Hold on to Her (Only Her Series Book 2)

by Olivia Stephen

  We’re seated quickly. Thank God. Because at least now I can concentrate on the wine list and the menu instead of the intoxicating woman sitting across from me.

  The waiter offers his recommendations and shares with us the specials for the evening, then walks away, giving us time to make our choices.

  “Everything sounds delicious. What do you think you’re having?” she asks, again not knowing what that simple question just sounded like in my horny mind.

  You.

  “Probably lasagna. It’s always been a favorite. My mom usually makes it when I go home to visit.”

  “Then I’ll try that too. Do you go home to see your family often?”

  The waiter interrupts us, so I take it upon myself to order for us both.

  “We’d like the lasagna, Italian dressing on the salads, and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”

  “Excellent choice,” the waiter replies, taking our menus, and as he leaves, I return my attention to Sarah.

  “So, you asked about my family. I have two sisters, and of course, Mom and Dad. The five of us grew up outside of Durham. One sister is older, one is younger. It was like a rose between two thorns,” I say jokingly. “I remember growing up thinking how unlucky I was being flanked by two sisters and having no brothers, until I met Cole in middle school. He’s been like a brother to me forever. I talk to Mom and Dad often, but we don’t get together as much as we used to.”

  “It must be nice having a close family.” Her head drops, and there’s a hint of sadness in her voice. I want to ask her to elaborate on that, but I think I need to give it some time. While we’ve been friends for months now, it’s been very casual. She doesn’t ask personal questions and has never indicated she wanted to know a whole lot about my life. I’ve allowed her to keep me at arm’s length long enough.

  I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine, and look at her beautiful face. There is a vacancy in her eyes, a look that’s distant and hollow, like the eyes of a plastic baby doll. No emotion.

  Shit.

  “Tell me about your teaching. I want to know what it’s like managing seven-year-olds all day.” She smiles and her expression quickly changes from sorrow to warmth and love. This, this is her passion.

  “Oh my God. It’s the best. I’ve always loved working with children, and I knew very early on I wanted to teach. These kids...they’re like little sponges. They soak up everything I teach them, and ask for more. It’s a good age because generally they haven’t been exposed to all the bad things that happen in the world. They just love life. At least, most of them anyway.”

  Sarah continues to describe her typical days with twenty second graders with so much enthusiasm and compassion that it’s difficult not to be utterly entranced by her excitement. She lives for these kids.

  “Shit, Liam. I’m sorry. I’m totally monopolizing this conversation. You just need to tell me to shut up because I could go on and on forever, you know,” she says, giggling and waving her hand around in front of her. The most beautiful sunrise imaginable can’t compare to watching this magnificent woman talk about her life with her students. Her eyes are wide, her smile is captivating, and her hands gesture, sometimes wildly, as she becomes engrossed in her storytelling. I’m not completely sure she even noticed the waiter bring the bottle of wine and pour our glasses.

  “You are so beautiful.” Redness creeps from her neck, up past her cheeks and reaches her eyes, making them shine. And that...that right there is truly spellbinding. She’s got me. At this moment, she has me in the palm of her hand.

  “Those students are so lucky to have someone like you to love them and teach them. The way you are with kids, you’ll make a wonderful mother someday, Sarah.”

  Her smile wanes, her mood morphing from lively to sorrowful in an instant, and I’m nervous about what I just said. She loves kids, so why wouldn’t she want some of her own? Jesus, I’ve fucked this up already, and I don’t even know how. This girl is like a puzzle I’m trying to put together, only she’s holding critical pieces so the picture is making no sense.

  “Sarah? Are you okay?” I ask hesitantly.

  “I’m fine. Good.” She takes a drink of her wine and quickly follows it with another. And another.

  “Hey. Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. You didn’t. I’m just tired all of a sudden. Probably the wine, you know. Could we get our meals to go?”

  Just then, the waiter brings our plates of lasagna, setting the hot dishes on the table.

  “Will there be anything else at the moment?” he asks.

  “No, we’re good. Thank you.” I say, hoping I can get her to stay.

  The waiter departs and we’re left alone, her looking at me and me looking at her...searching for an answer. An answer I know I won’t get tonight.

  She lifts her fork, swirls around her lasagna, and then she finally takes a bite. Maybe food is the key here because a smile hints at her lips.

  “Good?” I ask, attempting to draw her back into conversation.

  “Delicious. Maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

  Silence.

  “I’m sorry, Liam. There’s just more...”

  I give her a few seconds to elaborate, but nothing. “More what, sweetheart?”

  “Never mind. It’s okay. Sometimes I wish certain memories were just bad nightmares instead of being real.” Her eyes search mine, unsure and nervous.

  “I’m a good listener. I have two sisters, so I am highly qualified to assist with problems of the female population.”

  That draws a laugh and her muscles visibly relax. “Is that right?”

  “Without question. Believe me, I’ve overheard more than my fair share of female conversation growing up. There were some discussions that were off-limits, but with my quiet, ninja-like movements and reflexes, I was privy to gossip and chit-chat that afterwards I actually wished I’d never heard.”

  Another chuckle and a quick, but forced smile. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

  “So, we finish the lasagna and wine here, darlin’?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  Thank fuck.

  The plates of pasta and bottle of wine are empty. We stick to generic conversation, which means I’m still getting nowhere. Of course, getting her to dinner is a big step, sure, but I want to know her. All of her. Not just the trivial, impersonal things. I take her hand again as we leave the restaurant and walk out into the crisp evening air. Opening her door gives me a chance to be close again, so I take the opportunity to delicately kiss her cheek. Her genuine smile returns as I pull away, heading for her house, all the while having this inner dialogue in my head as to what the hell I’ll do when I get her there.

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah

  I don’t do nervous with men. Yet, here I sit, wondering why my fingers can’t keep still and why they’re twisting the hem of my sweater. Repeatedly. My knees bounce and I feel uneasiness when I breathe. This is the third piece of gum I pull out of my purse and begin to chew, along with the other two pieces.

  “Sweetheart, three pieces of gum won’t do a thing to minimize the garlic you just ate.” Liam’s hand reaches for mine with the intention of calming me down, but that’ll never happen when he’s touching me...anywhere. “How about you relax and not worry about anything right now. I’m just taking you home.”

  So, he isn’t coming in. Maybe he isn’t interested anymore. Maybe it was the way I reacted when he talked about me becoming a mom. Like a freak, right? I couldn’t help it, though. I try to keep all that shit locked down and not let my emotions get the best of me when people talk about babies and motherhood. Zane’s super sperm is going to knock up Raina before long, so I need to prepare myself for that event. She talks about all the sex they have, and I just know one of those little suckers will drill its way right through the latex barrier, and boom! She’ll be pregnant. It’s going to happen sooner rather than later, so I need to get over my past and just deal.

  �
��Um, would you like to come in...for a little...I mean, for a drink...or something?” My conversations skills are clearly lacking here. Probably due to the lack of oxygen in my brain when he gets so close. Yeah. That must be it.

  “I would.”

  That’s it? Just, I would?

  “Okay. So...okay,” I say, shaking my head up and down like an idiot. I used to be able to hang out with Liam and not feel like such an oddball. Suddenly, it’s like I’m fourteen again and I’m going on my first date to the high school homecoming dance with the cute boy and a mouth full of braces.

  Liam pulls his car into my driveway, then gets out and comes around to open my door, which is something Daniel never did for me. I totally can get my own door for sure, but I could also get used to this feeling of being taken care of. It’s endearing and sweet.

  Then suddenly I remember I don’t want to be taken care of. I can take care of myself. So now those two thoughts are battling it out in my head, like Battlebots, and I’m more aggravated with myself for even considering I need a man around to open a stupid door for me.

  We walk up onto the porch and I pull out the key, letting us both into the house.

  Once inside, I offer him a drink. The offering I so clearly stumbled over in the car a few minutes ago. I pour us both a glass of wine and we make our way over to the sofa. He makes me smile when he plops himself direct center so that no matter where I sit, I’ll be close to him. He grins like the Cheshire Cat, knowing I know he did it on purpose.

  It’s funny he seems so at home here. He’s comfortable in my space and, oddly enough, I quite like that. He holds his glass in one hand, resting his other arm on the back of the sofa. I choose my side and pull both legs up underneath me.

  “So, the minor glitch at dinner. What’s up?”

  “You’re direct.”

  “You have no idea. Tell me.”

  “I don’t think that’s really any of your business. We’re not dating, let alone exclusively.”

  “We will be soon enough. What happened at dinner?”

  Jesus, he’s a demanding somebody. This is territory I’m not ready to enter with him. First of all, the crap with Daniel and my sister is very difficult for me to talk about, but mostly, what will he think of me getting pregnant as a teenager? That I’m irresponsible or that I was some slut trying to trap Daniel into marriage? The only option I have right now is to leave out the pregnancy part. Technically, it’s not a lie to not tell the whole story, right?

  “It’s a long story, and it was a long time ago.” I try pulling off an it-wasn’t-a-big-deal vibe, but he’s not buying it. Not sure what made me think he would. He’s too perceptive.

  “Clearly still affects you, babe, so you can tell me.”

  A deep breath is the only thing, besides the wine, that calms me at the moment. I look over at Liam and he sits so still, so attentive. For the first time in a long time, I feel like someone, beside Raina, is truly interested in what I have to say. Interested in me. Waiting for me, with no other motive than to just listen.

  Here goes nothing.

  “I dated a guy, Daniel, my senior year of high school. I’d always had a crush on him growing up. He lived at the other end of my neighborhood. We didn’t really grow up together, but I’d known him for a long time, so when he finally asked me out, I was so excited, you know? My sister is a few years older than me, and she kept begging me not to date him. She said he had a reputation and I shouldn’t get involved with him.”

  Before I move further into this story, a newsflash–she was a liar.

  “Fast forward to end of senior year, a week after prom. I was out shopping and picked up a Duke sweatshirt for Daniel. That’s where he was going to school that fall. I got home early. Too early. Daniel was in my bed...” A lone tear makes its way down my cheek. Before I can brush it away, Liam reaches over, and wipes it away with his thumb. He takes my glass, putting it on the coffee table with his, and pulls me close to him, surrounding me with strength.

  “Sweetheart, you don’t have to finish. I’m so sorry.”

  “No. I need to get this out. You wanted to hear it, so just listen.” Okay, so maybe a little part of me is demanding too.

  “He was in bed with my sister.” My heart is nearly in my throat as I speak those few words.

  Another tear falls.

  And another.

  And another.

  Each one is brushed away with a gentle swipe to my cheek. Brushed away as if he were not allowing tears for another man to fall in front of him. Brushed away as if he were ridding me entirely of the past and Daniel’s betrayal.

  Liam’s body radiates a strong physical presence and when I lean into him, I fall apart, knowing he will be there to catch me when I do.

  He takes his strong fingers and weaves them through my hair, kissing the top of my head. “That never should have happened to you. But I can tell you this.” He tugs gently at my hair, causing me to look directly at him. His eyes are narrowed and rigid, the customary softness gone. “That shit says more about Daniel and your sister, and the kind of people they are, than it will ever say about you. No one deserves that. Least of all, someone like you.”

  “Like me? Me, as in breakable? Or foolish?” I snap.

  “Absolutely not. You, like in kind-hearted and loving and thoughtful...and beautiful.”

  “There are some men out there who would completely disagree with that statement.”

  Liam rolls his eyes and cocks his head to the side. “Can we not talk about other men you’ve been with while you’re in my arms?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

  “I know. And just so you know, I’m not those other men, Sarah. This is not a one-off for me, so please don’t pretend that it is for you either. Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself.” Liam pulls me so I’m sitting on his lap now, and I get the feeling he isn’t done with the inquisition. There’s a seriousness to his eyes and his tone. “I know there’s more, but I think you’ve shared enough for now, so I won’t pry any further. One day, sweetheart, you’ll tell me the whole story.”

  Did I say he was perceptive? I think I meant psychic. He’s a psychic and a hypnotist. My stomach churns at the thought of him hearing the whole story. In no way is he going to understand what I went through. That little ending from the whole story will go with me to my grave.

  Sitting on Liam’s lap, being encased in his arms, is so relaxing. This isn’t what I’m used to, but I’ll admit it feels wonderful. We sit a while in silence, so much so that I nearly fall asleep as the tips of his fingers gently caress my arm. His body shakes slightly with laughter when all I can do is moan.

  Soon I feel him shifting, reaching around and lightly smacking me on the ass, catching me completely by surprise. “Now, up you get,” he says as he stands, allowing my feet to hit the floor. He holds on to me for a moment until I’m steady.

  “I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you tomorrow. Cole and I play at the pub, so I’ll pick you up around eight.”

  “You’re not staying? I have more wine, if that helps.”

  “Gotta go, babe.” He begins putting on his jacket and I kind of panic. I don’t want him to go, but I’m not sure exactly how to get him to stay. So, I go for the usual...it always works.

  “But, I thought...you know, I could show you the bedroom?” I say, running my finger up and down his chest. His firm, hard, sexy chest.

  Liam grabs my finger, kissing the tip. “I know exactly what you thought, and I’ll say it again. I’m not like the other men you’ve been with. I won’t be.” He leans in, brushing the stray hair from my eyes, making my skin nearly burn where his fingers touched me. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna see where this attraction leads. We’re more than friends, darlin’, so you need to catch up. I’m not here for a one-night stand, nor am I interested in a friends-with-benefits arrangement.” His lips kiss my forehead and my eyes lazily drift shut at the gentleness of it. “I will see you tomorrow at eight.”
>
  “Eight. Yeah.” That’s all I can manage to get out. The scent of his sandalwood cologne and the firmness of his voice have me under some kind of spell. What the hell is he doing to me?

  Chapter Nine

  Liam

  Cole and I sit in his living room, preparing to get a little practice in before tonight. We’ve got a few new songs to add to the set list, and we need to rehearse the music and the lyrics. Unfortunately, the only thing on my mind is Sarah. I’ve thought of nothing else since I left her last night, and believe me when I say I did not want to leave. She offered to show me her bedroom–code for let’s have sex–and if I thought we were never going to be more than friends, I’d have totally taken her up on that. I was rock hard by the time I got to the car, and the monster was ready to come out and play. It’s hard, literally, not thinking with my dick because, full disclosure here, that’s what I did for years as a teenager. I won’t be that guy with Sarah. She means too much.

  “Earth to Liam. Man, what the hell? Where’s your head today?” His voice seems distant because my mind is obviously on my hot little brunette.

  “Sorry, man. I’m good. Let’s get on this.”

  “You’re not good. You’re out in left fucking field. You need to just bang her and get it over with.”

  Red. That’s all I see.

  “What the hell, Cole? Are you serious right now?” I can’t believe he said that. I’m up out of my seat, running my hands through my hair so I don’t grab him by the collar and shake the shit out of him. “You’re talking about Sarah, not some random groupie you decide to drag home for a quick roll. Show some respect.”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry, man.” Both hands go in the air as if to surrender. “You’re really into her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. And I’m having a hard time making her believe I’m not like every other asshole she’s been with. I won’t be a one-and-done with her,” I reply, pacing back and forth. “Plus, the shit she shared with me last night is gonna make it even harder to get through to her.”