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Beach Reads Box Set

Page 170

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa


  “There’s not a lot to talk about. I got a text from Yancy, and the building is open again,” I tell him. “I’m going to catch a flight tonight.”

  He runs a hand down his face. “I have a ton of shit on my plate right now. But I want to talk to you, and I don’t want to leave if you’re upset.”

  “I’m fine, Holt.”

  It’s a lie. Maybe the biggest lie I’ve ever told because I’m not all right.

  My heart is broken. My confidence is wounded. My soul hurts from having been led to paradise but being forbidden to enter.

  His phone breaks the silence with its shrill ring. Again. He looks down at the screen and glares as he silences it.

  “You better go,” I tell him. So I can go.

  He sighs. “I can’t do this right now, Blaire. I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t ask you to do anything. As a matter of fact, I asked you to leave. Multiple times.”

  “No, but you’re a guest in my house, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  The way he says guest in my house sends a rush of cold water through my veins.

  What does that even mean? Does it mean while I thought we were forging an emotional connection that he was just toying with me in his free time?

  What the fuck?

  My jaw sets. “Well, on that note, I’m sorry for being such a distraction and taking up so much of your energy. I’m aware you don’t have any to spare.”

  His eyes light up as he puts two-and-two together.

  There’s no need to confirm his suspicions. He knows I heard him and Oliver.

  “Fuck,” he says under his breath.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “I’m leaving anyway.”

  “Don’t say it like that,” he says.

  “Like what?” I swallow hard. “Like you said it?”

  I bite my lip as a form of self-protection. I don’t want to cry in front of him any more than I already have. I don’t want to get angry. I want to remain as calm as I can and then extricate myself from this situation.

  Hopefully, in one piece.

  “That was all …” He looks at the ceiling. His nostrils flare as he pushes out a hasty breath. “That wasn’t for you to hear.”

  “Trust me. I didn’t want to hear it.”

  His shoulders fall. “Let me explain.”

  “You have explained enough.” I fight the tickle in my nose that comes before tears. “I know I’m a time suck and—”

  “Blaire.”

  “And my emotions are such a burden. It’s been said before,” I say through the rivers streaming down my face.

  He starts toward me, but I hold up a hand.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asks, holding his arms out the sides. His phone rings again in his right hand.

  “I don’t want you to do anything.”

  “No. Clearly, you do. What is it? Do you want me to cancel this meeting? It’s for a project I’ve worked on for months. My family and multitudes of other families who work for us all depend on me. Do you have any idea what that pressure is like?”

  “Nope. I just keep people from going to prison for their entire lives when they’re innocent. I have no idea about pressure. Talk to me about it.”

  He stares at me as though he’s unsure what to say.

  I raise a brow. “Okay. I’ll be honest. You know what I wanted from you? I wanted you to want me, okay?”

  My words crack. I grab the railing with all my might.

  Holt’s phone rings again. “We don’t have time for this conversation.”

  “Of course, we don’t.”

  “Dammit, Blaire. I’m trying here. I can’t be everything to everyone. I’ve been telling you that all along. It’s why I don’t bring people here. It’s why I don’t have relationships because this shit happens, and I have to let someone down.”

  I get it. He’s right. He has to let someone down. But I would’ve been happy to wait for him to come home later and have a conversation about our future.

  Except he doesn’t want one.

  “It’s clear that you’re not going to be anything to me and my emotional baggage,” I say.

  “Can we just do this later? Please,” he asks as his phone buzzes in his hand. His nostrils flare as he presses the button to silence the noise. “I cannot manage all of this right now.”

  “Again, I didn’t ask you to stay. As a matter of fact,” I say, feeling a surge of energy pass through my body, “I didn’t ask for any of this. Any of it. You asked for my number. You pressed me into dinner. You invited me to your home, and you took me to meet your family. And you asked me, implored me to share my feelings with you. That’s all on you, Holt. Every bit of it.”

  The words strengthen my resolve. The pain turns to anger as I peer down at him from my perch.

  “If you didn’t want me to fall in love with you, then you shouldn’t have …” My voice trails off as I realize what I’ve said.

  Holt’s eyes go wide.

  “I didn’t realize …” He starts toward me but stops. “I didn’t … Oh, fuck.”

  “Yeah. Well, now you know.”

  He glances so quickly at his watch that I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t paying acute attention.

  “Just go on,” I tell him.

  “This conversation isn’t over.”

  Tears sting my eyes again. “I think it is.”

  He throws his hands up and growls into the air.

  I can feel his frustration rippling through the room. I want to tell him we’ll talk about this later.

  But we won’t. Because there’s nothing left to be said.

  Even if there was, I wouldn’t begin to share it with him now.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him, my voice softer. “And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you ever lied to me. I just … hoped.”

  His body stills in the doorway. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches me with an expression I can’t name.

  “I’m sorry, Blaire. Just … tell me you’ll be here when I get back. Please.”

  He backs away slowly. My heart breaks as I accept his final answer. Whether he wants to admit it or not, this is over.

  Maybe it never started.

  I’ve never felt smaller. I’ve never felt as vulnerable and raw as I do standing in front of this man.

  It won’t happen again.

  “Please be here when I get back,” he repeats.

  I know he needs to go, and that his decision has already been made, so I nod.

  I only hold back the tears long enough for the door to close behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Holt

  Every muscle in my whole fucking body hurts.

  I loosen my tie as I speed too fast down Cobblestone Way.

  Blaire hasn’t answered my calls or texts all day. It’s unusual for her, and despite knowing that she’s pissed at me—rightfully so—I’m surprised. I almost sent Larissa to my house to make sure she didn’t leave, but I don’t really think she would’ve.

  She said she loves me. She couldn’t leave after that. Could she?

  I shiver as a chill blasts through my body.

  I step harder on the gas pedal.

  I’d hoped some time apart could give us some space to figure this shit out. How it got so convoluted, I’ll never know.

  That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

  It got convoluted the moment I saw her.

  I slow down for a man on a bike. He gives me a wave, and I wave back. He seems so carefree as he pedals down our street and enjoys the evening sun, and it pisses a part of me off.

  Why does he get to enjoy his night when I don’t?

  “Because you’re a fucking idiot,” I say aloud.

  I don’t know how our conversation will go when I get home. I also don’t know how much of my chat with Oliver she heard. But what I do know is that I need her to understand the context. I need her to know why I said those things—because I don’t want
to hurt her.

  Which I inadvertently already did.

  I slam my palm against the steering wheel.

  My stomach twists as I think about her overhearing any of what I said to my brother. I can’t even remember all of what was verbalized in the hallway. I only know that I made it clear that I can’t be what Blaire needs.

  And that remains true.

  “If you didn’t want me to fall in love with you …”

  Surely, she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t have. Blaire Gibson wouldn’t fall in love with a guy like me—a man so busy in his own life that he can’t take care of hers.

  She has to know she deserves better. How could she not realize how special she is? How could she not demand more for herself? She needs someone who won’t walk out on her like Jack.

  And like me.

  A bubble of rage fills my stomach as I acknowledge what I’ve done.

  I left her when she needed me. And whether I had something else to do or not, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what my options were, but I should’ve figured something out. There were too many irons in the fire, too many people calling. Too much to handle all at the same time.

  I grip the steering wheel.

  My phone rings through my car, and I answer it without looking to see who it is.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Just heard from Graham Landry,” Oliver says. “Tomorrow morning at ten. We’re heading to their offices. He wants our final offer.”

  I’ve waited for this day for weeks. It should feel like a milestone getting to the finish line.

  I sigh.

  Oliver, Wade, Boone, and I killed it today. Even though I was distracted as fuck, I was able to promise myself I’d have time to make things right with Blaire later and focus. We filled every potential hole, came up with a viable solution to every argument Landry could make, and secured an investor who will make things much smoother.

  Every time my brain flipped to her, I told myself to set it to the side until I got home. Then she gets my undivided attention, and we can figure this out.

  “We’re ready,” I say to Oliver, removing my tie altogether and tossing it onto the passenger’s seat. “I feel really good about this.”

  “The deck area Wade added in from Blaire’s suggestion is the feather in our cap.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Landry will love that. And so will we in the long run.”

  “For sure.” I work my neck back and forth. “I’ll be in the office early. Around four thirty in the morning. Maybe five. If you want to come in and do a last-minute run-through, I’ll be there.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  My house approaches. With every inch I get closer, the harder my heart pounds.

  “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, Ollie.”

  “Hey, real quick.” Ollie takes a deep breath. “I’ve not brought up the whole thing at Mom’s because I can tell you’re dealing with something else. But I want you to know that I always have your back. And I’m sorry if I pissed you off. I just want what’s best for you, Holt.”

  I slump in my seat. I didn’t know I needed to hear that today, but I did. It’s apparent.

  “Thanks, Ollie. I … It’s been a day.”

  “And we can hash it out whenever you’re ready. Or not.”

  I grin. “Thanks, brother.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Bye.”

  I end the call and turn sharply into my driveway. As I fly toward the house, I scan the area for Blaire’s rental car.

  It’s gone.

  Shit.

  My car barely comes to a stop before I jump out. I leave the door wide open as I jog up the stairs, punch the keycode in, and step inside the foyer.

  I can still see Blaire standing on the stairs with those tragic black streaks running down her face.

  My heart squeezes so tight that I brace my chest with my hand.

  She’s gone.

  I don’t have to go to the guest room to see if her suitcase is there to know it isn’t.

  It’s as if the house itself knows she’s left and is mourning. The sun fails to stream in the windows and is instead disturbed by a host of clouds. The usual warmth of the space has faded into a tempered blur.

  I walk the hallway to the kitchen. Her laughter fills my mind as I pass by Coy’s painting that hangs on the wall.

  I pour myself a drink and sit at the kitchen island. The room feels bigger than I’ve ever noticed before. I wonder why I ever wanted a house this big just for me. There was a reason. I just can’t remember it.

  There’s a hollowness in my chest that I can’t escape. No rationalization or excuses will make the void disappear.

  I fucked her over, even if I didn’t mean to.

  Just like I did Kendra.

  And just like Jack did her.

  The bourbon bites at my throat as I drink. I welcome the burn.

  “If you didn’t want me to fall in love with you …”

  Her words keep coming back to me. It hurts a little more each time.

  Many women have told me they loved me over the course of my life, but I never felt like any of them actually did. They might have been infatuated with me or in lust with me, but none of them loved me. Not really.

  But none of them said it like Blaire, either.

  It wasn’t moaned in the heat of passion. It wasn’t armed as a weapon. It wasn’t used in an attempt to manipulate me into doing something.

  She said it from a place deep inside her. It didn’t give her joy to say it. It caused her pain.

  It caused her pain because I didn’t say it back.

  I tip up my glass and take another long swallow.

  My phone rings on the counter. I plan to let it go to voicemail, but my curiosity gets the best of me, and I glance at the screen.

  “Hey, Riss,” I say, my voice slower and heavier than usual.

  She sighs. “It’s as bad as he said, huh?”

  “Who?”

  “Ollie.”

  I take another drink. The ice cubes clink in the glass.

  “Are you drinking?” she asks.

  “Yup.”

  “Oh. Grand. This should be fun.”

  I chuckle. “What do you want, you little pain in my ass?”

  “I want to offer my services.”

  “Um …”

  “Oh, no! Not like that. Ew. Gross. No. Forget I said that.” She gags on the other end for my amusement. “What I meant was that I’m calling to see if you need a female brain to help make your man brain work.”

  “My man brain works just fine, thank you very much.”

  “Eh,” she says. “I’m voting no on that.”

  I stand and head to the counter. The bourbon is still sitting next to the ticket stubs from Coy’s concert and the gummy bear wrapper Blaire finished off last night.

  I pick up the tickets and hold them in my hands.

  I’m taken back to that night with Blaire and my family. I was so nervous about taking her around my brothers. Every time I pictured it in my head, they’d say something stupid, and she’d be offended. Or she’d realize my mother has been trying to marry me off for the past ten years and bail. But then I realized I didn’t want to go without her.

  I was so damn proud to be there with her, to show her off to my parents and brothers. And not because she was some kind of physical trophy, although she was a knockout in that tight black shirt, but because she was classy and smart. And just for that night, she was mine.

  She was there with me as a man she met in the airport. She didn’t give a shit about my money or what my last name means here or that Coy was my brother—hell, she didn’t even know. She was just attending an event with a guy who she deemed worthy of being with.

  Me.

  My spirits fall.

  “Okay, so, Oliver said that you’re all messed up today. Wanna talk about it?” Riss asks.

  “No, I don’t wanna talk about it. I want to go drink some more and tr
y to forget it.”

  “Big mistake, buddy.”

  “It was a big mistake to answer your call.”

  I pour myself a drink and wonder if I can hang up on her. I don’t because she’d just show up at my house and let herself in.

  She’s done it before.

  “Blaire left,” I say.

  It comes out harsh and cold, but I don’t know how to make it sound less blunt.

  Riss sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. “Well, this puts things in perspective.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  It’s a lie. I’m not fine. But I don’t know what else to say. Do I admit I’m the fucking disaster I feel like I am? That won’t help anyone.

  “Sometimes, it’s easier to pretend that you don’t care than to admit that you’re dying inside,” she says.

  “That’s poetic.”

  She sighs. “Well, I guess I see why Blaire left now.”

  “Oh, do you?”

  “Yes. You’re an asshole.”

  “True enough.” I take a long drink before smacking my lips together. “Is that all you called for?”

  “Sure. That’s it. Good luck recovering from this one.”

  I lean against the counter and shake my head. “This will go away. I just need to put some time and distance between Blaire and me.”

  “Sorry to break it to you, but real feelings don’t go away.”

  “You’re on fire tonight with the inspirational bullshit.”

  “Just here to help.”

  “Well, you’re not.”

  I walk to the window and look out at the pool. Blaire’s favorite chair sits empty. All that remains from her time sitting out there is a bright red hair elastic on the deck.

  It takes everything I have not to go get it.

  I turn away. I can’t look at it.

  “Let me ask you something,” I say to my cousin. “What is love?”

  She laughs.

  “Forget it,” I say.

  “No! No, no, no. I just didn’t expect that.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe that you were going to ask me why you should go get her? I was totally ready to convince you. I had a speech queued up and ready to go.”

  I grin. “I’m not going after her.”

 

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