by Emma Hart
“No, my landlord is increasing the rent, so I thought I’d get a roommate.”
Seb came around my side of the register. “Does she know how bad her bullshit stinks?” he whispered.
I shook my head slowly. “I think she believes it,” I whispered back.
“I’m kind of impressed that she’s holding it together this well.”
Saylor and Dylan did seem to be getting along pretty well.
“Yeah, she fluffed her hair and mouthed ‘oh, my God’ at me before you turned around. Probably would have put some lipstick on if she’d had a chance.” I sat back on the stool and rested my chin on my hand. “She’s freaking out inside, but she’ll never admit it.”
“Damn. I guess I’m used to seeing, well, you.”
I hit him. “Shut up. By the way, I’m organizing the crap out of your kitchen this weekend.”
“You are, are you?”
“Yes. And you can bake me cookies while I do.”
“Who’s baking cookies?” Saylor said, approaching the counter with Dylan.
I went to speak, but Seb wrapped his arm around me and covered my mouth with his hand. “Nobody is baking cookies. You two seem to be getting along.”
“Yeah, I was gonna take him to my place now if you didn’t need me to stay.” Saylor looked at me. “We’re done, right?”
I nodded and pried Seb’s hand from my face. “As long as you get with Tori about those graphics, we’re done. I know what to order in the morning. We just need to talk about some festive merch designs, but we can do that tomorrow.”
“Okay, cool.” She turned back to Dylan. “We can go now, if you’re free.”
Dylan’s head jerked. “I’m free.”
“Great. I’ll just get my coat.” She touched his arm lightly before she disappeared in the direction of the staff room.
He glanced at Seb. “Meet for dinner?”
“Sure. We’ll go to Bronco’s. Say, six-thirty?”
“Sounds good,” Saylor said, reemerging with her coat on. She looped her scarf around her neck. “Yes, Holley?”
“Um.” I looked at everyone. “I don’t know if we were included in that, Say.”
“Oh.”
“It’s fine.” Dylan’s lips quirked. “I haven’t been here that long. It’ll be nice to get to know some people.”
“See? It’s fine, Holley.” Saylor grinned at me, then winked. “Shall we go? It’s freezing out there and looks like it’s going to snow again. My car is just around the corner.”
I watched as she corralled him out of the store and looped her hand through his elbow.
“Poor Dylan,” Seb said, slowly shaking his head as we watched them leave. “What have I done?”
I laughed. “You’ve unleashed the kraken on the poor guy.”
“Eh. He’s English. They colonized a third of the world. He’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think Dylan personally colonized a third of the world, but okay.”
“Maybe he did.”
“How old do you think he is?” I snorted and closed the laptop. “Still, Saylor is a handful. I couldn’t stand to live with her. Is he a patient kind of guy?”
“He’s a personal trainer to athletes. It’s basically like trying to get toddlers to sit still.”
“Found one!” Kinsley came back at that moment with a cookbook tucked under her arm. “Who’s a personal trainer?”
“Oh. Uh, Dylan was just here,” I replied.
“Is that the hot British guy?”
“I believe that’s how you refer to him, yes,” Seb drawled.
“Oh, damn it!” She put the book down on the counter. “Why does nobody tell me anything? Did Saylor see him?”
“See him?” I raised my eyebrows. “She couldn’t show him that spare room fast enough.”
She huffed. “All that teasing, and I didn’t even get to see her see him. This sucks.”
“Well, luckily for you, we’re having dinner at Bronco’s tonight.”
“Unlucky for me, you mean. I’m having dinner with Josh’s parents.”
“Is this your first dinner with them as a couple?”
“Yes, and I’m shitting my pants,” she replied. “It’s not like I don’t know them, but still. It’s weird going as his girlfriend.”
Seb looked between us. “I have nothing to add to this, so, I’m just gonna go home and put Dylan’s stuff in the spare room.”
“Oh.” I turned to him. “Okay. Shall I meet you at Bronco’s later?”
“Depends. Do you want to drive in the snow we’re forecast, or…?”
“I can drive.”
Kinsley snorted.
“I’ll come and get you.” His lips quirked up. “I know you hate driving in heavy snow.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you spent half our senior year bitching about it every time it snowed to the point I used to drive you to and from school. Remember that?”
Now that he mentioned it…
I tried my best innocent smile, but it felt a little pained, even to me. “I forgot about that.”
“Snow is gross,” Kinsley muttered.
“You live in the wrong state.” Seb laughed and cupped my chin. “I’ll pick you up at six-fifteen. Does that work?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. “But I draw the line at driving you to work.” Another quick kiss and he pulled back, heading for the door.
I ignored Kinsley’s grin. “You might as well drive me. The whole town thinks I’m having your babies!”
“You will one day!” He darted out of the door before I could say a word in response.
“Wow. You’re already talking about babies? Considering how long it took you to get your shit together, you’re moving really fast.”
“Oh, wipe that grin off your face.” I frowned at her, but I was fighting a laugh. “We are most definitely not discussing babies. It’s not my fault I saw him with Tegan and my ovaries got ideas, okay?”
“I can’t take anymore babies, Holley.” She held up her hands. “Especially not in your family out of wedlock. We have ducks and old people to deal with. Don’t leave me alone.”
“Mabel is the ringleader. Tell Saylor.”
“She’s an enabler.” She paused. “Hey, maybe Dylan will be a good thing. He’ll distract her enough we can instill some order into the seniors.”
“Yeah, right.” I scoffed and grabbed my phone. “The only way we’ll instill any order into our grandparents is when we’re burying them. You know, in the grave plots they all bought that are in one long line in the cemetery.”
That’s right. Our grandparents bought a line of plots together, not with their families.
Kinsley sighed. “Oh, God. They’re going to buy plots for the ducks, aren’t they?”
Sadly, they probably would.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – SEBASTIAN
rule twenty-one: you never know where the path might lead.
“Think of this like an interview,” Saylor said. “How early do you wake up?”
Dylan ran his tongue over his lips and thought about it for a moment. “Depends if I have to drive to the stadium or if I can work at the training ground. Or, in this case, at home.”
“That’s a lot of variables.”
“Five-fifteen for the stadium, six for the training ground, and seven for working at home.”
“In the morning?” Horror flashed across her face. “Dear God.”
Holley sipped her wine. “People do wake up before nine, Saylor.”
“I don’t.”
Dylan fought a smile. “My alarm isn’t loud. I won’t wake you, I promise.”
“Will you often be waking up before the sun rises?”
“Most of Seb’s sessions are moving to personal training rather than physical therapy, so I’ll be spending most of my time in White Peak while his rehab is being done. We’ll do two sessions a day.”
Holley and Saylor both wrinkled their faces up.
I laughed. “That’s child’s play compared to actual training. We’re usually out there for hours every day.”
“I’ll stick to my books,” Holley muttered, dipping a fry into the dregs of ketchup that were left on her plate. “You run around if you want to.”
“You hike.”
“No, I go for walks disguised as hikes. And I only do that to listen to audiobooks.”
“That. Me, too.” Saylor pointed at Holley. “Definitely that.”
Dylan laughed and pushed some of his dark hair from his forehead. “Don’t worry. We’ve already secured use of the gym between here and Dartree Mountain for our training sessions, and I don’t work out at home. Only stretches before and after a run.”
“Well, at least I know my candy is safe,” Saylor said brightly. “My candy is safe, right?”
His eyes glittered. “Your candy is safe. I can’t stand the stuff you call candy. Unless it’s Sour Patch Kids. I like those.”
“Ooh.” Saylor winced. “We might have a problem. They’re literally the best candy in the world.”
“I beg to differ. If you go to an old English sweet shop, that’s the best in the world.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Have you ever been to an old English sweet shop?”
“I’ve never been to England, so I’m going to say no.”
“Then how can you make that assumption without any evidence to back it up?”
Holley’s grin was the definition of shit-eating. “This is amazing,” she whispered to me as they continued to argue… whatever they were actually arguing. “He’s holding his own.”
“It is pretty impressive. Saylor is strong-willed,” I agreed. “I wouldn’t have mentioned the room to him if I didn’t think he could handle it.”
“He needs a will of steel to cope with her,” Holley said, finishing her wine. “I’m opening tomorrow. I have to go.”
“I’ll open,” Saylor said. “I left early today. It’s fine.”
“You’re supposed to close tomorrow.”
“Crap, you’re right.”
“We can switch.” Holley sighed but smiled right after. “I’ll close. It’s fine. I didn’t have plans tomorrow night.”
Saylor leaned over and squeezed her hands. “You’re the best. I have a date.”
Dylan side-eyed her, lips pulled it one side.
“Now it makes sense.” Holley pulled her wallet from her purse and opened it.
“I got it.” I pulled mine from my pocket. “Are we still going if you don’t have to get up early?”
“As your personal trainer,” Dylan said with a grin. “I think we should go over Coach Kincaid’s plans tomorrow and run so I can get an idea of your fitness.”
I eyed the last third of my beer. “Guess I’ll be leaving that, then.”
He laughed. “I’m not going to kill you over a beer with dinner, Seb. You’ve had a rough few months. We can run or take a hike. You can show me some trails if they’re walkable.”
“Peak Place should be accessible,” Saylor said. “It’s under cover, and we go year-round.”
“I thought you didn’t hike,” Dylan replied with amusement in his tone.
“I don’t. I walk while listening to audiobooks. That’s not hiking.”
“We already established that,” Holley agreed. “Even so, it was a long day, and I’m tired.”
“That’s my cue.” I put money on the table. “I gave you my spare key, right?”
Dylan nodded. “I put it on my keys already. It’s all good. I know where I’m going.”
“I should be home anyway, but I have to drop Holley home so you might get there before me.” I slid out of the booth, and Holley followed suit. “See you later.”
Dylan held up a hand, while Saylor smirked. “Have fun,” she sang.
Holley said goodbye with a very efficient gesture involving her middle finger, and I pulled her out of the bar before she could tell her to fuck off.
That was usually how that exchange went.
“What do you think?” I asked her as we approached my truck.
“About what?”
“Dylan.”
“Oh.” She got in before me. “He’s nice. I like him. I think he’s the kind of person who needs to live with Saylor. And who can probably say no when she ultimately comes onto him.”
“You think she’s going to hit on him?”
“Yes,” she said as if I were stupid. “At some point. It might be unintentional, or it might be totally deliberate, but it’ll happen. Especially since they’ll be living together. Something is bound to happen.”
“How do you know that?”
“They have chemistry.”
“What does that even mean?” I looked over to her as I pulled up to a red light.
She rolled her eyes. “They click. They obviously have a lot in common despite Saylor’s aversion to exercise that isn’t yoga and Dylan’s literal career in exercise in general.”
“You own a bookstore. I’m a baseball player. We’re pretty opposite ourselves.”
“Oh, and you like math.” She hesitated. “Hmm. I might have to rethink this.”
“Rethink this?” I bit back a laugh. “No. No. No more thinking. You thinking is what took us so long to get to this point.”
“Took us so long? You’ve been back, like, a day!”
“I’ve been here ages! It’s been at least three weeks since I walked into the store.”
“And in the last three weeks I’ve gone from wanting to kill you to tolerating being around you.”
I pulled up outside her building and gave her a look. “Tolerating being around me. You were tolerating a lot last night when you were kissing me on the sofa.”
“That benefitted me also.” She grabbed her purse and jumped out. “Are you coming?”
“Oh, are you tolerating me tonight, too?”
“I’ll let you watch sport if I can read my book.”
“Works for me.” I followed her into the building, pausing to lock my truck behind me. It really was damn cold tonight, and I was thankful to get inside to where it was much warmer, even if the lobby did have a window open.
“Is there even sports on?” Holley asked, leading me up the stairs. “I have no idea.”
“What channels do you have?”
“I have no idea. I don’t watch sports.”
“Surely you know if you have sports channels.”
“Sebastian, I read and watch Netflix. How would I know?”
“You pay the cable bill, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t mean I’ve ever looked at the sports channels.” She shrugged and pulled her keys out of her purse as we reached her apartment. She put the key in and unlocked it. “I don’t watch them. Why would I know?”
“Three billion women in the world, and I choose the one who doesn’t watch any sport at all to be my girlfriend.”
“I’m not your girlfriend.” She let us in and unzipped her coat. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
I took off my coat. “You’re my girlfriend.”
“This is feeling very middle school.” Holley walked into the kitchen. “Do you want a hot chocolate? I swear I’ll remember the marshmallows this time. And I’m not your girlfriend.”
I watched as she pressed the button on the electric kettle to turn it on. We were back to bickering over semantics—which was fine, it was fine—but it wasn’t going to last long.
By the time I left, Holley Stuart would know she was my girlfriend.
I kicked off my shoes and walked over to her. She didn’t know I was here, so it was easy to come up behind her and trap her against the counter. She squealed when I pressed myself against her back.
“What are you doing?”
“Trapping you so I can argue with you and use my body to my advantage,” I murmured, dipping my head to kiss the side of her jaw.
She swallowed. “It’s not going to w
ork.”
“It’s going to work.”
“I don’t sleep with people on the first date.”
“Then thank God we’re not on a date.”
She pulled two mugs down from the cabinet above her head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve.”
“It would be great if I could convince you to admit that you’re my girlfriend.”
“What are you, five?”
“No, but I am determined.”
“It’s been twenty-four hours since we had the conversation about seeing where things go. You’re already putting a label on it.” She scooped cocoa powder into both mugs.
“I know, but there’s a benefit to admitting you’re my girlfriend.”
“Oh, is there? And what’s that?”
“I can do this.” I swept her dark hair to one side, exposing the side of her neck so I could kiss it.
“You appear to be doing it anyway,” she breathed, dropping a teaspoon in the right mug.
“Is it convincing you yet?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“What if I do this?” I ran my hands down her sides until I was grasping her hips. I pulled her back so her ass was snug against me and she had no chance of escaping my hold. My lips went to her neck once again, and I kissed a trail down from her earlobe to her collarbone.
“Not convinced,” she said, but her voice wasn’t as strong as before.
“No?” I kept kissing her, leaving soft, firm kisses over her tender skin.
Holley tilted her head to the side, her breath hitching when my teeth caught her neck. “No.”
She was full of shit, but if she was going to play this game, then so was I.
I buried one hand in her hair and pulled her head to the side, tilting it so I could kiss the corner of her mouth. I dotted kisses along her jaw, flexing my fingers on her hip, pulling her against me more firmly.
She turned her face and her lips found mine. It took her two seconds to turn around and wrap her arms around my neck. The ferocity of her kiss took me by surprise for a moment, but it didn’t last long before my body reacted to her.
I kissed her deeply, taking control. She didn’t mind if the way she yielded to me was any indication. She sank against me, and as her tongue found mine, desire rushed through me.
