“You have to tell her that you’re screwing her brother. You can’t hide that from her.”
Oh god, how in the hell does she know? I didn’t think we were obvious at all.
“What… what are you talking about?”
Haley rolls her eyes. Haley isn’t a bitch, but she tells it like it is. If she has something on her mind, she’s going to say it. We’re a lot alike in that regard. Except, I do sometimes care about people’s feelings, whereas Haley does not.
“I saw the way you guys were looking at each other back in Italy. I know you guys slept together. I’m sure that’s the reason you hadn’t been sleeping at home until two weeks ago, right? Look, I don’t care. You’re my friend and I want you to be happy, but Ellie’s my friend too. If you don’t tell her and she finds out, she’ll never forgive you,” Haley explains, and God damnit she’s right. I know she’s right.
I need to tell Ellie. I need to stop pretending like I don’t have feelings for Holland. I need to accept the fact that what I’m feeling for him clearly isn’t going away any time soon. I need to tell Ellie before she finds out on her own somehow and she hates me forever. I’d rather her find out from me than some rando.
Groaning, I nod. “I know, okay? I know. I just… what if she hates me? I mean, it’s her brother, Haley.”
Haley’s grip on my arm softens and the expression on her face turns to one of empathy and understanding.
“It’s Ellie, Lane. She could never hate you. You’ve been friends forever, and she just wants you to be happy. But she will be pissed if it’s not you that tells her,” Haley shrugs and begins to walk in the direction of the café. “I’d do it soon too, because it looks like things are getting cozier between you two,” she winks, then disappears through the doors of the café.
Well, fuck. This situation just got a whole lot more difficult.
Chapter 35
Lainey
Holland watches from the edge of his bed as I pace back and forth across his room. I haven’t stopped stressing about what I’m going to tell Ellie and when. Haley’s right, I do need to tell her. I just can’t figure out the best way to do it.
I don’t really know what I’m so afraid of. I don’t know if I’m more afraid of telling Ellie and having her hate me for it, or the fact that telling Ellie makes everything seem so much more real.
Making it more real means that there’s an actual chance of this not working out and me getting hurt, proving myself right. I don’t want to prove myself right. I want to be wrong. I want Holland to prove to me that people can and will stay.
But what if I’m right? What if I’m not worth loving or staying for? What if I’m destined to be completely alone for the rest of my life?
I don’t know if I could handle losing Holland. I’ve known him my whole life, and if he left, I don’t know what I’d do.
Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I’d do. I’d pull myself up by my bootstraps and handle it, just like I always have. Except, my version of handling it usually involves several bottles of liquor and a new man in my bed every night.
“Would you sit down? You’re making me dizzy,” Holland says. I glare at him and halt in my tracks.
“Why are you not more worried about this?” I ask, my voice higher than usual.
“Because I don’t care what anyone thinks. Neither should you. So what if my sister doesn’t approve. She can’t stop us from being together,” he shrugs nonchalantly.
I don’t understand how he can just not care about what Ellie will say. Maybe because she’s related to him and will be forced to see him at family functions even if she’s pissed at him.
Me on the other hand, I may have grown up with them, and they may be like family to me, but I’m not blood. Ellie could turn on me and decide she never wants to see me again.
“We’re not together, though. We’re screwing. There’s a difference.”
Holland clearly doesn’t like that answer because his face darkens and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so possessive.
The words he said to me back at the café replay in my head. ‘You’re mine.’
Without a word, Holland stands, his presence commanding the space around us. My breath catches as he reaches out, his large hands gripping my waist. His eyes bounce between mine as his breathing picks up slightly.
“No matter what, you’re mine now, Lainey,”he growls, his voice low and rough.“Stop worrying about her.”His words are a command, not a suggestion, and a shiver runs down my spine at the forcefulness.
I feel the heat of his body against mine, his scent enveloping me, musk and something distinctly him.
Holland’s hands move deliberately, his fingers brushing against the hem of my t-shirt. Leaning down, his lips kiss my neck.
