“No snow in Aspen this year,” Ethan says. “Thought we’d surprise you.”
Holt shakes his head and lets a smile slip. “You fucking did that, for sure.” He pulls them both into a huge hug. He’s only about an inch taller than them, but there’s no mistaking who the big brother is, or how much the three of them love each other.
“Got anything to eat?” Ethan asks. “Eli wouldn’t stop on the drive in from Fayetteville.”
“I told you to eat beforehand,” Eli says.
And the two of them begin picking at each other. Holt pushes them into the kitchen, telling them he’ll be there in a minute, then shuts the bedroom door, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were coming,” Holt says.
I peek down under the sheets at my state of undress, hoping they didn’t get a good look. “It’s alright. I’ll go.”
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
I just slip out of bed, reaching for my clothes, and get dressed as quick as I can. It’s a holiday—a day to spend with family. “Just call me later.” My head down, I slip out the bedroom door, finding his brothers at the kitchen island, each with a box of cereal in front of them.
“You aren’t leaving, are you?” one of them asks, but I can’t tell who’s who anymore.
“Well, I just live one house over, so . . .”
“You totally can’t do the walk of shame on Thanksgiving.”
“I mean, a shame fuck you are not!”
“Eli!” Holt barks from behind me, causing me to jump a little. They turn their attention back to their bowls. Holt steps towards me, his fingers running across my cheek, and says, “Stay.”
I look back at his brothers, who are obviously trying not to stare at us. “But . . .”
“Stay!” he says again, but this time it sounds like an order. And it makes me happy. “I want you with me.”
“Okay.”
“Ethan? Eli?” he says. “Annalyse is staying. Don’t let me hear you mention her and fuck in the same sentence. Got it?” They both laugh. Holt gives my hand a little squeeze. “I’ve got to shower. Be right back.”
Holt’s barely out of ear shot when one of the twins asks, “So how long have you been fucking our brother?”
Guess they follow Holt’s orders as well as I do. “None of your fucking business,” I say, and they both laugh again. “How can I tell you two apart?”
One twin points to his left eyebrow—a small scar. I walk over to get a closer look. “That’s the easiest way. Fell off my dirt bike when I was eight.”
“So you’re Ethan?” I ask, and he nods. “My dick is also bigger than . . .”
Eli slugs his arm. “Fuck that.”
They continue to debate the length and girth of their genitals until it gets so heated, I’m afraid they are going to whip it out. Just when I think the maturity level can’t go any lower, Eli busts out with a penis joke. “Hey, do you know the difference between a penis and a bonus?” Ethan bites his bottom lip, shaking his head. “Your wife will always blow your bonus!”
“Should I be offended?” I ask, but they aren’t listening.
“You are so lame. Annalyse didn’t even laugh.” Ethan says, tapping my shoulder. “What did the penis say to the vagina?”
I think I’ve stumbled into a frat house. “Don’t know.”
“Don’t make me come in there!” Ethan says, smirking. I must have the humor of a frat boy because I crack up laughing. He gives me a high five while shooting Eli the bird. “So not only do I have the biggest dick, but I tell better jokes.”
“We all know who has the biggest dick in this family,” Holt laughs, coming into the room.
“You mean, who is the biggest dick!” Eli says, earning him a slap on the skull. “Hey, I’m not the one boning my neighbor.”
Holt looks like he’s about to blow a gasket, and snaps, “Eli! Ethan! I need a word.”
“Went too far, douchebag,” Ethan says, elbowing Eli as they follow Holt outside to the back patio.
Right now, they look more like his sons than his baby brothers, their eyes cast down, shoulders slumped. I hope Holt’s not too hard on them. They’re typical college guys. Which also means they will be starving in about two hours. No way the cereal is going to hold them over. I’m checking to see whether Holt has anything for an impromptu lunch when I see the picture of me on Santa’s lap on the refrigerator door. I look ridiculous, and I can’t believe he put it there.
Smiling ear to ear, I open up his freezer, hoping he has a turkey in there somewhere. No such luck. He’s got a few steaks, some frozen fries, and ice cream. His fridge isn’t much better. Our plan to eat leftovers isn’t going to work. And I know that my freezer and fridge aren’t much better. Meg’s stash is long gone.
The guys all come back inside. “Not sure what we’re going to do about Thanksgiving,” I say.
Eli and Ethan both look up at me. “Sorry,” they both mumble at the same time.
“That’s not necessary,” I say.
They both immediately perk back up, each throwing an arm around my shoulder. The weight of their arms pushing me down, we look into the open freezer and fridge together. “I’m hungry now,” Ethan says. “There’s steak, fries, and eggs.”
“I’ll grill the steaks,” Holt says.
“I’ve got the eggs,” Ethan says.
“I’m on fry patrol,” Eli laughs out.
Suddenly, there is a flurry of movement and muscles all around me. “I’ll take care of dessert and setting the table,” I say. Holt whizzes by me, giving me a little wink and planting a kiss on my lips. I pick up my phone and text Judy and Carla. I’m surrounded by dicks. Help me!
Thank God they’re home. They totally save my ass with some frozen cookie dough. Then I run by Meg’s house to get some things for the table. I doubt Holt has a tablecloth or something for a centerpiece. Throwing the cookies in the oven, I lean back against the counter and watch the guys.
Holt looks so relaxed, joking around with his brothers. It feels like a family, and strangely, I don’t feel like odd woman out. I avoided most holidays after Logan died, except when Meg begged and begged. Yet somehow, it seems natural for me to be here—like they’re my family, too, these three guys, two of whom I just met.
I spread the tablecloth out and begin to make a centerpiece out of some pinecones, a candle, and some twigs, then I finish up placing the dishes and napkins. Standing back, it’s missing something. Quickly, I light the candle then look up, finding the guys staring at me.
“I didn’t know you were doing all that,” Holt says quietly, and I see a change in his brothers, too.
“It’s Thanksgiving,” I say, trying to keep my voice upbeat, which is hard considering how drawn their faces are.
“Looks just like the last Thanksgiving Mom did,” Eli says.
“We haven’t set the table like that for a meal since,” Ethan adds.
Holt places a hand on each of their shoulders, and I lean down to blow out the candle. “I’ll take it . . .”
“Don’t,” they all say together.
“Feels like Mom’s here,” Eli says, walking over and wrapping his arms around me. Ethan gets in on the hug, and I look over at Holt, smiling at the three of us. I’m hardly old enough to be any sort of mother figure to these boys, but at least they aren’t talking about my ass or their dicks anymore. Holt takes my hand, forcing me out of their embrace and into his arms. He leans over, kissing the top of my head.
“Should we change?” Eli asks. “Remember how Mom used to make us wear nice clothes?”
“Hated that!” Ethan says.
“Me, too,” Holt says. “Not changing.”
We don’t eat the traditional Thanksgiving meal, but it doesn’t matter to any of us. I hadn’t celebrated a Thanksgiving in forever and neither had they. So we did it our way, and it was perfect. And I had the food baby to prove it, after eating way too many cookies.
“So you want to tell me the real reason you aren�
��t in Aspen?” Holt asks, eyeing his brothers. “I checked the weather. There was ten inches of fresh powder this morning.” Ethan glances at Eli, whose eyes are on the ground. “I swear to God, you better not be failing school or gambling my money away. You’re already on the five-year plan for college.”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Ethan says.
“Eli, you want to tell me what’s going on?” Holt asks.
“Just drop it,” he says. “We aren’t failing, and I’ll pay you back for the plane tickets.”
“It’s not about the money,” Holt says. “You know that.”
“His girlfriend dumped him,” Ethan says.
Eli exhales. Poor kid looks like his heart is a mangled mess. “Sorry that happened, Eli. Sucks, I know,” Holt says, giving my hand a little squeeze.
Eli pushes his plate away and glances up at Holt. “Now I kind of understand why you swore women off all these years—after what Celeste did.”
Celeste? Sounds like such a nice, normal, pleasant name. Holt’s eyes dart to mine. He doesn’t say a word, but his order is clear—don’t ask.
“Stop moping,” Ethan says to Eli. “She’s not the only girl in the world. It’s time you get over that virginity crush!”
Eli shakes his head, laughing a little. “She’s going on the ski trip. Just didn’t want to deal with it.”
“Fuck her!” Ethan says, holding up his glass to Eli and Holt. “The Miller boys don’t need women and their drama.”
“Right on, fuck her!” Eli repeats, clanking glasses with his brothers.
Did they forget I’m in the room? Did they forget I’m a woman? When Meg and I need to cheer each other up, it usually involves talking, crying, and maybe some ice cream or wine. I’ve got no clue what weird male ritual this is, but clearly Eli needs his brothers right now. I scoot out of my chair to give some space and start cleaning up.
Holt grabs my waist, pulling me down into his lap. “I’ll do that.”
“You won’t do it right, anyway,” Eli says. “Don’t you know how damn anal retentive Holt is?”
“I’m aware,” I say.
“I just like things in their place,” Holt says, his gray eyes suddenly dull.
“Have you always been that way?” I ask. Suddenly, the room freezes. Ethan and Eli both look at me with wide eyes. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” Holt says, urging me off his lap. “I just like everything and everyone where they’re supposed to be. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Okay, but I am worried,” I say, touching his arm. “About you.”
“Don’t be,” he says, pulling away and beginning to clean up.
Eli and Ethan glance at each other then give me the most sympathetic looks. No one’s looked at me like that since Logan’s funeral. Whatever I’m up against with Holt must rival that kind of pain.
Holt’s mood stays pretty dark the rest of the day. He’s not even trying to hide it, which is not like him. People who live in the fire, like us, are very good at faking emotions. You have to be, or else everyone around you would feel awkward. I don’t want Ethan and Eli to feel that way, so I’m faking it for both of us.
We watch football games and drink beer, and swap funny Holt stories. My favorite was the one about his first date at the zoo when a bird crapped all over him. The twins and I laughed out loud, but Holt barely even cracked a smile.
His flames burning, I feel them spreading—feel my own mood darkening. I don’t want to get pulled back in. I can’t let that happen. “Think I’ll turn in for the night,” I say, turning towards Holt’s bedroom.
“I’ll walk you home,” Holt says.
What? We haven’t spent a night apart in weeks. I don’t even bother going to get my laptop. I just head for the door, slip on my shoes, and walk out. Holt catches me right as I make it to the bottom of his patio.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“You dismissing me like I’m some sort of plaything that you’re sick of!” I say.
“Annalyse, that’s not fair at all. My little brothers are here. It would set a bad example for you to stay the night.”
“A bad example?” I shout. “Newsflash, they walked in on me naked in your bed this morning. Think the cat is out of the bag.”
“Them knowing and doing it when they are sleeping next door are different things,” he says.
I can see his point, but I know there’s more to it. “So this has nothing to do with whoever Celeste is?”
“No, it doesn’t,” he says, his words flat.
“What’s in the drawer?” I ask. I’m sick of not knowing what makes him tick. Our relationship is starting to feel like a ménage à trois gone horribly wrong—me, him, and the past. He gives me a little headshake. “That’s it? That’s all you got?” He just stares at me with those eyes of his.
“I told you that you had to be alright with me not talking about . . .”
“Right, small talk and screwing, that was our deal.” I glare at him. “Look at me and tell me that’s all this is. That’s all I am. Remember what I told you. When you were sick of my pussy, just tell me.”
“You’re completely overreacting.”
I actually laugh. Why do guys always say bullshit things like this when women are upset? “I need more, Holt. I can’t keep living in the dark. You don’t tell me shit, and I just can’t do it anymore. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you.”
“You know me better than anyone,” he says.
“Your cock,” I yell. “That’s the part of you I know.”
“Baby,” he says—in that way I know is just a way to appease me—but it’s not going to work.
I step away and say, “The pleasure wasn’t worth the pain.”
*
The tears start as soon as I turn my back to him. I’m grateful for that. At least he didn’t see me cry. Unfortunately, Judy and Carla saw the whole thing from their back patio. They ambush me before I make it to my stairs.
“No way,” Judy says. “You are not going to be alone after that.”
Trying to hide my face, I turn away. “No, please I want to . . .” I see Holt disappear back into his house. He really doesn’t give a shit.
“Come on,” Carla says. “Maybe we can turn you now!” Judy swats her. “Dicks are the devil. Ever look at the devil’s horns—two big red dicks coming out of his head.”
I laugh so hard, snot shoots right out of my nose. “God, I’m a mess.” Judy and Carla keep me laughing through my tears the rest of the night.
But when the sun comes up the next morning, so does the reality that I’m going to have to live next to Holt for the next month until Meg comes home. And that’s not going to be easy.
There is some annual post-Thanksgiving volleyball game taking place today in the connected backyards by the lake. Judy and Carla are already outside helping Doug and Chad get the net ready. To make matters worse, it’s boys versus girls.
When I walk outside, Holt’s eyes are already on me. He, Ethan, Eli, and Doug are playing against Judy, Carla, me, and Chad—who’s taking his pregnant wife’s spot. It hardly seems like a fair game. Rachel and her baby boys are serving as official scorekeepers.
We huddle up on our sides, but I’m not paying a lick of attention. Instead, Holt and I are staring at each other. Well, Holt is staring. I’m more throwing daggers—and other weapons—at him with my eyes.
“How do you want to play this?” Judy asks.
“I don’t care if we win,” I say. “Just aim everything at Holt’s head!”
“Good plan,” Carla says.
“What did I miss?” Chad asks.
“If you’re going to be an honorary woman, you can’t ask stupid questions!” Carla says, tossing me the volleyball.
I’ve never been good at sports. That was always Meg’s strength, so I close my eyes briefly and call upon some help. “Okay, Logan, help me out here,” I whisper softly.
Holding the ball out in front of me, I pull my othe
r arm back then hit it as hard as I can. Logan must have been listening, and he must be pissed at Holt, too, because the ball fires right at Holt, who barely ducks in time.
The bastard has the balls to smile at me. So I do the same thing again, only this time he’s ready and easily hits it back. Lucky for me, Judy is pissed and spikes it right at his head. We keep this up for the next fifteen minutes or so—Chad even joins in targeting Holt. It was wonderful. Ethan, Eli, and Doug barely touch the ball the entire game.
We lose, but I don’t care. Holt had to dive out of the way often enough that he’s a damn mess. He may have screwed me, but I just pounded his ass into the dirt. Smiling, I strut right past him towards my house.
“Annalyse, can we . . .” Holt starts, but I don’t stop.
“Whatever the hell you did to her,” Ethan says, “you should fix it.”
“We agreed not to fix each other,” Holt says.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HOLT
My mood is so terrible my baby brothers decide to head back up to school a day early. Walking them outside to their car, I hear Annalyse grunting. Usually that would be music to my ears, her little moans and groans of pleasure, but she’s currently yanking our Christmas tree out of her front door, needles and branches flying everywhere.
“What the hell is she doing?” Eli asks. “Christmas is still a month away. Shouldn’t she be pulling the tree inside?”
My heart fucking hurts so bad. We were supposed to decorate that tree together. “Should we help her?” Ethan asks.
I just shake my head, watching her struggle against the tree. Ethan and Eli walk over, and she pops up, wiping the hair out of her face. She doesn’t even bother looking at me, but I know she knows I’m there. They both give her a huge hug, and my arms start to ache.
I can’t take my eyes off her as Ethan and Eli head back over, and we say goodbye. They glance back at her, now lifting our tree onto two saw horses, storming into her garage and coming out with a damn saw.
“She’s chopping up our tree,” I say, unable to believe it.
“It’s better than her chopping up your nuts,” Eli says.
He’s right about that. It’s been so long since I’ve been in any kind of relationship, that I’d forgotten how crazy a pissed-off female can be. “He lost his balls a long time ago,” Ethan says. I’m going to kick his ass for that comment, and he sees the fury in my eyes. He holds his hands up. “Seriously, man, she’s perfect for you, and you’re fucking around. What the hell?”
The Reason for Me Page 19
