Chapter 27 #2
It takes me right back to sixteen, when I couldn’t get through a single class without his onslaught of sneers.
“You into girls now, Maggie? Or just Constance?”
I fix my smile in place, just like Mama taught me. “Bless your heart, Wade, but we’re going to pass. Y’all enjoy your dinner.”
Holden lowers his glasses, meeting my eyes. “You okay?”
“More than okay,” I say, taking the hand that’s still waiting for mine.
We’re on a date, and I’m not about to let some washed-up high school bully ruin it.
His gaze flicks to their table. “They’re just…staring.”
“Seriously? People are staring? At you?”
“My ego loves attention, but that is not the vibe they’re giving off.”
I shrug. “I’m choosing to ignore them.”
“What about Constance?” he asks. “Are we ignoring her too?”
I glance over at my friend. She’s glaring at Wade, ears back and claws out. “That one’s a little more complicated. She has a history with that guy.”
“She doesn’t seem too enamored with him.”
I bite back a smile. Enamored of, but I let that one slide too.
“No, she doesn’t.” But she’s a big girl, and it’s her call.
I’m about to ask him if he’s ready to scoot when “Bluest Eyes in Texas” comes on the jukebox.
He clamps a hand over his mouth. “How did you—did you do that?”
My throat closes. I search the restaurant for Sissy and give her a subtle nod. “It was the owner. She played it for my mother.”
He watches me for a moment, then slides out of the booth. “Dance with me?”
“Here?”
“Here.”
This is probably a terrible idea, considering our audience. But Holden can dance to exactly one song, and he’s holding out his hand, ready to take a chance.
Guess maybe I should too.
“I like that there’s no dance floor,” he whispers as he pulls me close, his arm slipping around my back, fingers threading through mine. “It’s more…intimate.”
Snickers rev up behind us, and I wonder if he meant exposed.
I find myself trying to lead, trying to lure him away from their table. But when I catch his expression shift—his brows drawing together, head tilting slightly—I know he hears it too.
“This is bull…crap,” he mutters, wrangling a laugh out of me.
“Okay, that’s like the second time you’ve done that,” I say.
“Done what?”
“Not cursed. Who are you right now?” It’s stupid how that one little edit makes my breath come faster—even though his filthy mouth turns me on.
“You don’t curse.”
“That’s my southern upbringing. I don’t have a choice.” I tap his boot with my sandal. “We gonna do this?”
He tips the brim of his cap. Low, casual. Southern. “Yes ma’am.”
Did the heat just kick on?
Constance was right. Holden Shaw is Tripp McCoy. And he’s not even acting.
I rest my head against his shoulder, our clasped hands tucked between us. “You don’t have to censor yourself for me. Especially not in bed.”
A quiet laugh thrums in his chest, but he doesn’t stumble. He moves through my confession smooth as butter, whisking me down one row of tables, then up another. Wade’s group chirps in the background, but Holden’s tuned it out.
Until a lull in the chorus cracks the moment wide open.
“Does he know he’s her beard?”
It lands louder than it should’ve, like whoever said it didn’t see the silence coming.
Holden stops so fast I crash into his chest.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “Keep going. You’re doing great.”
“I know what a beard is, Maggie. It’s not nothing.”
Laughter erupts from behind me. “Dude, he heard you.”
“So what? Pussy’s not gonna do a fucking thing.”
I step closer, putting myself between Holden and the table like that’ll help. Phone screens glint around us.
Don’t. Please don’t.
Wade’s voice, loud and thick with booze, cuts through the low din of the restaurant. “Maybe she’s his beard, too.”
“Wade, quit!” Constance says, and I hope she can rein him in because I don’t know how long I can keep Holden back.
His grip on my hand tightens, and I know he’s seconds from snapping. His jaw locks, his chest rising like he’s halfway to the table already.
“People are recording. You don’t want this. Artie doesn’t need it.” I wait for him to look at me, but he doesn’t. “They’re not worth it.”
“No, Maggie,” he says, his glare still pinned on them. “But you are.”
I lift a finger to his chin, bringing him back to me. “I’m asking you not to. For me. Please.”
But it’s a hard ask, especially with every last one of them staring us down.
Wade most of all—leaning back on two chair legs, smug as a cat in a birdhouse.
“So how does that work with a brother and sister, Maggie? Y’all screw around to see who liked dick more?”
“That’s fucking it,” Holden says, and I know there’s no stopping him—I’m not even sure I want to after that.
He rips his hand from mine, but before he can take a single step, Constance shoves back from the table, rising so fast she spills her drink. “That’s enough, Wade.”
“You need to watch your damn mouth.” Still tipped back in his chair, he grips the table with one hand and Constance’s wrist with the other, twisting until she yelps.
“Constance,” Holden says, his voice low as he inches forward. “Are you okay?”
She jerks her hand free and rubs her wrist. “Y-yeah. Um, thanks…Holden.”
Wade’s glassy eyes flick between them. “You know this fucker?”
“Yeah,” she says. “So do you.” She snatches the hat from his head and slams it into his chest. The chair beneath him skids, teeters, then topples backward. Wade hits the floor with a dull thud.
There’s a beat of silence. Then Constance, slow and steady, picks up his basket of ketchup-drowned fries and dumps them on top of him. “Whoops.”
“Constance Marie,” Sissy calls from behind the register.
“Sorry, Sissy,” Constance says, never taking her eyes off Wade. To her credit, he seems pretty rattled. “Just put it on my tab.”
Phones are everywhere now, and the door feels impossibly far. Beside me, Holden looks ready to pounce. I smooth my hand down the raised tendons of his arm, uncurl his fist, then slide my fingers through his. The rough pad of his thumb sweeps over my knuckles, and that’s all I need.
“All these years, I thought I loved you. But that can’t be, right?
Because what would that say about me?” Constance grabs a stack of napkins and starts blotting up her spilled drink.
“I always knew you were a drunk and a cheat. But now I see—with painful, absolute clarity—that those were your better qualities. Because at your core, you’re just a despicable human being.
” She drops the wad of napkins onto Wade’s fry-covered chest, then levels him with her boot.
“We’re through, Wade Russo,” she says, yanking off her ring and adding it to the pile.
“Don’t call me. Don’t come near me. Don’t even think about me. ”
Then she turns to me, and her face crumples. “Maggie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But I swear I’m done.” She snatches her purse from the hook beneath the table. “I hope you can forgive me…again.”
Holden tugs his cap lower and adjusts his glasses. “Let’s go. Keep your head down and stay close. Don’t make eye contact.”
At the register, he pulls out his wallet and covers our tab, then slides a few hundred-dollar bills across the counter. “For damages.”
“It’s okay, son,” Sissy says. “I wasn’t gonna charge her. That asshole had it coming.” She looks up at me, her smile warm but tired. “It’s good to see you again, Maggie.”
Outside, Constance is nowhere in sight.
The parking lot is full, lit only by the moon and a single streetlight. Voices carry in the distance. A few rows over, a car alarm sounds.
Holden helps me into the cab and sets our dessert bag at my feet.
He lingers for a moment like he wants to say something, then slams the door shut.
Silence stretches as he rounds the hood to the driver’s side.
He climbs in, drops his Clark Kent glasses in the cup holder, and grips the wheel like he’s trying to break it in two.
I don’t blame him for being angry. We should’ve left the second they came in, but I wanted to save face. Now we’ll probably make TMZ.
“Goddammit!” He rips off his hat and hurls it into the back seat.
I flinch. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Maggie, no. Do not apologize. That guy is vile.” He picks up my hand and holds it in both of his, dark eyes studying me in the pale light. “Is that what you went through in high school? After Ben…?”
“You know about that?”
“Loretta may have mentioned an article.”
I let out a sigh. “Yeah. But not for long. I was homeschooled after that.”
“Just you?”
“Ben didn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“He handled it differently. Acted like nothing happened. Like it didn’t touch him.” I shake my head. “But I couldn’t. The bullying…it broke me.” A thick swallow catches in my throat. “Maybe if I’d had Constance back then things would’ve been different.”
“What really happened? The article just says Ben was outed but not how.”
I sit forward, wrapping my arms around the jacket in my lap. “He and another boy were holding hands under the table at Lucy’s, and someone got a picture. Constance and I were in the frame too, so we got dragged into it. Made the gossip juicier, I guess.”
My gaze drops to the floorboard. “It also made us weirdly popular. Constance had been obsessed with Wade forever, and when he started paying attention to her…”
“Some friend,” Holden mutters.
“Yeah, well, the bullying was relentless. We’re in Podunk, where nothing ever happens, so this was big news. Wade was the quarterback. Everyone loved him. And being with him meant she was immune.”
“I just…” Holden rubs a finger between his brows. “I don’t know how you were able to get past that.”
“She was a kid who made a mistake. And it seemed like tonight, for the first time, she really felt the weight of it.” I look over at him. “She’s loved him through every one of his faults, and believe me, there are many.”
“Do you think they’ll get back together?”
“I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.”
His mouth twitches. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“This will be hard for her,” I say, mindlessly tracing the seams on the jacket. “I’ll need to step up.”
Holden reaches for my hand. “You’re so good, Maggie—like, down-to-your-core good. The way you take care of people without even realizing it. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known.” His eyes crinkle. “Except maybe my mother.”
The compliment makes my heart swell, but I’m far from a saint. Getting past what Constance did wasn’t exactly effortless.
“I see how you are with Hannah,” I say. “I think you’re more like your mom than you realize.”
A faint smile crosses his lips before he turns and starts the ignition. “I’m afraid we may have a paparazzi situation on our hands after this. You especially.”
I busy myself with my seatbelt. “Your Superman getup finally fail you?”
He glances at me. “Actually, Constance did. She didn’t mean to, but when she threw his hat at him…”
“I couldn’t see it. What happened?”
“It was a Coral Coast hat. I noticed it as soon as they walked in.” His head falls back against the headrest, eyes closing. “And when she said my name out loud, that sealed it.”
“I’m sure she didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”
“Maggie, please. Stop apologizing. None of this was your fault. It wasn’t hers either. I just hate that it might cost you.”
“I don’t know,” I say, pride for my friend welling inside me. “The way she finally stood up to him? Might be worth it.”
He checks over his shoulder, then eases off the brake. “How do I get to her place?”
I smile, caught off guard by the offer. “I appreciate it, but I’ve still got a few hours before Ben’s truck turns into a pumpkin, and I want to spend them with you.”
“I like that answer.”
I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and tap out a text. There’s nothing to forgive. I’m so proud of you. Working with Holden tomorrow but I’ll call when we’re done. xx
“So what’s next, Magnolia? I’m guessing bingo’s out?”
“Definitely not feeling bingo, but my brother’s probably home.”
“Let’s go back to the carriage house,” he says, nodding at the bag at my feet. “Eat our pie. Maybe watch a movie?”
Or maybe not watch a movie.
The thought lights me up from the inside. I point an air vent at my face.
“Sounds perfect. I don’t think Ben needs to see us parading around holding hands.” I lace my fingers through his on the console. “And I really just want to hold your hand.”
“Yeah, Maggie. Me too.”