EIGHTEEN
SELENE
After I’ve showered and brushed my teeth, I step back out into Holt’s bedroom. Standing in the threshold between the bathroom and bedroom, I finally take it all in. I was too hungover and conscious of my terrible breath earlier for it to truly hit me where I am. Holt’s towels feel like they are made of one hundred percent cashmere. Everything here is decked out in gray stone and gold tones. Shit, even the bathroom floor is heated.
My headache has faded, but the memory of Holt’s words before he left for work echo across my body. I’m humming with excitement. It’s terrifying. I remind myself not to fall too hard. There’s still a piece of me that doesn’t believe in this, despite his promise of spanking me when I give the go ahead, and my obsessive need to kiss him again. I’ve seen love’s deception before, and I refuse to fall for it the way they all did.
I press my hand to my bare chest. Shit, what am I going to do about clothes? My dress from last night is no longer on the edge of the bed. Instead, there’s a plain gray T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. On top of them sits my apartment key. But it’s whatelse is there that catches me by surprise. Next to them sits a black card resting on top of a handwritten note.
My pulse is racing as I tip toe across the warm tile, my hair still dripping wet when I run my fingers along the shirt and pants before picking up the card.
Holt L Capuleti
I reread the name on the card before picking up the note left beneath it.
Wallflower,
These clothes are for you to wear so you can run home and grab your own. Howard will take you. He’ll also take you wherever else you want to go. Use this card to buy whatever you want today, but I have only one condition… pick something to wear for tonight. Anything you want. I won’t tell you where we’re going, but I’ll give you a hint. Make sure to wear a dress. Pick something that gives you that spark and the fire I know that’s inside of you. Something… you.
See you tonight – Holt
After reading the note, I drop it down beside the card.
I stare at it the entire time while I slip on Holt’s shirt and pants. They’re swimming on me, but I remind myself I’m only wearing them until I get back to my place. Shamelessly, I lift the collar of the shirt and bring it to my nose. It smells like him.
I pick up my apartment key and hold it in the palm of my hand. He said he didn’t want me to leave, but he’s giving me thechance. I could take my key and stay home all day, hiding from the rush he gives me.
I’m almost lost in the thought when realization hits.
Holt saw my place last night. Sure he’s been there before,outside, but he’s never stepped inside. But last night, he did.
Without him even in the room, I feel embarrassed. Adam was right the day we broke up. Our worlds are completely different. I will never fit into this one.
I close my hand around my key and slowly walk over to Holt’s closet. It’s strange walking through here without him knowing it, but he did leave me here by myself. Well, Howard is here, but I need a moment to think.
As soon as I step inside the closet, overhead lights illuminate. One by one, they shine a dim light over each shelf and rack. It takes my breath away. I’m almost certain his closet is the same size as his bedroom. I step farther inside, breathing in what I can only describe as Holt’s scent. Everything in here smells like him. Or it could be me. I used his shampoo and body wash, after all.
My hand moves along the rows of suits in his closet. Almost all of them are Armani, with some brands I’ve never heard of. All of them black. I start to add up the numbers in my head, remembering the price of the suit Holt told me he was wearing the day he crashed my yoga class. If these suits are at least the same price as he gave me that day, they would have paid for my college tuition countless times over.
Eventually, I come to a shelf with rolled ties. Again, all black. I can’t explain it but being in here makes me feel closer to Holt. Closer than we’ve ever been before. Like I’m seeing a part of him only few have ever seen.
I take a deep breath, send a silent fuck you to Adam, then leave Holt’s closetto go find Howard.
Iwent with the long, dark blue gown.
After running home and changing into my own clothes, I asked Howard to take me to a designer dress shop. I didn’t know of a single one, but he took me to the one he knew of because of Julianna. I’d thought about asking her for her advice on where to start but wanted to keep this for myself. She was always my go to when it came to fitting into this world—the side Adam claimed I didn’t fit into—but I wanted to do this one on my own. I wanted to own this feeling Holt had given me without the influence of my best friend, his sister.
I’ve told myself all day that spending the day with him like this is momentary. I’ll only allow myself a little taste of it, knowing this feeling will never last. Nothing is permanent, no matter how tempted I am when it comes to Holt. This is all for show.
So, despite my reassurances, I picked the dress I thought spoke to me. A long, royal-blue gown, made of soft fabric, with a low neckline and a high slit. I picked diamond-studded, strappy heels, too that I’m almost certain cost more than a year’s salary, plus a matching bracelet and necklace. It felt strange using Holt’s credit card, and I felt nauseous when I saw the prices. Before I handed his card to the attendant at the designer dress store, I almost stopped myself. Until I received a text from Holt.
Apparently, he’d been anxious all day to finish his meetings so he could see me in what I’d picked out. He was also quick to point out that he hadn’t seen a charge on his card yet, worried I’d flaked out on our date. I swallowed my pride and let the attendant swipe Holt’s too-heavy, black charge card. Within seconds, I received a text that read:Good girl.
I wanted to slap him. Or maybe have him slap my ass.
Hours later, I was finishing cleaning up the kitchen aftermaking lunch for myself when Holt came home from work. The face-splitting grin he’d had when he saw me immediately dropped when he’d seen me cleaning. He told me he had a personal chef and a housekeeper, but I scoffed at him and simply shook my head, telling him I was fully capable of making a sandwich and loading the plate into the dishwasher myself.
I could tell he’d wanted to spank me for that comment by the way he flexed his hand as he headed toward his bathroom to take a shower.
