Chapter 3
Holly
“Holly? Do you want to use my phone to call Dakota?”
“Oh, you’re still here, Ford?” Damn. I blink hard. I can’t cry in front of him. I tell myself to not be such a baby.
“Ya. I can go—”
“No.” Shit. I said that way too quickly. “Um…I’m glad you’re here.” I hug the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
“You wanna call Dakota?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I hate feeling this weak.
This deflated. I hate it so much. But that stupid horror movie.
And stupid Damon. And those beautiful but dumb flowers.
I should be grateful. He bought me flowers to say sorry.
Even though he didn’t actually say sorry.
Shit. Don’t cry. This is not good. “I’ll just call her to see if she can come sleep over.
” Otherwise I’ll be up all night checking behind the curtains.
When she doesn’t answer the call or three text messages, Ford and I just look at his phone.
Just as I plow through the only sentence I can form—“I’m going to go to sleep now”—Ford says, “I can stay.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I mean, if you need me to.”
And I really don’t want to need him to, but… “Ya…um. That would be cool. Damon said you should stay anyway.”
He chuckles for the first time all night. “Ya, not sure what he meant by that.”
I know I’m being such a baby about this, but I really hate horror movies.
The only reason I let Damon turn it on was because he promised that he’d cuddle me all night.
I can’t be left alone in this house tonight, so even though I shouldn’t take Ford up on this offer, he’s my only lifeline.
“I could make up the couch for you,” I say, as I’m in the middle of smoothing out a blanket and finding him a pillow.
When I look back to gauge his reaction, he’s smiling at me.
“Looks perfect.”
“Okay. Um…goodnight then.”
“Goodnight, Holly.”
“Goodnight, Ford,” I mumble-rush the words because they sound way too freaking intimate.
Then I dash upstairs. Almost giddy. Giddy?
After a horror film? That’s unheard of. I have no clue what the heck I’m feeling and why I’m feeling it.
Scratch that. I do know. And I should definitely, one hundred percent not be feeling things for another man.
I’m in a freaking relationship, for goodness’ sake.
I mean…it’s not great right now. And it’s been on the rocks for several months now…but I’m still with someone. Oh my God, I’m a horrible person.
This is what I say to myself all the way into my bed and as I pull the covers over my face. This is what I keep saying to myself as I fall asleep.
But I somehow forget to say it to myself when I wake up about an hour later from my own scream. Shit. This is why I hate horror movies.
My door bangs open.
I scream again.
“Holly, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Ford’s voice is groggy but recognizable. Also recognizable are his abs for days and bare chest with a smattering of chest hair, and a fucking treasure trail. The man’s in black boxer briefs and nothing else.
Fuck my life.
Shit. Now he’s crouching near my bed.
“Are you okay?”
I nod because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth which it should definitely not be, but the other option is to let it hang out of my mouth like a dog.
“Are you sure? You screamed. Twice.”
“Ya,” I finally manage as I blink hard. “I’m good.” It’s been a really shitty day. And I just really do not want to cry in front of him.
“Do you need anything?”
Shit. I do. I really need a hug. Physical touch and all that. But this is Ford. And he’s half naked. I shouldn’t— “Ya.”
“What do you need?”
“I could really use a hug.”
His body stiffens slightly. Which…I get. I know I’m not his type. He’s made it really clear the few times we’ve met. He can’t hardly stand the sight of me, never mind having to touch me.
“Uh…”
“Never mind. It’s ok. I don’t need—”
“No. I can do it. Ya. Um…I can just give you a hug.”
He stands up awkwardly and I join him. Then he bends at the hips and pats my back three times. “There you go.”
And I don’t know if it’s the gesture itself or all of the night’s (and possibly months’) antics combined, but I giggle.
“That’s your hug?” I step back to catch his face reflected in the light streaming in from the window.
“Ya. Why? Not a good hug?”
“No. Not a good hug at all.”
“You can do better?” He challenges me playfully.
“Definitely.” And, forgetting that I shouldn’t do it, I throw my arms around him and plaster my body to his.
Which…of course was a huge mistake. It doesn’t feel like a huge mistake though.
It feels like summer camp. Like coziness.
Like sun. Like something amazing could happen if I just open myself up to it.
For all the known and unknown reasons, I should not be hugging a half naked man in the dark in my room.
But he’s here. And Damon’s not. Damon abandoned me.
Neglected me again like he’s done for the last several months.
I know, not a good reason. But maybe Damon and I are more disconnected than I thought if I want to find comfort with another man.
Maybe I should free myself up for something better and let myself make this possibly huge mistake.
Though nothing is as huge as the bulge I suddenly feel against my abdomen.