Chapter 8
Theo
Now
April’s flat
Heaven is real and I have arrived.
Holly stands at the door with one hand on her hip, a mixture of horror and annoyance flaring across her face. “Theo?”
She’s wearing a mid-length blue dress. It’s cut low at the front and has a slit all the way up to the top of her thigh.
Her short blonde waves are pushed to one side, held together by a silver clip — and that’s where my ability to describe what I’m seeing ends, because as soon as my gaze travels to her bare shoulder and the thin satin strap sliding off of it, all the blood in my body rushes straight to my dick.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asks, and my eyes flash up to hers.
“I could ask you the same thing, Hollister.”
Her face tightens with disgust. “This is my sister’s apartment. Last I checked, I don’t need your permission to be here.”
The satin strap of her dress slides further down, barely hanging off her shoulder. A numbness settles over me and I feel myself getting hard again.
“Hello?” Holly snaps her fingers in front of my face, knocking me out of my trance. “Answer me. What are you doing here?”
The reprimanding tone of her voice makes me want to fall to my knees and run my hands over her perfect calves, kissing every inch of her soft skin while she goes on yelling at me.
My eyes skim over her bare arms, over her shoulders, then down, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, her perfect arse leading to long legs that drop into a pair of silver heels. She is a goddess.
My cock stiffens painfully, and it takes me a good two seconds to gather my thoughts. “You look ridiculous, by the way,” I finally say. My response is nothing but a feeble attempt to will my swelling dick to settle down.
Holly scoffs. “Must be why you can’t stop staring.” She pulls the strap up and slides to the side to block the entrance with her dainty little body.
“What? Not going to invite me in?”
“Do I look stupid to you? You’re not supposed to invite vampires into your home.”
“Don’t know which part of that sentence I should tackle first.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Stalking you, obviously.”
“Theo,” she warns.
My cheeks grow warm. Gosh, I really do adore the sound of my name from her mouth. “Yes, love?” I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, careful not to touch her skin.
Holly swats my hand away and pokes her index finger into the center of my chest. “Don’t you get tired of being such an asshole all the time?”
The corner of my mouth arches up. “You wanna see what I look like tired?”
“You’re disgusting.”
I take a step closer. “You’re fascinating.”
The words come out of nowhere, unbridled but true.
Holly’s glare diminishes into something less, her pupils dilating like a startled cartoon character. For someone so adept at killing, there sure is a remarkable softness in those eyes — sultry and amber, full of secrets no one will ever comprehend. No one but me.
The satin strap of her dress slides further down, barely hanging off her shoulder, and before I can stop it, the word leaves my mouth, “Fuck.”
Holly looks up at me, her eyes growing wide. Mine, however, stays glued to the bare spot on her shoulder.
I take a step forward and she draws in a breath.
My gaze wanders to her hair. The short, silky spirals from the curve of her neck to the shell of her ear.
She pulls the strap up and we make eye contact.
It lingers, both waiting for the other to look away.
But the longer the moment lasts, the harder that gets.
I don’t ever want to look away.
I want to rip that damn strap off and push her up against this door.
I want to bend my head down and suck on her nipple and watch her head loll back in pleasure as I gradually move to her neck.
I want to kiss her until she’s sighing and whimpering underneath my touch, begging me to take her right fucking here.
I want her to say my name. I want her to scream it.
I want to make her come. God, I want to make her come more than I want to breathe —
“Holly!” A shrill voice from inside the flat interrupts our stand-off. Holly instantly backs up a few paces, her gaze not meeting mine anymore.
Dammit.
“You’re not going to believe this! My dress has pockets —” April pauses, dressed head to toe in white. Her wedding dress, I presume. “Theo? What are you doing here? I thought you and Parker were taking Dog to KittyCon.”
And just like that, the moment is ruined.
“Yeah, he sort of clawed through his cape so we just ended up going to Taco Bell instead.” Leave it up to Hayden Parker to find a Comic Con for his cat (yes, his cat named Dog) and drag me to it.
April frowns. “Why are you standing outside?”
“You have an impeccable guard dog.” I point to Holly.
She scoffs. “Too scared to call me a bitch?”
“Just trying to think of a word you don’t hear on a daily basis.”
“How considerate.”
I touch my chest. “For you, always.”
“Drop dead.”
“Well done. That almost hurt my feelings.”
“We can rectify that.” She takes a step in my direction and April grabs her arm, pulling her to the side.
“Theo, please come in,” she says, offering me an apologetic smile. Holly flips me off. “Stop it.” April smacks her hand down.
Grinning, I walk inside the apartment. April is probably the only person on the planet who can cause Holly bodily harm and walk away with her fingers intact.
Despite the stark contrast in their personalities — one being a hyperactive ball of sunshine straight out of a Pixar movie and the other being, well, Holly — the two sisters get along surprisingly well. Their relationship fascinates me.
Hooking her arm around Holly’s, April drags her toward the living room. “Is Parker downstairs?”
Holly’s nose curls up at the sound of his name. They don’t get along. Unlike the glaringly obvious foreplay-based banter between the two of us, Parker and Holly fight like toddlers on crack. I don’t comprehend it, but I do enjoy it.
“He’s just grabbing some stuff from my car. Should be up in a minute.” I sit on their couch, frowning at April’s wedding dress. “Although, I’m not sure he’s supposed to see you in that just yet.”
The bride-to-be’s smile vanishes into thin air, and she looks down.
“Oh, don’t fucking listen to him,” Holly chimes in, searing holes into my forehead. “I already told you that’s an outdated and misogynistic tradition.”
“Misogynistic?” My question is solely out of politeness.
The tradition of grooms not seeing brides in their wedding dresses started because of arranged marriages.
The parents of the bride were afraid that if the groom saw her before the wedding, he would break the arrangement.
So yes, it is extremely outdated and misogynistic.
But I want to listen to Holly explain it to me. My murderous little know-it-all.
“Back when marriages were arranged…” she starts, and I tip my chin down to suppress the incoming grin. Listening to Holly when she’s all riled up and trying to prove a point is better than watching her spill blood.
The way her eyes light up, alive and dancing, like nothing else matters. Or how she sometimes moves her hands around as if they play a vital role in winning Petty Argument of the Day. My personal favourite is the adorable nose scrunch she does every two seconds.
Everything about this woman drives me crazy.
She has me wondering what it would feel like to be absolutely ruined by her.
Has she fantasized about killing me? It’s possible.
Would she stab me to death? Or would she slit open my throat?
Maybe she’d strangle me. Hmm. That could be fun.
Intimate even. Her fingers wrapped around my neck, choking me while she sits on top, straddling my waist.
The mental image makes me hard.
“But, of course, I wouldn’t expect you to know any of that,” Holly says, turning to face me as she finishes her rant. “I’m pretty sure if you google the word ‘misogynistic,’ your face shows up.”
“As long as they use a good picture.”
“Wait…call off the wedding?” April squeaks. “I-I thought it’s just bad luck. Like a bad hair day or a pimple.”
Holly frowns. “Please, have you met your fiancé? You could grow an extra head and that dipshit would still marry you. Twice.”
Don’t appreciate the unnecessary insult at my man, but she’s right. Parker would definitely marry April twice if he could. Every day for the rest of his life if he’s allowed. She’s his best friend. I’m a close second.
“You don’t know that,” April tells Holly.
“Of course, I do. I’m a doctor.”
“Yeah, not knowing doesn’t do well for our egos,” I intervene. “Although, she’s right to worry a little. It might be misogynistic, but it is tradition for a reason.”
“Can you fucking shut up?” Holly snaps.
“Make me.”
“Ohmygod,” April’s voice comes out meek. Oh dear. She looks like she’s about to cry. “I-I need to change.”
“April, you’re fine.”
She shakes her head repeatedly. “No, I need to change before Parker gets here.”
Right then, the apartment door swings open and in walks Hayden Parker, balancing a Taco Bell take-out bag in one hand and his two-year-old cat in the other.
“Yo, Carter, I think Dog scratched your backseat a little…” He looks up, his eyes instantly searching for April. “Oh my God.” The brown paper bag falls to the floor and so does Dog.
“Oh my God,” April parrots, eyes brimming with tears.
Dog pads over to me, the bells on his collar clinking together. I scoop him up into my lap and scratch the top of his white furry head, waiting for the show to begin.
“Chère, you look…fuck…” Parker starts walking toward April, but she holds out a hand.
“Don’t come any closer.”
“What?”
“And stop looking at me!”
“Why?”
“Turn around!”
He turns to me. “What’s going on?”
“Holly told her you want to call off the wedding.”
“What? I did no such thing!”
“Yes, you did!” April yells accusingly and Holly makes a low groaning sound.
“Come on, love. Lying is beneath you.”
“I will hurt you.”
I almost say, please do. “That would sound more threatening if you weren’t wearing Tinkerbell’s hand-me-downs.”
She turns to April with dead-set eyes. “I’m going to kill him.”
I scoff. “Riveting catchphrase.”
“Go fuck yourself,” she snaps.
“Only if you plan to watch.”
The heated glare in her eyes increases tenfold and Parker steps in the middle, one hand raised toward each of us. “All right, whoa! As much as I’m loving the trash talk, I need the two of you to take this petty bullshit elsewhere. Preferably someplace that’s not my apartment.”
“Parker!” April scolds.
“Fine, Chère, our apartment.” He gives his fiancée a soft smile before turning his focus to the maid of honor. “And you. Nice work, making your sister cry, I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”
Holly gapes. “Me? Why don’t you ask your fucking boyfriend? He’s the one who started it!”
She’s absolutely right. I did start it.
“Look, Hollister,” Parker says, and she crosses her arms, frowning at the use of that nickname. “There are more important issues at hand right now. For starters, April can’t be wearing her wedding dress in front of me. It’s bad luck.”
“And us leaving is going to fix that how?” I chime in, genuinely curious.
“Well, the second you guys leave, I’m going to take it off,” he says, hurrying to add, “respectfully,” for Holly’s sake.
Standing on the other side of the living room, April’s face has now turned into a tomato. “So you don’t want to call off the wedding?”
“Are you insane?” He walks towards her, closing the distance between them and twirls the tulle fabric between his fingers. “Fucking look at you. I can’t wait to get you all alone.”
“You weren’t supposed to see me in this dress,” she mutters. “I didn’t know you were coming home early.”
Parker nods, a soft understanding in his eyes. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry.” He cups her face in his hands and kisses the tip of her nose.
April glances up at him. “How sorry?”
“It’s best if I just show you.”
“Ugh, please don’t,” Holly cringes. Actually, we both do.
“Ssh,” Parker holds out a finger. “The adults are talking.”
He whispers something in April’s ear and by the reddened look on her face, I can tell, it’s dirty. I shake my head.
Putting Dog aside, I get up and gently nudge Holly’s arm with my elbow. “Come on, let’s go.”
She smacks my hand away. “I’m sorry, let’s?”
“You want to stay and watch? That’s your sister, Hol. A bit twisted, even for you.”
To be fair, April and Parker couldn’t care less.
They’ve now taken their mini honeymoon to the kitchen.
He has his whole body pressed against her, and they kiss, deep and passionate, as if they’re the only two people on the planet.
Most of the time their love for each other is quite adorable, but right now it’s just making everyone here uncomfortable. Their adorable cat included.
Without breaking their kiss, Parker grabs a bottle of whipped cream from the refrigerator and uses his free hand to hike April’s leg around his waist.
Jesus fucking Christ. These two have no sense of time and place.
“Whenever you’re ready, love,” I tell Holly who’s too busy wincing at the happy couple.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are. It’s freezing outside and you don’t own a car.”
The way she glares, you’d think I just insulted her whole family and everyone’s grandmother with that one remark.
Without averting her icy glare, she grabs her purse and her black coat off the back of the couch. “Good thing I have my ego to keep me warm.” And with that, Holly storms out of the apartment, shoving my shoulder in the process.
The brief touch is enough to make my pulse soar. Easy doesn’t work with Holly. Never has, never will.
I grab my phone off the coffee table, pet Dog goodbye, and chase after her.