My breath catches. He's so close I can count his eyelashes, see the faint stubble along his jaw. Also, hello biceps. Those are some grade-A military gains right there.
Focus, Holly. This is not the time to mentally catalog his muscle groups. Even if his forearms should be classified as lethal weapons.
His hand skims up my side, feather-light. "Dangerous game, Squirt."
Oh, we are so far past dangerous. We've blown right through dangerous, made a pit stop at reckless, and are currently speeding toward complete emotional annihilation.
But hey, at least the view is nice.
"I'm not afraid of danger." The words come out breathless.
Apparently, my voice didn't get the memo about playing it cool. Then again, nothing about this is cool. The temperature in here has definitely jumped about twenty degrees, and it's not from the wood stove.
"No." His thumb traces my bottom lip. "You never were. NotmyHolly."
Maybe it's the way his voice breaks. Maybe it's the way he's looking at me like he'd tear himself apart before hurting me again. Maybe it's just that I'm tired of fighting this thing between us—but themy Holly?
Direct hit, soldier.
My Holly.
Two simple words shouldn't be able to crack my chest wide open like this. Shouldn't make my heart flutter and soar and ache all at once.
But they do.
My Holly.
Not William McAllister's disappointing daughter. Not Nick's pesky baby sister. Not the family outcast or a corporate liability.
My Holly.
His. Claimed without hesitation, without conditions or caveats. No need to be quieter, smaller, more polished or proper.
Just... his Holly.
The words settle into my bones, filling cracks I didn't even know were there. Cracks left by every dismissive "dear" and patronizing pat on the head. Every time I was too much or not enough.
But here, with his callused thumb still tracing my lip like I'm something precious, those two words rewrite everything.
They say "I see you" and "I choose you" and "You're exactly who you're supposed to be" all at once.
My throat tightens as the truth of it hits me no one's ever claimed me like this before. Not as something to be proud of. Not as someone worth keeping, worth fighting for.
Just... mine.
My Holly.
I want to bottle this feeling. Tuck it away somewhere safe where doubt can't touch it. Where I can pull it out on days when I feel invisible and remember that to him, I'm not just Holly.
I'm his Holly.
And maybe that's all I ever needed to be.
His thumb is still on my lip and I'm fighting the urge to bite it. Because that would be crazy, right? Total insanity. Completely unhinged behavior. The kind of thing a normal, rational person definitely wouldn't do...
Unless…
Before I can overthink myself into paralysis, I part my lips just enough to graze his thumb with my teeth.
