Chapter 14
Fourteen
HOLLY
Brother’s Intervention
I was standing in my childhood bedroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror that had witnessed approximately a thousand teenage outfit crises, trying to decide if the black top and pink polka dot skirt I was wearing sent the right message for tomorrow’s vendor meeting.
The right message being that I’m a competent festival coordinator rather than a woman who spent twenty minutes choosing an outfit because she wanted to look good for her co-chair.
The top fit perfectly, and the skirt was cute. I looked good. I knew I looked good. I’d always known I looked good, even when certain people in my life had tried to convince me otherwise.
The problem wasn’t my appearance. The problem was that I kept choosing outfits based on how I thought Declan would react to them, which was precisely the kind of behavior that had led me to make terrible decisions about Derek.
I stripped off immediately when that thought sank into my soul and chipped another piece of it away.
My phone rang, interrupting my internal meltdown.
“Holly!” Matt’s voice was bright with the kind of forced cheer that meant he was calling to deliver news he knew I wouldn’t want to hear. “How’s the festival planning going?”
“You are an ass for dumping me with this. When are you coming home?” I demanded.
“Soon,” he said coyly. Too fucking coyly. “How’s it going?”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to let me wiggle out of this one.
“It’s going well,” I said, settling onto my bed and trying not to think about how Declan had looked at me earlier when we were crawling around behind Christmas decorations.
“We’ve got most of the logistics figured out, vendor confirmations are coming in, and we solved a major electrical crisis today. ”
“We?”
There was something pointed in the way Matt said it, like he was fishing for information about my collaboration with his best friend.
“Declan and I,” I said carefully. “Remember? The other one you volunteered without asking either of us first?”
“Right, about that,” Matt said with the sheepish tone that confirmed my suspicion that this phone call had an agenda. “I wanted to check in and make sure everything’s working out okay. You two getting along all right?”
Getting along. As if the problem was compatibility rather than the fact that I was developing increasingly inappropriate feelings for someone who was supposed to be helping me organize a community festival, who was my older brother’s best friend and who lives hundreds of miles away from both Everdale Falls and Chicago.
“We’re getting along fine,” I said, which was technically true if you ignored the part where boundaries felt increasingly theoretical every time we were in the same room.
“Good, good,” Matt said, and I could hear him typing in the background, which meant he was probably still at work despite it being almost eight o’clock. “And Declan’s being... nice?”
Nice. I nearly snorted into the phone. But the question made me pause, mainly because I wasn’t sure how to answer it.
Declan had been completely nice in every interaction we’d had.
He’d also been funny, thoughtful, attractive, and today he’d spent forty-seven minutes crawling around behind Christmas decorations helping me solve electrical problems while looking unfairly good in jeans that fit him perfectly.
His kiss was nice. He was just fucking nice.
Nice to everyone. And that thought made me sink even lower.
Derek was nice to everyone. He had been nice to me.
His kisses were nice. I knew deep down I needed to stop comparing them, but I couldn’t help it. Derek was still too fresh in my mind.
“Why are you asking?” I said instead of answering.
“Because you’re my little sister, and after what Derek did to you, I’m maybe feeling a little overprotective,” Matt said, his voice taking on the particular tone that meant he was prepared to drive to Vermont right now and defend my honor if necessary.
“I know Declan’s a good guy, but you’re vulnerable right now, and I don’t want anyone taking advantage of that. ”
Vulnerable. The word hit me like a slap, even though I knew Matt meant it with love rather than judgment. Our mother had obviously been gossiping to her golden eldest child.
“I’m not vulnerable,” I grit out, probably too quickly. “I’m rebuilding. There’s a difference.”
“Holly, the man you trusted cheated on you, cleaned out your bank accounts and left you homeless right before Christmas. That’s not the kind of thing someone just bounces back from in a few weeks.”
The casual way Matt summarized the complete destruction of my love life, financial stability and emotional trust made my chest tight.
It was accurate, but hearing it said out loud—especially in the context of my growing feelings for Declan—made me realize how pathetic my situation probably looked from the outside.
“I’m handling it,” I said firmly. “And I’m not going to make the same mistakes again.”
“I know you’re handling it,” Matt said gently. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But strength doesn’t mean you have to handle everything alone. And it doesn’t mean you have to be suspicious of everyone who shows interest in you.”
Interest. As if my attraction to Declan was obvious enough that Matt was worried about it from three states away.
“Is there something specific you’re trying to tell me?” I asked.
“Just... be careful, okay? I love Declan like a brother, but he’s going through his own stuff right now. Career crisis, questioning everything about his life direction. That’s not necessarily the best foundation for someone to build a relationship on.”
Career crisis. Questioning his life direction.
All things I already knew, but hearing Matt spell them out made me realize how little I actually knew about Declan’s current situation.
He was on sabbatical, but I didn’t know why.
He was questioning his career, but I didn’t know what he wanted instead.
He’d said this was getting complicated, but I didn’t know if that meant complicated in a good way or complicated in a way that made me a temporary distraction from his real life.
“I’m not building a relationship,” I said, which was true in the sense that I was specifically trying not to build a relationship. “We’re planning a festival.”
“Right,” Matt said with the kind of skepticism that suggested he wasn’t buying my casual tone. “Festival planning. With the guy who used to have a massive crush on you when we were teenagers.”
“What?” The word came out as a squeak. “Matt, what are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, Holly. You had to have noticed. Declan could barely form complete sentences around you when you were fifteen. He used to volunteer to help me with your homework just so he’d have an excuse to sit next to you at the kitchen table.”
I sat in stunned silence, processing this information.
Declan had had a crush on me? Teenage Declan, who I’d thought was completely out of my league and barely tolerating my presence, had actually been interested?
At the same time that I’d been mooning over him and doodling our names in my notepad. What are the fucking odds?
“I had no idea,” I said finally.
“Really? Because you used to get dressed up whenever you knew he was coming over. Mom used to tease you about it.”
“I did not get dressed up,” I protested, though even as I said it, I remembered the careful attention I’d paid to my appearance whenever Matt brought friends home. “I just wanted to look nice.”
“Holly, you once changed outfits three times because Declan was staying for dinner.”
“That’s not... that doesn’t mean anything,” I said weakly.
“It means you had a crush on him, too,” Matt said. “Which is fine, by the way. Ancient history. I’m just saying, maybe be aware that there might be some... unresolved chemistry there.”
Unresolved chemistry. As if the way my pulse spiked every time Declan looked at me was some kind of teenage hangover rather than a completely new and adult attraction to the man he’d become.
“Matt,” I said carefully, “are you telling me this because you want me to be careful around Declan, or because you want me to know he might be interested?”
“I’m telling you this because I want you to be happy,” Matt said simply. “And because I want you to make decisions based on complete information rather than whatever insecurities Derek left you with.”
The mention of Derek made something cold settle in my stomach.
Because Matt was right—I was making decisions based on Derek’s betrayal.
Every time I caught myself being attracted to Declan, I immediately started questioning whether it was real, whether I could trust my own judgment, and whether I was just being na?ve again.
“Derek really did a number on you, didn’t he?” Matt said gently, apparently reading the silence.
“He made me doubt myself,” I admitted. “About everything. My looks, my career choices, my friends, what I ate, about whether someone could actually want me for the right reasons, or if I’m just..
. convenient, or desperate because I’m fat and no guy will ever want me.
” Tears pricked my eyes, and I gulped. I was not going to cry in front of my big brother.
“Holly, please don’t think any of those things. You’re amazing. Smart, funny, beautiful, capable of organizing an entire festival despite having your life imploded a month ago. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”
“Any guy except the one who cleaned out my bank accounts and disappeared with his side piece,” I said dryly.
“Derek was an asshole who took advantage of your trust,” Matt said firmly. “That’s a reflection of his character, not yours. Don’t let one lying piece of shit make you doubt your worth.”
I sat quietly for a moment, processing Matt’s words and trying to sort through the tangle of emotions they’d stirred up. Attraction to Declan, uncertainty about his intentions, fear of making another mistake, and underneath it all, the bone-deep insecurity that Derek had left me with.
“So,” Matt said, breaking the silence, “what’s your take on the Declan situation? Professional collaboration only, or something more interesting?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “He’s... complicated, and what does it even matter? If you’re trying to push us together, you and Mom, don’t. Okay?”
“Complicated how?”
He ignored my plea like a champ.
“Complicated because he’s gorgeous and smart and funny, and when he looks at me, I forget about boundaries,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
“Complicated because I don’t know if what I’m feeling is real attraction or just gratitude that someone is treating me like I’m worth paying attention to.
Complicated because he’s your best friend and he’s going through his own crisis, and I have no idea what he actually wants. ”
“Have you considered asking him what he wants?”
“We agreed to keep things mature and sensible.”
“That sounds terrible,” Matt said with obvious amusement.
“Matt!”
“I’m just saying, if you like him and he likes you, maybe boundaries are less important than figuring out if you’re compatible for something more than festival planning.”
“And if we’re not compatible? If I’m just projecting my rebound feelings onto the first guy who’s been nice to me? If he’s just looking for a holiday distraction before he goes back to his real life?”
“Then you’ll figure that out too,” Matt said simply. “But Holly, you can’t protect yourself from every possible disappointment. At some point, you have to decide if the risk is worth it.”
“You need to fuck off out of my business and get your ass up here A-SAP,” I grumbled.
He chuckled, and when we hung up, I sat on my bed for a long time, staring at my reflection in the mirror and trying to process everything Matt had told me.
Declan had had a crush on me when we were teenagers.
He was going through his own career crisis.
I was apparently more obvious about my attraction than I’d realized.
And I was making decisions based on fear rather than what I actually wanted.
The truth was, I did want something more with Declan Hayes.
I wanted to find out if the chemistry between us was real.
I wanted to see if the man who brought me chocolate croissants and solved festival problems and looked at me like I was someone worth paying attention to was as wonderful as he seemed.
But I also wanted to protect myself from making another devastating mistake.
Which left me exactly where I’d started—attracted to my festival co-chair, uncertain about his intentions, and completely unsure how to navigate the space between wanting someone and trusting them.
I looked at myself in the mirror again. I looked confident, capable, attractive. I looked like someone who could handle whatever complications came her way.
The question was whether I actually felt that confident, or if I was just really good at faking it.
Time would tell, but either way, tomorrow’s vendor meeting was going to require some serious emotional compartmentalization. And possibly a different outfit.
I glared at the polka dot skirt on the bed. Or maybe the same outfit, worn with enough confidence to remind both of us that Holly Winters was worth taking seriously, regardless of what kind of boundaries we were maintaining.
Some decisions, apparently, were easier to make while looking good in polka dots.