Hold Me Like This (A second chance, small town romance) (Love Me Like This Book 3)

by Lola StVil

  “Done,” Cannon says.

  He looks relieved. Maybe his doubts about Dick really aren’t about him wanting Holden and me to get together so desperately. Maybe he really is concerned for me. I mean, until today when I blurted out a yes to Dick, I had similar misgivings about him myself. The way I always felt like he was mentally fucking me whenever we talked. The way I caught him watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking. But then today, before that look, he admitted he sometimes acts like an ass, and he seemed different. Shy almost.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Where are you going anyway?” he asks. “Somewhere fancy I imagine?”

  “I don’t actually know,” I admit. “All I know is Dick is picking me up at seven.”

  “You don’t have to say anything else. I’ll be there. Just text me when you have the details. Now, that’s your hair and makeup done. You need to get dressed. I don’t think the jeans and sneakers will cut it for a date.”

  He stands back, admiring his handiwork. I look myself over critically. Cannon is a true artist. My face is perfectly contoured and highlighted, my eyes seem to sparkle, and my hair hangs perfectly in place.

  “Grey?” Cannon prompts me. “Clothes?”

  I nod, but I don’t move.

  “Like now,” Cannon says.

  I frown. “I’ve got another hour and a half yet,” I say.

  “Exactly. That’s no time at all. While you might not be trying to impress Dick the Prick, I need to make an effort in case Mr. Right happens to be there, and looking fabulous takes time. I need to go home and find something to wear.”

  “Go.” I laugh. “I can take it from here. I’m sure I can find something to throw on.”

  Cannon looks aghast.

  “Throw on? Oh hell no, honey. I didn’t work my magic to have you throw any old thing on. But you’re right though. I do need to go so I can figure out what to wear. I want something that says ready to roll without saying totally easy. Something that says I’m approachable and yet mysterious, serious but fun.”

  “Oh God, promise me you won’t be wearing a bowtie.” I laugh.

  “Grey, I’m gay, not a fifty-year-old British university lecturer. I can assure you there won’t be a bowtie in sight. I want to make an impression that says fashion, not fail. Now, I’m going.”

  I can’t help but laugh as I watch Cannon rush off to his car, still shaking his head at my suggestion he might wear a bowtie. As if he would.

  I ask myself again if I’m doing the right thing. Instead of rehashing all of my doubts, all of my feelings, I make a simple decision. I tell myself I am doing the right thing and I’ll go with the flow and let tonight make my choice for me.

  One of two things will happen tonight, and I’ll work with whatever I get. Either I’ll realize I really can move on from Holden, or I’ll realize I can’t. And if I can’t, then maybe I can find a way to let him in again.

  I’m pretty sure I already know which way it will go, but there’s no harm in checking. After all, if I do decide to let Holden back in again, it won’t be just a fling. It’ll be the real deal, and I have to be sure I can commit to him. I don’t want to lead him on only to discover I can’t do it.

  Once I open my mind to the possibility of finding a way forward with Holden, I start to feel better. My mind isn’t spinning as much and things are clearer. I realize that stopping myself from even entertaining the idea of giving Holden a chance is making me crazy. At the same time, it makes me dread tonight even more. I know I’m not into Dick deep down.

  I shake my head. Get it together, Grey. You’re doing this, and you’re doing it with an open mind. You’re going to give Dick a chance, and at least that way, you’ll know for sure that Holden is the only way.

  I nod, confirming my decision. I go to the kitchen and sit in there while I down another couple of glasses of wine, hoping the alcohol will make me feel less nervous about tonight. It doesn’t work, even when I open the second bottle, but it does pass the time, and I realize with a start it’s six thirty and I’m still not dressed yet.

  I walk through the living room, picking up the pace to the bedroom. I don’t want to think about the night I spent with Holden. Thinking about that will do nothing to encourage me to forget about him for the night.

  I open my closet and stand in front of it, eyeing my clothes. I purse my lips while I consider my options. Glam? Dressed down? I settle for somewhere in the middle of the two, and I pull out a knee-length blue half sleeve dress with a tan belt that says I’ve made an effort, but not too much of one. I add my favorite tan knee-high heeled boots that always make me feel good about myself. I spritz on some perfume and stand up and check my overall look.

  I look what Cannon would call boring, and what I would call standoffish in an understated way. It’s not a perfect look, but it’ll do. It hopefully sends out the right message—I’m giving you a chance, but I’m not planning on hopping into bed with you. It’s not like I have time to change anyway, so it’ll have to work.

  My cell phone buzzes. It’s Dick.

  I’m here.

  I don’t bother to reply. Instead, I pull up Cannon’s thread.

  Are you ready?

  My phone buzzes again. In the alley behind the diner.

  BTW— Strike one— Dick didn’t even come to the door, he texted me saying he’s outside.

  Holden would never have sat outside and texted me to say he was here; he would have made the effort to come to the door, to make me feel special.

  I feel kind of bad for comparing Dick to Holden. I know deep down that even if Dick turns out to be a wonderful date, he can never live up to what I have with Holden. I tell myself to put Holden out of my mind, and I grab my purse and with a sigh, head out of the door. The reply from Cannon comes as I make my way down the stairs.

  I’m ready. Just tell me where to go. Dick by name, dick by nature, remember.

  I roll my eyes. Cannon is most definitely team Holden. He might as well come and join us and chant Holden’s name all night.

  I leave my building and lock the door. Dick’s car is a flashy black sports car, low enough to the ground that I’m really glad I didn’t wear anything too short. It screams three things to me: money, midlife crisis, and penis extension. Yay me.

  I wait beside it for a moment until it becomes clear to me that Dick isn’t even going to bother getting out. He spots me through the window and waves at me to get in. I fake a smile and open the door. Dick is on the phone yelling at some poor associate about margins and deadlines. I sit down, making sure to hold my dress in place. I close the door quietly, pull my seat belt on, and sit in silence. Dick catches my eye and holds up a finger. One minute. I’d be happier if it was the middle finger and I could just leave.

  I send Cannon another text.

  Strike two. He didn’t bother getting out of the car at all, and when I got in, he was yelling at someone on the phone. Classy.

  Dick finishes his call, and as tempted as I am to hold up a finger and write something else in the text, I press send and turn to him.

  “Sorry about that,” Dick says, nodding toward his cell phone, which now sits in a holder on the dashboard. “An associate has made a huge mess of the simplest task, and it’s costing a fortune to fix.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell him. “If you need to take a rain check and deal with this, I understand.”

  Oh, please say yes. He shakes his head like I knew he would.

  “Let’s just forget about work, huh? You can take my mind off of it.” He grins, putting his hand on my knee.

  I can’t help but see his grin as a leer, but I return it, all the same, reminding myself to give him a chance. He was just making a joke, trying to move on from the phone call I most likely wasn’t meant to interrupt.

  “Where are we heading?” I ask as Dick pulls away.

  “There’s a new place that opened just outside of town—a nice bar and grill that has good food and great drinks. I thought we could go there.”
/>   “Ah, so you’re ashamed to be seen with me in town.” I laugh, making an effort to lighten the mood.

  “Not at all,” Dick says, glancing at me. “But let’s face it, Grey; there are two places in this town worth going to. You own one, and I own the other, and I thought it might be nice to go somewhere that didn’t feel like work for either of us.”

  I’m caught off guard by his consideration, and I nod, and this time, my smile is genuine.

  “It sounds like a great idea,” I say.

  I send Cannon another quick text.

  New bar outside of town. Nice place, no work talk allowed. One point to Dick.

  Dick pulls off the main road, and I look up, curious.

  “Sorry,” he says. “Just need to fill her up.”

  I try not to be annoyed that he’s referring to his car as “her.” If I really want to know if I can move on from Holden, then I have to stop letting little things irritate me and actually give Dick a chance.

  He returns quickly, and we’re at the bar in minutes. It looks nice from the outside, and as we step in, I take a look around. It’s trendy, the décor muted and elegant. It’s filled with people, some in couples, and some in small groups.

  I spot Cannon sitting at the bar. Obviously he didn’t stop on the way here, as he beat us to the bar, and I feel better knowing he’s nearby. I can’t help but smile to myself at the obvious lack of a bowtie. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a tight T-shirt with a faded jean jacket, and I have to admit he looks good.

  I don’t get the chance to see much else as Dick places his hand on the small of my back and leads me to a tall booth. I sit down, and Dick sits across from me.

  We barely sit down before he excuses himself to go to the bathroom. I check the time on my cell phone. It’s eleven minutes past seven. Time seems to be moving slower than ever, but I tell myself it’s bound to if I keep checking the time.

  A text message comes in from Cannon, who has noticed Dick going to the bathroom.

  Looking good. Nice understated flash of knee. Get it, girl.

  Another follows before I have a chance to reply to the first one.

  When I said get it, I meant the dick. And not the one opposite you. Save all of that for your man.

  I feel myself blush slightly as I read Cannon’s texts. He knows me better than anyone, and he thinks I should be with Holden. Maybe I should. I don’t even know anymore. Maybe I should become a nun. That would solve everything.

  Dick comes back, and I lock my cell phone, congratulating myself on not even glancing at the time. I smile awkwardly at Dick. I’m so used to hearing him out for a few minutes then making my excuses to move away that I don’t know what to say now we’re past the small talk stage.

  I’m saved from having to think of something witty to say when a pretty redheaded waitress arrives at the table. She fills our water glasses from a jug of ice water and smiles at us.

  “Hi guys, I’m Tammy, and I’ll be your waitress this evening.”

  She pauses and places two menus on the table.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes and—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Dick interrupts her.

  I cringe inside. Being rude to waitstaff is a major turnoff for me, and that’s another point Dick loses. Holden would never talk to a waitress like that.

  “I’ll have the steak, medium rare, and for the lady, a fish special.”

  My jaw drops at his audacity. I am so shocked by his blatant disregard for what I might actually want that I don’t argue the point. I just sit there mute. I can’t help but do an exaggerated eye roll though. I look across the room at Cannon as Dick continues dishing out orders to Tammy, who, to her credit, doesn’t let her smile slip for a second. Cannon meets my eye and frowns when I mouth “he ordered me fucking fish.”

  Cannon stands up, and for a second, I think he’s coming over, but instead, he disappears from sight around the bar as Tammy leaves our table and heads to the bar. Now I feel truly alone. It’s not for long though. Tammy comes back to our table with a glass of white wine and a glass of some bright red concoction decorated with a sparkler. She places the bright red one down in front of me.

  “Umm, thanks,” I say.

  I didn’t even hear Dick ordering the drinks, but I guess if he thinks it’s appropriate to choose my meal for me, there’s no reason he wouldn’t just order me a drink with no regard for what I might actually want.

  “Sex on the beach,” Dick says with a wink.

  I smile, a thin-lipped smile that I don’t think is remotely convincing, but Dick doesn’t let my obvious discomfort put him off. He picks up his wineglass and nods to me. I pick up the cocktail. At least I might be able to get tipsy enough to find this remotely entertaining.

  “Cheers.” He smiles.

  He takes a drink of his wine, and I take a small sip of my drink. In fairness, it tastes pretty good, so I grudgingly take a bigger sip.

  “That’s it, babe, drink up,” Dick says.

  I’m sure the shudder of revulsion that runs through me when he calls me babe is visible. I mean babe. Seriously? Could this guy be any more cringeworthy if he tried? It’s like he’s taken everything that’s wrong with dating and rolled it up into one hideous little package.

  It strikes me as odd that he’s acting this way. I mean, I’m sure if I’d spent so long chasing someone I’d be a lot nicer to them when I finally wore them down. But I guess Dick thinks he’s being nice. I’m sure the sort of girls who throw themselves at his money simper and flutter their eyelashes when he calls them patronizing shit like babe, so he probably thinks women like it. Maybe I should be nice and tell him we don’t.

  I tell myself to be nice. It’s one bad night that I’m already almost certain is going to convince me Holden is the one. I can do that. And it’ll give Cannon and me a good laugh for years to come if nothing else.

  Tammy walks past our table again, and I see Dick not so subtly checking out her ass as she passes. I should probably be annoyed, but I’m not. While he’s concentrating on her, he’s leaving me alone.

  Maybe he’s just nervous, I tell myself, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s hard to do when every time he opens his mouth he digs himself into a deeper hole.

  “So Grey, tell me something about you that I don’t already know,” he says.

  Okay, that’s not so bad. It’s a bit lame, but he’s making an effort to get to know me, and at least he’s not just rambling on about himself.

  “Hmm, let’s see,” I say. “When I was seven, I came second in the town’s Christmas talent show.”

  “Really? What did you do?”

  “I did a dance to ‘All I Want for Christmas,’” I say.

  “Maybe you can show me some of your moves later,” he says with a laugh.

  I feel my stomach lurch. Maybe I’m just being mean now, and he genuinely means out on the dance floor, but something tells me that’s not what he means at all, and I feel so uncomfortable under his gaze. I stand up so abruptly I hit the table, and a little of my drink trickles down the side of the glass. Dick jumps to his feet too, a frown of concern on his face.

  “Are you alright?” he asks.

  His concern makes me feel bad for thinking such awful things about him, and I nod sheepishly. Fucking Cannon and his gossiping put this whole idea into my head, and now I’m being ridiculous and overreacting to a simple comment.

  “Yes, sorry,” I say. “I just need to use the restroom.”

  I had to say something. It’s not like I could just sit down again after that like nothing had happened. And I can take a few minutes in the restroom to calm myself down and not act like a total lunatic. Maybe by the end of the night, Dick will be the one regretting this if I keep on acting the way I am now.

  Dick doesn’t look totally convinced that I jumped up like I’d been burned because I needed to go to the restroom, but he points me in the right direction all the same. I hurry to the restroom. I stand in front of the sink, looking
at myself in the mirror. I’m a little flushed, embarrassed by the scene I just caused.

  I go to splash some cold water on my face, but I decide against it. I don’t want to have to spend ages fixing my makeup. The longer I’m gone now, the weirder I will look when I return.

  Instead, I press my forehead against the mirror, enjoying the cooling sensation on my skin. I check the time. It’s just gone half past seven. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Again, I remind myself why I’m doing this. Of course, that leads to me thinking about Holden and how I’d much rather be here with him. I guess that’s answer enough, but it would be rude to just leave now, so I force his image from my mind. I wash my hands in cold water and let it run over my wrists, which helps to make me feel a bit cooler, and then I head back to our table.

  “Everything alright?” Dick asks as I sit back down.

  This could be my chance. I could tell him I don’t feel well and ask to go home. But I know if I do, he’ll just keep trying for us to go out again. And now I’m almost certain I have to find a way to forgive Holden. The last thing I need is Dick hanging around me, hitting on me and holding it over me, threatening to tell Holden we went on a date the night after we made love. I might tell Holden myself, explain to him that this was the push I needed to see he really was the one, but that will come from me in my own time, not from Dick to stir trouble up.

  I feel a pang of guilt in my stomach about ignoring Holden’s text earlier. I debate replying now, but it feels sordid texting him while I’m out with Dick, and I tell myself it’ll be the first thing I do once I’m home. There’s a little voice in my head telling me he accepted it won’t happen again, but that voice is easy to drown out. It was obvious that Holden thought I was just saying it as I did about our kiss, and I let myself believe he believed it because it made trying to move on easier for me.