Nick is still occasionally wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "For the record, that was a solid two out of ten. No tongue, no passion. Holly gives better kisses to her coffee cup."
"Can we not discu?—"
"Oh, we're absolutely discussing this." Eve's grin is predatory. "I'm thinking diagrams. Maybe a PowerPoint."
The lift operator clears his throat. "You folks riding or writing a romance novel?"
"Ladies," I gesture to the exit ramp, my movements jerky with tension. "This has been fun, but—" I throw my arm out, blocking the girls' path. "No sisters allowed."
"Seriously?" Charlie's voice could strip paint. "What are you, twelve?"
"Generous estimate." I force a smirk I don't feel, my face tight with the effort.
Better they think I'm being childish than see how Holly's words hollowed me out. How the shame burns in my gut, mixing with the memory of her soft touches that I was too afraid to acknowledge.
Eve's eyes narrow. "Back to this bullshit?"
"Just maintaining tradition." I keep my arm firmly in place, even as everything in me screams to let Holly stay.
“Being a dick and running away,” Holly fires back, all spitfire and steel. "But hey, at least you're on brand."
The words hit their mark because she's right. I am being a dick. But it's better than the alternative. Better than admitting I can't trust myself around her.
I make the mistake of looking at her. Really looking at her.
The hurt in her eyes makes it virtually impossible to breathe.
My lungs seize.
This isn't just about my father's comment or Noelle or any of it, this is about me pushing her away.
Again.
Just like we did all those years ago.
"I'm not running." The lie is bitter on my tongue, "I'm?—"
"A coward."
Drip.
Charlie sucks in a rough breath. "Fuck, Hols."
Without another word, she skis out of the line, head high.
"Masterclass in fucking up," Eve mutters.
“Glad you made it to the show.” A growl of pure frustration grinds in my throat. I don’t need the fucking judgment. I’m doing just goddamn fine with it on my own.
Charlie glances between Holly's retreating form and me. "For someone who's supposed to be good at strategy, you suck at this."
With a shake of my head, I push off and line up for the lift. One look over my shoulder confirms which side my sisters are on as they head off in the same direction as Holly.
Nick flips the metal arm down as soon as we settle on the bench and begin our ascent.
Dragging us higher, even as I've never sunk lower.
Holly's always seen straight through everyone's defenses. A master at reading people and brave enough to call people on their bullshit with deadly accuracy.
