No, no,no.
Was I in love with Holden Dupree?
The realization was a blow to the chest, causing another silent sob to erupt in my trachea.
But even more painful was the fact that he did not love me back.
I glanced at the tall, dark-haired cowboy at the next table over, hardly remembering any of the feelings I’d had for him. Silas who? If they hadn’t shared the same last name, I might’ve forgotten Silas’s altogether. All I could focus on was the jagged, breath-sucking ache in the middle of my chest for the blond hottie who consumed my evenings, and once he was gone, consumed my every thought. Pfft. Lying on my couch alone thinking about someone who wasn’t thinkingabout me.
I was pathetic.
It ended here.
Holden sauntered up, holding his plate, looking a little sick. Probably because he’d realized how embarrassingly attached to him I’d become.
I stood. “JV, time to clean up. Throw your stuff away and go get dressed. Warm-ups start in twenty minutes.” I picked up my plate, about to walk away, when he had the nerve to put a strong hand on my forearm, sending tingles across my skin.
“Where are you going? I thought you were going to hang with me while I ate. Discuss game strategy?”
I chewed my lip, eyes on the table. “No. I’ve got some stuff to do before the other team shows up.”
He stepped in closer. “Christy,” he said in that low, husky tone that made my heart purr. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I’m just worried that the girls might suspect something is going on between us.”
I dared to meet his gaze. It was soft and apologetic, his light brown eyes warm and pleading. And I felt like a fool. Because he was exactly right. Of course, he was. I couldn’t be hanging on him, and teasing and calling him names in front of the girls. What was wrong with me?
“Sit with me?” Still in that ultra sexy voice that made me feel like I was the most important person in the world right then.
I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” Gah. I was such a sucker. Fine. Maybe he wasn’t the jerkface I’d just made him out to be in my head. But facts were facts. He was a satisfied bachelor with no plans of ever changing. If I didn’t want this to go any deeper I had to put a death grip on my stupid, out-of-control heart.
“There you go.” Lemon slid a plate of baked beans and potato salad across the table to Holden. Huh? He had room on his own plate. Why hadn’t he gotten them himself? Butthat wasn’t the real noggin-scratcher. The real conundrum was Lemon lowering herself to a seat across from us.
She glanced at Silas until she got his attention—which took less than two seconds because he was pretty much honed into her at all times—and curled a finger, beckoning him over. He scowled but hopped to attention, almost tripping over his feet to get to her.
I glanced at Holden, whose mouth was parted, gaze narrowed at Lemon. Okay. So he thought this was as awkward as I did.
Lemon looked right at me, bright-eyed, like we’d never been in love with the same man at all. “Hey, so Holden says your favorite show isThe Office. I’ve been trying to get Silas to watch it but he won’t. Maybe you can help me convince him.”
I wanted to tell her I’d tried to convince him, many times, but I was under no disillusions. This was not a powwow we were having. We were not besties. We would not be comparing notes. And nobody at this table wanted the discomfort of associating the past with the present.
Silas looked at her, puzzled, and almost put an arm around her shoulder before thinking better of it. Then he sat up, put on his Perfect Husband hat, and said, “It’s so awkward. I don’t know how y’all can stand it. Michael Scott is so…cringy.”
Holden chuckled and leaned his hand across the table to Silas. “Hand it over, dingus.”
Silas picked up my used knife and stabbed at Holden’s hand. “Get back, noob.”
But Holden was too fast. He snorted. “Sorry, fartknocker. You can’t use the word cringy and keep your man card. It’s mine now.”
“Shut it, ignoramus,” Silas said. “I’m living with two females. They’re rubbing off. You get what you get.”
I didn’t even realize I was laughing until Lemon smiledat me like she couldn’t be prouder that two grown men were neck-deep in a name-calling contest.
Just then Ming ran over, squealing, Alyssa and Jasmine right behind her. Still standing, she leaned her elbows on the table next to Holden, a phone in her hands. “Is this really you? Alyssa swears this is you.”
My stomach twisted in a knot before I could even see what they were looking at. I already knew. It was one of his stupid social media accounts displaying him with his harem of women.
His face was sheet white. “Uh, how’d you get on there? My account is private.” At least he had the decency to feel bad about it, I guess.
She waved him off as the others giggled behind their fists. “We’re logged in using Anna’s account.”
