiet Ben and Annabelle.
“Yeah. So, I wasn’t given a real detailed dress code. And I don’t frequent parties too often, so this is what I ended up with. I’ll make sure to keep the bending over to a minimum.”
“You look fantastic, Holly.” Ben keeps dragging his gaze over me, which results in waves of goose bumps running and skittering over the skin his eyes touch.
“Yeah. It’s a cute dress.” Annabelle surprises me with that compliment. I expected to be ignored by her. “I’m sure more people who show up will be dressed like you.”
Was that a slightly snide undertone I heard?
Best thing to do is ignore it and rock my look. I’ve never actually gotten to wear this dress before; the tags were still on it as of an hour ago. Time to make the money I spent worth it.
“I look forward to the arrival of my fellow scantily clad women.”
Ben snorts, Annabelle pouts, and I crack open my water bottle. Obviously done with the polite small-talk requirement, Annabelle turns to face Ben, completely cutting me out of their conversation circle.
“I have my new pieces hanging upstairs. Let me show you. I want to hear what you think.”
Even though she’s clearly only inviting Ben, he leans to the side, so he can include me. “Wanna check out some art, Holly?”
Honestly? No.
I’d like to be the bigger person in this situation, take a look at his ex’s work, compliment it if I like it, and simply nod politely if I don’t. But, after spending a few minutes around her, I’m good on my Annabelle quota. Maybe, to the average person, she’s genuinely pleasant, but my friendship with Ben is obviously setting off little jealousy bombs in her brain. Classic case of girl not over guy. My place in that drama is not comfortable. Instead of getting combative, I prefer to disengage.
My mouth opens before I’ve fully thought through my answer. Luckily, my savior appears.
“Sorry, you two. Holly promised to try dancing to this music with me.” Jasper grabs my hand in his and tows me to the front room where there is literally no one dancing.
When I glance over my shoulder, I find Ben watching us with a frown while Annabelle tugs on his hand and talks animatedly. I give a mental shrug and return my attention to Jasper.
Would I rather it be Ben pulling me with him, so we can dance together? Duh.
But he has no obligation to do so and the same ability as Jasper to ask me.
Just because I find myself lusting after Ben doesn’t mean I need to silently follow along behind him as he revels over his ex’s art. I am perfectly capable of having fun with other people who want to spend time with me. Ben and I are friends. Jasper and I are friends. So, I let myself relax and even let out a laugh as I’m spun in an expert move before coming to a stop in the perfect position. Our hands are clasped together while my free one rests on Jasper’s shoulder, and his grips my hip.
“Think you can keep up?”
This guy has a rogue’s smile, meant to make both girls’ and boys’ hearts swell and break. Mine remains as it is, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Try me.”