22. Holden
Chapter Twenty-Two
Holden
Lizette has a son, a six-and-a-half-year-old.
I do the math in my head, trying to figure out how old she was and who she may have been with then. Was she married? The thought of her marrying someone sours my stomach, even though I know I have no right to feel that way.
I wonder if it was him. Landon Carter. He was an asshole when he was an upperclassman in my fraternity, and I have no doubt that he hasn’t changed.
Some people are stupid in college because they’re young and immature.
Maybe they’re jerks, and when you meet them later in life, they’ve grown into better men.
But Landon Carter is the kind of person you know is never going to become the man he should be: honorable, respectable, protective.
All the things my dad taught me to be.
I’d bet my entire bank account that he doesn’t live up to any of them.
I get lost staring into the glass of high-end whiskey I’m holding, gently swirling it and watching the amber liquid move.
“Hey, stranger. I was hoping to see you here.”
It’s a feminine voice—one I know well from other conferences. Danielle. I glance up and offer a smile I don’t feel.
“Hi, Danielle. Good to see you.”
Even I can hear the difference in my voice: familiar but lacking the usual flirty edge that’s been there between us for a few years.
“Care to partake in some red with me?” She lifts a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“I think I’m sticking to whiskey tonight. Thank you, though.”
It wasn’t clear enough that I wanted to be alone because she slid into the booth across from me, the one I had specifically chosen tucked away in the corner.
“Okay.” She shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
She sets the bottle and glasses on the table and pushes one toward me like she expects I’ll cave.
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming to this one. Normally, you text, or I do, but you didn’t respond to mine.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Just had a lot going on. Got tied up.”
“No problem. We’re both here, and I found you, so that’s all that matters.”
She winks, a seductive smile forming on her lips, and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.
I hate it. It doesn’t feel right. I let it sit there for a second, then pull away.
What the hell is wrong with me?
She pours herself a glass of wine while I continue sipping my whiskey.
Her inability to read the room is impressive.
I suspect her success at selling roofing materials has more to do with her looks and willingness to flirt than actual sales skills.
She’s gorgeous—no question. Curves in all the right places.
But we’ve never had a conversation beyond superficial small talk.
“So, what have you been up to? It’s been over six months since we were at a conference together. How are those handsome brothers of yours?”
I lean back in the booth, trying to keep my answers short without being outright rude.
“Everything’s fine. Family’s good. Henry got married. Harrison’s probably not far behind.”
She frowns. “Too bad they’re off the market. Some of my friends here are going to be sorely disappointed. Though what happens at conferences stays at conferences, so maybe there’s still a shot.”
That irritates me, and I’m sure my expression isn’t pleasant. These conferences are something we’ve always rotated attending.
Henry used to go more often, but once he became a single dad, it got harder. Then, when Tillie came along, it just made sense for one of us single brothers to come so he could be home with his family.
Harrison hates them with a passion, so it’s usually me. And normally, I don’t mind. I take the business side seriously, evaluating products, talking to reps, but once that’s done, I’ve never had a problem enjoying the rest.
Distractions with no strings. Danielle has often been part of that.
People can say what they want about me; I know I’ve avoided anything beyond the physical with women I meet here. Hell, with women I meet anywhere.
My brothers, though? No way. Especially not Harrison. Well, except for that one time with Delaney, and that turned out all right.
My brothers and I are close, and I feel a need to defend their character.
“I do think it matters,” I say. “Neither Henry nor Harrison would be interested in your friends.”
It comes out harsher than I intended.
Danielle’s eyes widen, and she leans back. “Whoa. I’m going to assume you’re having a bad day and not just being an asshole.”
I feel a flicker of guilt, but I don’t respond. I lift my glass and take a slow sip.
“I’m pretty sure we run in similar circles, Holden. Everyone’s an adult and makes their own choices. I’m not a fan of you slut-shaming my friends—”
I hold up a hand. “I’m sorry. Okay? That was harsh. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I got defensive. My brothers aren’t cheaters.”
Her posture relaxes slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t do it again. I bet I wasn’t the first woman you hooked up with at one of these, and I’m sure I won’t be the last. One conference I miss, and you’ll find someone else.”
Ouch. That stings. At least that’s how I’ve operated in the past. Not proud of it, but it’s the truth. I’ve wondered before why it’s easier for me to occupy my time with a hookup rather than sitting alone with my thoughts.
I’ve never handled that well.
And I’ve definitely never been interested in anything beyond a couple of dates. Three, technically. That’s always been my rule, except with Danielle. These don’t count. We see each other so infrequently that when we hook up, we both know exactly what it is.
“It’s fine. Let’s change the subject,” she says. “My sales are killing it. There’s a group of new builders from out west who are really interested in working with me. If I land enough deals, I’m pretty sure that promotion I’ve been going for is mine.”
“Well, early congratulations. Sounds like things are going well for you.”
I hope she’ll take the hint and let the conversation die, but she doesn’t. Instead, I feel her foot slide along my leg under the table.
She tilts her head, biting her lower lip. “You could help me celebrate. I’ve got a suite this time.”
I shift my leg so her foot falls away, but she places it right back where it was.
“What do you say? Think of all the fun we could have.” Her words are seductive, but I’m not even remotely tempted.
I reach down, wrap my hand around her ankle, and move it off me. “Not tonight. And please stop.”
She frowns. “What’s gotten into you?”
I know exactly what has gotten into me. A stubborn, brilliant, gorgeous blonde I never forgot, and never thought I’d see again. The only woman I’ve ever wanted more with. And that didn’t end well. So...
“Nothing’s gotten into me,” I say. “I’m just not interested tonight. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I really want to be alone.”
She studies me for a few seconds. Then she grabs the wine bottle and her glass and slides out of the booth, standing a few feet away.
“That’s fine, Holden. Be alone. Just remember this the next time you’re feeling lonely at one of these.” She gestures between us. “This doesn’t happen twice. I don’t get rejected, and I don’t give second chances.”
Damn. I never realized how sour she could be.
“Enjoy the rest of the conference, Danielle. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.”
She narrows her eyes at me and huffs. Anger radiates from her.
“You’re so not worth it.” She stalks away.
“I know, Danielle,” I whisper to myself. “I know.”