Chapter 7
LIAM
Ilaid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, unable to sleep like I had every night since walking away from Holly last weekend.
Images of her pretty face danced in my head, vivid and unrelenting—the way her laughter bubbled up during the movie, catching me off guard with its sweetness; the soft curve of her smile when our hands brushed in the popcorn bowl.
The vulnerability in the eyes when she said she liked me.
She was a drug and I was thoroughly addicted. I thought texting would be enough of a fix and, for the first few days, it was but as the week dragged on I wanted more. I needed to hear her say something beyond the words that echoed in my mind. “Come find me when the bet is done.”
I groaned, rolled onto my side, and yanked the pillow over my head. Come find her. That single sentence haunted me.
What did she mean by that?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t a rejection—not outright. But it wasn’t an invitation either. It was… conditional. A maybe, dangling between us like a loose thread I didn’t know how to tie.
I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. It wasn’t fair—this ache, this pull to be near her. I flopped onto my back again and hugged the pillow with both hands. My heart thudded unevenly as my thoughts spiraled. This stupid, fucking bet was ruining my life.
What should have been a chance to prove that I was more than the idiot little brother who was only useful behind the bar, had turned into something so much bigger. Something I hadn’t planned for.
The rules had been simple: charm a pretty girl into marrying me and they’d each hand over ten percent of their shares.
I’d have the most swing when it came to the family business.
My brothers would have no choice but to listen and respect my opinions and I’d finally be more than just the baby brother bartender.
The family fuck up.
At the time, the stakes felt so trivial. I literally had nothing to lose. Monetarily, ten percent was a drop in a hat. I was in this for the respect, not the money, but then things got heated and I threw the deed to Abbott's into the pot to prove I was taking the opportunity seriously.
And I was…
Until Holly walked back into my life.
I groaned again, realizing but not wanting to admit I would risk everything that I was fighting for for her. Was that crazy? We barely knew each other.
A moment from the first night we met flashed through my mind and all I could see was her. Her smile. The way she tilted her head when she was trying to hide her curiosity. The guarded look in her eyes that told me she felt just as much as I did, but was scared of getting hurt.
I wouldn’t hurt her. In fact, I had this strange urge to protect her. I wanted her to curl up beside me so I could hold her and tell her I’d never let anyone hurt her again. I wanted to be her rock, the anchor to the lifeboat she hadn’t stepped into yet. And that was my problem.
I was gone for a girl who wasn’t even sure if she wanted me in her life.
I jolted up, the tension that had kept me rooted in bed gone, replaced with a nervous energy that demanded action. Sleep was pointless. I knew what I needed to do, and lying here wasn’t going to make it happen.
Early morning air carried the faint scent of dew and the promise of hope. In a few hours the sun would burn off the last tendrils of winter, but for the next hour or two the outside world was cool, calm, and collected.
The complete opposite of how I felt.
I glanced down at the tissue wrapped bouquet I picked from the flower cart on the corner of eighth and first street.
My confidence wavered as I questioned, again, whether showing up with them was a good idea or not.
I'd given Holly flowers the last time we were together.
Were two bouquets too much? Did they show that I cared, or did they scream desperation?
Last night, while I was planning this, they felt like a nice gesture. Now, I wasn’t sure, but I was committed. With a deep breath, I forced myself not to throw them into the bushes and knocked on her door. My heart thudded in the pause that followed.
The door eventually creaked open and Holly appeared, blinking at me in surprise. She wore a loose sweatshirt and leggings, her hair piled into a messy bun that somehow made her look even more beautiful in her natural, unpolished way.
“Liam?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Good morning.” I lifted the bouquet slightly, a sheepish smile tugging at my lips.
The flowers were lame. I should have brought donuts.
Everyone loves donuts! But if I had brought donuts, it would have ruined my plan.
.. My thoughts spun in circles, so before I could stray from what I’d devised and make any more of a fool of myself than I already had, I said, “These are for you. I thought they might brighten your day.”
Holly’s eyebrows arched as her gaze dropped to the flowers. For a moment, she just stared at me, as if she were trying to figure out why I was on her porch so early on a Sunday morning. It really was early, barely eight AM and I could tell I’d woken her.
Just as I was about to apologize for showing up unannounced, a slow, soft smile spread across her face. She reached for the bouquet, her fingers brushing mine. “Daisies and lavender. These are my favorites.”
“Lucky guess,” I said, though, in truth, I’d spent nearly fifteen agonizing minutes at the flower cart, overthinking every option until I finally committed.
Holly’s bathroom had a lingering aroma of lavender, so I thought there was a good chance she’d like the stems. As for the daisies, those were my mother’s favorite.
I figured she wouldn’t steer me wrong and so I paired the two together.
Plus, I liked the way the purple and white looked together.
“Do you want to come inside? I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
“I’d love to.” I slid my shoes off near the door and followed the familiar path to the kitchen. It felt like deja vu. I was following in last week’s footsteps, only today I was going to take that needle pointing at friends and push it one tick closer to more.
Holly set the flowers on the kitchen counter then rummaged through a drawer for another vase. Last week's stems were still alive, a little wilty, but she hadn’t tossed them yet. “So, what brings you by so early? Shouldn’t you be sleeping after working last night?”
“I’m a morning person,” I said casually, leaning against the counter. To some degree I was, even after late nights, but I usually wasn’t up this early. “And I thought maybe we could grab some breakfast from KeKe’s in town. Unless you’re busy?”
Holly’s hands paused at the faucet, just before filling the lemonade pitcher she grabbed in place of a vase. Her blue eyes darted up and she looked at me as if she were trying to peer into my soul. “Breakfast, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said, my tone deliberately light. “Nothing fancy. Just two friends satisfying the completely normal urge to eat.”
She filled the pitcher with water and opened the little packet of powder marked flower food.
I waited patiently as she created the mixture and then watched her add the stems. She clipped and set each one with precision.
Those piercing eyes flicked to me every few minutes, curious if I was still watching.
I was and I wasn’t ashamed that I liked what I saw.
Five minutes that seemed to stretch a lifetime while simultaneously flying by passed before she said, “Okay. Let me just run upstairs and get dressed.”
“Take your time.” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out to her. I wanted to grab her by the wrist as she passed and pull her close. I wanted to taste those lips again and feel her warmth against my chest.
And I would, but not today.
I walked around the bottom floor of her duplex while I waited.
Pictures of Holly and friends, perhaps even family, hung on the wall.
I recognized Dahlia in one and wondered if the two other women in the photo were her sisters, too.
They looked nothing alike, then again I never would have guessed Dahlia and Holly to be related had she not told me otherwise.
A few minutes later, Holly came down the steps in a pair of dark jeans and wrapped in a cozy sweatshirt. Her messy bun was still intact and somehow she looked effortlessly put together, like she hadn’t tried at all, yet she still managed to make my pulse quicken.
“Ready?” I asked and she nodded.
Outside, I opened the door for Holly and waited as she stepped into my Honda Civic.
I’d had the car since college and had never been self-conscious about it.
It was paid off, something my brothers couldn’t say about their high-end vehicles, which usually made me proud.
But for the first time, I wondered if the older car made me look… I didn’t know… less than.
The thought didn’t linger long because as soon as I sat beside Holly her sweet scent filled the space around us and I was officially high on a perfume buzz.
I pulled out of the driveway, letting the radio play in the background for a few minutes.
The silence between us wasn’t awkward but it felt loaded, like she was waiting for me to say something first.
“So,” I began, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. “What do you do these days? I’m ashamed to say I don’t remember what your major was.”
“I’m a marketing manager,” Holly said, folding her hands in her lap. “I work from home most days, but I visit my clients in person once or twice a month. Emails and Zoom meetings are convenient, but it helps to actually see people face to face and get a feel for how things are going.”
“That’s cool,” I said, genuinely impressed. “Do I know any of the companies you work for?”
“Probably,” she replied with a hint of pride. “I’ve got accounts with Paws Groom and Board, Tony’s Pizza, and Sarah’s Sweet Treats.”