Hold on to Her (Only Her Series Book 2)

by Olivia Stephen

  “You need to come in for a drink, babe. Pleeeeaaase?”

  “What the hell, Raina? Are you, like, ten?”

  “Just one drink, then you can go home. You can even have water if you want.”

  I’m trying to toss Raina out the door, but she’s digging her heels in and won’t get the hell out. God, why do I put up with her?

  “If I go in for one drink, will you promise me you’ll stop this you really need a man bullshit? It ain’t happening.”

  “Hmmm...perhaps.” I’d like to silly-slap that smile right off her gorgeous face, but I laugh instead.

  Honestly, I don’t know why I bother trying to fight her on this. She won’t let it go, and most likely, she’d text me the rest of the night with the play-by-play of Liam and Cole’s antics. And that shit I do not need to hear.

  “One drink, then I’m going home. I have toilets to clean and laundry to do and dust to wipe.”

  Raina just laughs, and I know that evil laugh is the one that means she is so not going to let this Liam and me thing drop.

  We enter the pub together, and I’m quickly reminded of the real reason I didn’t want to come here tonight. Because there is Liam, all sexy with his boots, ripped jeans, and a black tee that fits him like a damn glove. His smile becomes wider as he settles his eyes on me, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

  Damn it.

  Raina nearly stumbles as I reach for her arm, pulling her quickly to the bar for a seat as far away from the stage as I can possibly get. Only, too bad for me that every single damn seat in this place is visible from the stage, and when I quickly glance at said stage, Liam is chuckling, and shaking his head as he plucks his guitar with firm, smooth movements. All of a sudden, my eyes zero in on those fingers and my mind races with all the things they could do, causing me to wiggle around on my barstool uncomfortably at the thought.

  One drink. I can do this. One drink, then I can get home and away from this temptation. No man is worth the kind of heartache I’ve endured in the past. I won’t let him in. I can’t. All because of Daniel.

  Daniel.

  Will I ever be able to put all that to rest? He is precisely the reason why I rarely go back home to visit family. Watching him with my sister and their little girl is too much. To this day, neither of them know I had just learned I was pregnant when I walked in on him with my sister. Granted, the pregnancy was an accident, and I wasn’t ready to be a mother that young because I could barely take care of myself. Yet, the baby was real, the baby was Daniel’s, but Daniel was no longer mine. He belonged to my sister then and still does today.

  My mind continues to drift off to places I don’t want it to go.

  Miscarriage.

  “Your baby’s gone, sweetie.”

  “You’ll be fine, sweetie.”

  “It was just meant to be this way, sweetie.”

  Fuck.

  For the record, I didn’t mean to order a second drink, or a third, or a fourth. It just felt too good to keep drinking and too good to stop remembering.

  Liam and Cole keep playing, and one song leads to another. One drink leads to another, and before I know it, I’ve had way too much.

  In the far distance, I can still hear Liam’s melodic voice singing a David Nail cover tune.

  Chapter Five

  Liam

  Watching Sarah put away drink after drink is making me very nervous, and because I’m playing, there’s nothing I can do. There is something troubling her, and I know it’s not just what happened between the two of us days ago. She drifts off occasionally, to a place where it seems she doesn’t want to be. Her darkened eyes squint, her forehead wrinkles, and she shakes her head, as if trying to banish the unpleasant thoughts from her mind. She’s angry.

  I’m angry too, but certainly not at her. Coping with hurt is different for different people, but it’s obvious she’s not coping at all. She’s struggling.

  Once our final set is finished, I ask Cole to tear down the equipment as I slide my guitar into its case. This old, blue acoustic has been mine for over twelve years, so I take very good care of it. My father taught me to play on this guitar and I treasure each of those moments with him. My family is still very close, but I don’t see them as often as I’d like.

  “Damn, man. I always clean up. I’ve got two blondes waiting for me.” He points them out to me, and all I can do is shake my head. He’s got a different woman every night he’s here. “You should take one off my hands. Wouldn’t be a hardship, you know.”

  “Not on your life. They’ll have to wait...for just you. I want no parts of that. And for the record, I cleaned up the last two times we played.”

  “Shit,” he grumbles, as he turns to unplug amps and roll up cords. I hop off the stage and head to the bar where I see Sarah on the barstool giggling, snorting almost, at something funny Raina just said to her. She nearly falls out of her seat, but I catch her just in time before she tumbles.

  “Whoa...Sarah, you okay?”

  “Oh my God, Liam!” She turns unsteadily toward me. Her beautiful eyes look empty, drunk. “Your singing is soooo good. Your voice sounds like an angel.”

  Jesus. She’s just about shitfaced.

  “Babe, what have you been drinking?” I’m trying my best to get her situated in her seat when Raina comes back from the restroom.

  “How much did she drink, Raina?”

  “She’s fine. She needs to let loose a little. She’s only had a few.”

  “Oh, shoo,” Sarah chirps, waving her hand in my direction. “Just had one drink. Definitely not Jack and Coke. It’s burns. Did you know Jack and Coke burns when it goes down, Liam? Okay, two. I promise I only came in for one because you just do that to me. You make me need just one drink so then I can leave, and I don’t have to see you, and so I don’t have to feel anymore.”

  So I don’t have to feel anymore.

  She delivers that line with such sadness in her eyes that it rips me right in two. She absolutely feels something for me. I knew it that night at her house when I kissed her. A woman does not kiss with that much passion if she doesn’t feel something. I should totally leave her alone, leave her with Raina. Let her work through all her shit on her own and keep my face out of her business. That would be the smart thing to do.

  I’ve never been the smart one of the family, though, and therein lies the problem.

  I take Sarah’s hand and whisper to Raina that I’m taking her home. The smile that lights up Raina’s face makes me laugh. She’s been trying to push Sarah and me together almost from the time we met. To be honest, when I first met Raina and Sarah, my initial reaction was a bit more, shall we say, visceral to Sarah. Her eyes, however, told me she was completely unavailable. That was my cue to stay away. So, I had drinks with Raina, but I knew immediately we’d only ever be friends. I recognized very early on how she looked at Zane.

  “Let’s go, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

  “Liam, sweetheart,” she says, mimicking my voice. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Because I know what will happen. You’ll make me like you more than I already do. You’ll make me fall in love with you and you’ll break my heart. Because they all do, you know.”

  And there’s the dagger to my heart.

  “Let me help you get home. I promise I’ll leave as soon as you get in the door.” The funny thing about that statement is I actually believe I’ll keep that promise. I’m not entirely sure who I’m trying to kid here.

  “You promise?” she asks, walking alongside me on unsteady legs, holding on to me like I’m her savior, as we make our way to the front entrance. I refuse to answer and she doesn’t ask again.

  The coolness of the night air blows in as I open the door, the light of the moon brightening up the sidewalk. My arm instinctively goes around her, pulling her close to keep her warm when she shivers. If only she would let me in, let me take care of her like I am right now. I can be that guy for her, I’m certain.

  “My car is right up here. Can you m
ake it?”

  “I’m fine.” A curt reply.

  Now, I know I’m a man, and there are a shit ton of things I do not know about women, even with two sisters, but what I do know is when a woman says she’s fine, what she’s really saying is...well, I don’t know what she’s really saying. All I know is that she is not, in fact, fine.

  “Okay. Let me get the door for you.” I have no idea how to even reply to the “I’m fine” statement, but at least I can be a gentleman.

  Once I get around to my side of the car, I hesitate for just a moment, take a deep breath, and then slide into the driver’s seat. I have to do a double take when I glance in Sarah’s direction and see that she is out. Like a light. Her piercing green eyes are closed, that beautiful face isn’t twisted up in frustration, and for the first time in weeks, she looks utterly relaxed. I can’t stop myself as I reach out, caressing her porcelain skin. My thumb draws circles around her cheek and I almost lose it when she leans into my hand, snuggling in for warmth and comfort.

  “Baby, you are going to be the death of me,” I whisper. “You better be ready, because this time, I’m making you mine.” I lean across the console and kiss her forehead, leaving my lips there for a second longer than I should.

  “Liam?” It’s a whimper from her luscious lips.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers in a very sleepy voice.

  “Never. Never in a million years.”

  Chapter Six

  Sarah

  My head. Jesus, my head aches.

  I turn slowly in my bed and reach for the drink I always put on my nightstand before I go to sleep. It’s not there. Why isn’t there a drink on my stand?

  Holy cannoli! My head is ready to explode.

  Oh, God. Last night.

  “Jeez. What the hell did I drink?” I say to myself.

  “It wasn’t Jack and Coke. At least that’s what you told me.”

  I spin around too quickly, nearly tumbling out of bed. Oh, shit. Liam.

  “Whoa there. Careful, babe.”

  Why the hell is he in my bedroom, sitting in my overstuffed reading chair? I grab for the sheets and the blanket, covering myself as quickly as possible. I need to slow way the hell down because my head is spinning from moving too fast. After a few seconds, I’m able to sit up and ask him what the hell he’s doing in my bedroom, in my chair.

  “Well, once I managed to get you into the house, I thought it best to put you in your bed where you’d be more comfortable.” Why is he smirking?

  “Then why are you still here?” Looking sexy and hot like you always do.

  “You were drunk. There was no way I was leaving you by yourself in that condition. And if I recall correctly, you asked me, several times, in fact, if I would crawl into bed with you and ‘snuggle.’”

  “Snuggle? You are so full of shit. There’s no way I said snuggle. I don’t even like snuggling.” I turn away, obstinately crossing my arms and letting out a huff. Snuggling is excessively personal and way too, I don’t know, romantic or intimate or some shit. So, no to the snuggling.

  “Suit yourself. I’m just repeating what you asked. Anyway, I need to get going.” He rises from the chair and stretches his arms into the air, his shirt slipping out of his jeans that sit low on his perfect hips, showing me a glimpse of his defined abs, and that happy trail all women know leads to paradise. “I just wanted to be sure you were okay when you woke up. And just so you know, I slept here in the chair and not in your bed. So, no snuggling last night.”

  He casually walks closer to my side of the bed, putting both hands on either side of my body, dipping the mattress slightly and leaning in close. “Sweetheart, when I’m finally in this bed beside you, it won’t be to snuggle. There are so many more exciting things to do here, don’t you think?”

  I can’t breathe. Literally, I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe. It’s in then out, right?

  He retreats slightly and uses his hand to tuck a few stray hairs behind my ear. The one he just whispered into. The whispering that sounded just like sex. Slow, sensual sex. Lazy sex with Liam.

  I think he hypnotized me. He’s a fucking hypnotist, I know it.

  “I’m heading out. I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner around six. I’ll see you then, beautiful.” And just like that, he’s walking out of my room.

  Why am I still sitting here? Who the hell does he think he is? How is it that I’m wearing just my panties and a T-shirt? Did he take my clothes off last night?

  “Wait. No.” Scrambling out of bed, I run toward the door. “I’m not going on a date with you Liam. I told you the other night–”

  “Yes, you are,” he promptly turns and interrupts.

  “Wait...what?” Liam is not a bossy person, so where the hell did this come from? And why do I find it hot?

  “You are going to dinner with me. End of. It’s just dinner, not a date. You have to eat, right? So, you’ll eat with me,” he says so casually, smiling like an idiot.

  I lift my chin in an act of defiance and cross my arms, almost furious. “You can’t just demand that I go eat with you, Liam. That’s not how it works.” Within two, maybe three seconds tops, my arms fall to my sides, and I take a few steps back as he saunters toward me in that lazy, sexy way he does. I need to look away, but I’m frozen.

  This isn’t me. I don’t just follow orders when a man belts them out. They listen to me and do what I say. That’s how it works.

  He threads his fingers through my hair at the nape of my neck ever so gently, forcing me to look up at him, and so help me I can’t not look. And the breathing thing? I’m having a hard time with that again.

  “It’s dinner. I’ll be back at six and you’ll be ready. Dress is casual. We’re going to the new Italian place.” He kisses me on the forehead and the moment I can no longer feel his touch, I miss it. I don’t like that. At all.

  He opens the door to leave then stops for a moment. He turns his head and his eyes squint, but remain fixed on mine. I’ve never felt so exposed or vulnerable in my life. He’s seeing me. Every fault, every fear, every nuance of my entire being. Every emotion I think I’ve ever felt must be on full display right now for him to see.

  His eyes relax, and then all he does is simply smile.

  And I smile back.

  Apparently, I’m going to dinner with Liam at six. We’re having Italian. And it’s not a date.

  Chapter Seven

  Liam

  Giving myself a mental pep talk makes me sound like a pussy. A big one, in fact. But I’m readying myself to knock on Sarah’s door and take her to dinner. This morning, I decided to take matters into my own hands and explain to her how things were gonna go. The limb I went out on didn’t break and I didn’t fall flat...thank fuck. She is a feisty woman, no doubt, and I was a bit apprehensive with how that approach was going be perceived. But apparently, there’s a tiny bit of submissiveness hiding inside that headstrong personality of hers. Her response to my demands launched me to a completely new level of surprised.

  At six o’clock sharp, my hand raps on her door, and I’m unprepared for what I see when said door opens. Jesus, she’s stunning. I take my time inspecting every inch of her, from her over-the-knee boots to her black leggings, up to those firm tits covered with a black tight sweater and opened jean jacket. Her hair is piled on top of her head in some messy bun thing that I know for a fact most women spend hours perfecting. A few strands of her soft hair frame her beautiful face while her vibrant green eyes play shy with mine, blinking a few times.

  “Hey,” is about all I can get out now, nearly tripping over my words.

  “Hey, yourself. You ready to go?”

  “Um...yes. Absolutely.”

  I take her hand in mine and usher her to the car, opening the door for her. Chivalry is not dead, as far as I’m concerned. If I didn’t open a car door for a lady, my mother would have my nuts in a sling. I know very well Sarah’s capable of opening her own door. S
he doesn’t need a man to do it for her, no woman does. But to me, it’s a sign of respect and kindness, and her smile tells me she agrees.

  Once I’m behind the wheel and pulling out of her driveway, I reach across the console and take her hand in mine, rubbing her wrist with my thumb. I love touching her. The slight hitch in her breath is a good indication she likes it too. I have to chuckle to myself, thinking that if this is all it took, I’d have grabbed her hand and rubbed it a long fucking time ago.

  “Is Italian okay with you?”

  “This morning, it sounded to me like I didn’t have much of a choice, now did it?”

  Awfully snarky, but I’ll go with it.

  “You always have a choice. If you really didn’t want to have dinner with me tonight, you wouldn’t have been dressed and ready when I got to your house, now would you?”

  “Smart-ass,” she whispers, just loud enough for me to make out what she said. I laugh, knowing that if I want any chance with this girl, I’ve got to stay on my game. She is not going to make this easy on me. What she doesn’t know, is that I’ve never backed down from a challenge yet, and I sure as hell won’t lose this one. I’ve never been so captivated by a woman in my life.

  The new Italian place is nearly fifteen minutes from her house, and we arrive about five minutes before the reservation time. Taking her hand, we walk into the restaurant, and immediately we’re overcome with the scents of garlic and pasta and sauces. It smells heavenly.

  “I haven’t tried this place yet, but if it tastes as good as it smells, I can hardly wait.”

  I’d like to point out that there is absolutely nothing sexual about what she just said. However, I need to close my eyes and think of painting, or baseball, or fixing my car, because the visual of smelling and tasting her assaults my mind and I can’t go there right now. We’re in a restaurant, not her bedroom. See what this woman does to me?