by Ciz, Alley
“Why?”
“Lessens the chance of breaking it.”
She nodded.
“Another mistake people make is only using their arms.”
“Yeah? And what else do you use? Your legs?”
His lips twitched at the heavy sarcasm.
“Yes, smartass. Your legs, your hips, hell, your entire body should be used. It increases the force of your strike, no matter how much smaller you are than your opponent.”
Her brow scrunched, taking in the information.
“Now, hit me.”
Holly didn’t move.
“Come on, Cupcake. Hit me.” He tapped his chest.
She did as he asked, bumping one pec with a lackluster punch.
“You can do better than that.”
Another swing, this one a bit stronger.
“Not great, but better. This time swivel your hips with the movement.”
Swack.
“Again.”
Swack.
“Again.”
SWACK.
That one had him rubbing his chest.
There was his little fighter. Nice to see her show up.
Chapter Twenty-One
Holly sang along with Kelly Clarkson’s “Wrapped in Red” as she put the finishing touches on the brown sugar topping to the blueberry crumbles that had become a fan favorite at EP. Though she loved Halloween—all holidays were meant to be celebrated in the fullest, in her book—she couldn’t wait for the day the calendar flipped to November first, and it became sociably acceptable for her to crank up the yuletide tunes.
In her old life, she only ever got to listen to the contemporary pop and rock versions of the classics when she had her earbuds in. God forbid she played anything other than the sleep-inducing, old school originals, and don’t even get her started on putting the volume dial anywhere above a four. Blasphemy.
“You really do love your pop Christmas music don’t you?” Vince spoke from the doorway. He might as well put a plaque on the wall since he'd stood there every day that week.
“It makes me happy.” She shrugged.
“I can see that.”
Hello there, Mr. Dimple. Can you be a dear and go away before you make me stupid?
“Plus, I never really got to blast these versions…before…” She trailed off, but Vince picked up on what she didn’t say.
They hadn’t talked much about her life in Connecticut, but she’d shared enough for him to know when she was enjoying little freedoms her new situation afforded her.
“I swear, if there was music for every holiday, you would make a playlist for it,” Kyle said as he walked into the kitchen.
She finished off the last crumble before turning to face her best friend, hands on hips. “You know, Ky, I thought we were friends.”
A crinkle formed between his blond brows. “We are. You’re my bestie.”
A small part of her got all squishy at the affection in the words. In the mean-girl social strata of private schools, it had been difficult to make true friends. Finding someone who didn’t judge her by how her last name could boost their own status was hard enough. But it was even tougher to hold on to the good ones if her family didn't deem them appropriate to associate with.
Her father worked hard to keep her under his thumb. Kyle was the only friend he didn’t throw out of her life like last season’s designer duds, and that didn’t last once Kyle became open about his sexuality.
“Okay, bestie.” She leveled him with her fiercest look, which lost its effectiveness when he reached out to brush some of the crumble mixture from her nose. She seriously had no idea how she managed it. “Why didn’t you tell me that Jamie Hawke frequents your shop?”
The rockstar and his husband were once again having coffee at EP.
“It never came up.” Kyle pinched some of the crumble topping between his fingers with a shrug.
“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not once in, oh, about the bajillion conversations we’ve had did you ever get the opportunity to relay this information?”
“Glad to see I’m not the only one you give a hard time, Cupcake.” Vince chuckled, still looking too hot for his own good in his gym shorts, BTU hoodie and backward cap.
Every day he said they were going on a date.
And every day she informed him they weren’t.
Instead he resorted to trying to drive her insane with sexual tension. So potent he could do it from across the room.
“Don’t even start, Muffin.” She held up a finger in warning.
He said nothing, only smirking more, dimple deepening.
That was what he did.
He didn’t pressure her or drag her into a closet—or bedroom—to have his wicked way with her, but he was always there.
Always watching.
Looking hot AF.
Radiating his alphaness like the sun did its rays.
She was gradually losing her mind, one naughty look and teasing touch at a time.
“Wait a second.” Kyle swung a finger between her and Vince. “Why are you all the way over there? Afraid if you get too close you two will start going at it like bunnies?”
“No,” she said at the same time Vince said, “Yes.”
“Interesting,” Kyle mused.
Before she could debate the status of her “relationship” with Vince, Jamie burst into the room, hugging the wall.
“Jamie?” Vince said.
The singer whipped around but relaxed when he saw it was Vince. “Hey, Vin.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Jam?” Sammy’s voice called out before he could answer.
“In here," Jamie called back.
“You good?” Sammy asked as he came in the kitchen door and looked him over with a critical eye.
“Yeah, Spins. Stop worrying.”
“Can’t help it.” Sammy still watched Jamie closely, as if evaluating the truth of his words. Holly got the feeling he wasn’t a person you wanted to cross.
“You know,” a deep voice called out as yet another hot guy stepped into the room. What did they put in the water in this state? “Just because you’re practically my brother-in-law doesn’t mean your skinny ass gets preferential treatment.”
“Look, I may not be an ex-frogman like yourself, Just, but my ass is anything but skinny.” Jamie grabbed a butt cheek in each of his hands. “I do my squats.”
“You’re a prima donna, Hawke.”
“Pfft. Furthest thing from it, McClain.”
“Talk all the shit you want, Just. You know Maddey was the one to call you, not us. And we all know none of us turn down a request from a Covenette,” Sammy said.
Holly snorted. The Covenettes were quickly becoming her favorite people in life. It was highly entertaining how much power they wielded. They were the standard she aspired to for her new life.
Light green eyes tracked to her immediately from mister hot cop. “Well, hello there.” He reached out, taking one of her smaller hands in his much larger ones. “Who might you be, beautiful?” His eyes shifted over to Kyle standing next to her. “And why do you keep this one hidden in the back?”
She felt her cheeks heat in a blush. “I’m Holly.”
“Justin.” The smile he sent her way dripped with charm.
“Justin,” Vince said, moving to her free side.
He didn’t grab her or tug her away from Justin like she expected, but it was still a possessive move. One Justin noted based on the way his eyes widened and the slight nod he gave.
“Now,” Justin clapped Jamie on the shoulder. “How about we get your ass out of here before the small club out there turns into a mob?”
“Aww, do you have a crush on me, McClain?” Jamie batted his eyelashes playfully. “That’s the second time you’ve brought up my ass in as many minutes. I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m a happily married man.”
“McClain?” Holly asked.
“Maddey’s oldest brother,” Vince said
as they watched the others banter.
“Why did I leave the Navy and come home? No respect.” Justin tilted his face to the ceiling as if speaking directly to God.
“You know, for a guy who made it through BUD/S, you sure are a pussy,” Sammy said with a laugh as everyone but Vince exited the kitchen.
“So…” he said, shifting to lean against the counter. “Where do you want to go to dinner tonight?”
“Dinner?” she asked, putting the finishing touches on the crumbles and loading them into the oven.
“Yeah, for our date.” He moved, this time staying close. “It will have to be late. I have a meeting with the director of the women’s shelter after training, and I’m not sure how long that will be.”
He was persistent, she’d give him that.
“Well, I’ll”—she pointed to her chest—“be having dinner with my roommates tonight, seeing as I’m not going on a date with you.”
“Come on, Cupcake. Don’t leave me hanging. I’m always jazzed after these meetings.”
“No.” Her tone was firm, her resolve not so much.
“Cupcake.” He pouted, and it was annoyingly adorable on him.
“Not happening.” She sucked in a breath as he brushed something from her cheek.
“Buzzkill.”
She shrugged. “Tell me why you’ll be jazzed.”
He resumed his perch against the counter, arms and ankles crossed. “It’s exciting to see my plans come to fruition. This new shelter has been a dream of mine for a few years now. I can’t believe I’m finally in the position to make it a reality.”
She paused, measuring cup of flour held in the air as she took a moment to study this enigma of a man in front of her. There was a depth to him she didn’t think many people outside his circle got to see.
“You weren’t kidding when you called it a passion project, were you?”
He spoke with such fervor anytime the subject came up.
“I may have originally gotten involved with everything because of JD and her ex, but meeting these women, learning their struggles, and watching them overcome them has been one of the most inspiring things I have ever witnessed. The system itself is flawed, but I’m in a place—at least I will be after this fight—to help tip the scales in their favor.”
Oh, my heart.
“I may not know your whole story.” He placed a finger over her lips when she started to reply. “And one day, you’ll trust me enough to tell me. But I want to help the people who don’t have a Kyle in their life.”
“Vince.”
“I know, babe.”
What did he know? She didn’t even know what she meant, how could he?
The meaningful expression transformed back to the cocky one he usually wore before he bent to kiss her hard and swift.
“I should start taking bets on if that will happen before or after you finally go on a date with me.”
With that, he was gone, leaving her more confused than if she were hit by one of Hermione’s Confundus Charms.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Another day, another visit from Vince, another date rejection from Holly.
He was persistent, and she was waffling.
Thank god for lunch break time restrictions. She wasn’t sure if he would ever leave if he didn’t.
The biggest problem? She wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
“Hey, Sweets,” Lyle said as she stepped behind the counter after walking Vince out.
“Hey, Fiddler.”
His brow furrowed. “Fiddler?”
“Yeah, you know. Like Fiddler on the Roof. Seeing as you and my so-called best friend keep going all ‘Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match,’ on me, I figured it was appropriate.”
“Oooh…you have jokes now. I’ll remember that.” He tapped his temple with a finger.
She pointed to the front display case. “Anything specific you need me to whip up?”
“Nope. You’re off the clock for the next few hours.”
She looked at the Deathly Hallows-shaped clock on the wall. Her shift wasn't over yet.
“You have plans. And I know you don’t have any pending bakery orders, so you are dismissed for the day.” He waved a hand in front of him. “Ah, your chariot awaits.”
She followed the line of his arm. Maddey stood, laptop bag slung over her shoulder, beaming at them.
“Come on, girl. Get your stuff. You’re coming with us.”
“Us?” she questioned.
“Yup, us. Time for you to come out with The Coven. We have an appointment for manis and pedis.”
No female in her right mind would turn down mani-pedis. She mentally patted herself on the back for shaving the day before. When the weather turned cold it was always a crapshoot if she did. The fact that her legs didn’t resemble the long weeds of the wild had everything to do with her keeping up her personal grooming and nothing to do with wanting to be prepared should a certain Dauntless-looking male manage to get her out of her clothes. No. Nope. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
Hell, who was she kidding? It had everything to do with him.
The nail salon was two blocks down from Espresso Patronum, and the rest of the girls were already picking their colors when they arrived.
OPI’s Samurai Breaks a Nail—a bright, pretty purple—in hand, she toed off her pink Chucks, rolled up her leggings, and settled into a chair between Rocky and Maddey. Becky finished off their row and Jordan, Skye, Gemma and Beth were across from them.
“God, I love half days.” Beth sighed, melting into her massage chair.
“I don’t know how you teach, B. I would end up killing the first hormonal teenager who got on my bad side,” Skye said.
“You figure it out.” Beth shrugged. “Besides, it’s not much different keeping the athletes you represent in line.”
“This is true,” Jordan agreed. “Some of the guys can be real divas.”
“Truth. Managing fragile male egos is more of a full-time job then running The Steele Maker,” Becky added.
“Well, from everything I’ve witnessed, you all call the shots,” Holly said as the nail tech rubbed her calf with an exfoliating scrub. “I heard of The Coven long before I even knew what it was.”
She was so appreciative of how they made her feel included, not once treating her like a newcomer to the group. What she found hardest to wrap her head around was how down to earth and genuine they were. With sports contracts and endorsement deals being public record, she knew most of them were connected to people with some serious money, yet they acted nothing like her family.
“So, Hol.” Maddey shifted in her seat to see her better. “Give us all the deets on what Kyle was like growing up.”
“Well.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts in a way that wouldn’t give too much of her own history away. “Honestly he was pretty much exactly how you know him now, except closeted, I guess.”
“He really didn’t come out until he brought Lyle home?” Skye’s eyes widened.
“That would be a hard no.”
“His family disowned him over it?” Maddey’s question came out as a whisper. Holly knew Sammy had been her best friend growing up, but with a much different support system when he came out. As in, he actually had one.
“Oh, yeah. It was ugly. But I was so proud of him. He stayed eerily calm the whole time, and when they threatened to disown him and cut him off if he didn’t drop Lyle and marry a proper lady, he walked out of there with his head held high. He’s pretty much my hero.”
That day was filled with so much ugly and ignorance, it still baffled her how people could think, let alone say, some of the things the Huntingtons had.
The Huntingtons and the Vanderbuilts were cut from the same hand-spun silk cloth. Kyle’s family even encouraged him to date her since they had always been close and she came from the “right” bloodlines.
Their families didn’t understand that their blood was as red as everyone else's.
&n
bsp; Saying Kyle was her hero wasn’t an exaggeration. The resilience he presented that day to not only come out, but to stand his ground, not crumbling under the weight of the silver spoon he was born with, took Herculean strength.
It took her four more years before she finally found the fortitude to do the same.
“I didn’t think people actually disowned other people,” Rocky said.
“Oh, yeah. Happens all the time in our world. It was the oldest trick in the book to get a child to fall in line before their trust fund kicked in.”
“What was it like?” Gemma asked.
“Have you guys ever watched Gossip Girl or Gilmore Girls?” Seven heads nodded. “So it was like the uppity, DAR world of Chilton and Emily Gilmore, with the over-the-top, spoiled, entitled feel of Gossip Girl. Parties like the ones Chuck Bass would have were a real thing most weekends. I'm glad Kyle left when he did. What are your families like?”
She changed the subject, not wanting to risk them digging deeper, and the ladies followed her lead. Topics switched at a rapid pace after that, some serious, some ridiculous and some just straight-up weird.
So this is what it’s like to have girlfriends?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Vince and his roommates made their way across the hall to 12A to find its three occupants in the kitchen. Holly fit in seamlessly. It looked like there was another Covenette in the making. Just my luck.
“You ate?” Gemma asked the moment she spotted him, his nutrition drill sergeant.
“Yes, ma’am.” He snapped his heels together at attention and gave her a salute.
“Mock me all you want, smartass. But not once since I took over managing your culinary needs have you actually felt like you were cutting weight before a fight. So don’t play.”
The was no arguing that fact. Even before Gemma had officially graduated from BTU with a degree in nutrition, she had managed all his meal planning and prep. His weight, even when not officially training for a fight, had been more consistent, making him stronger when it came time for weight cuts.
Gemma pulled pre-made parfaits of Greek yogurt, fresh fruit and her custom-blended granola and passed them out to Deck and Ray, leaving a third on the counter for Gage’s arrival.
