Silas shrugged. “We fight for each other, is all.” He shifted his weight. “But you’re not a Dupree. You don’t have to do this.”
I bit my lip, certain I was going to regret this in more ways than one. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
“That’s what I told Silas,” Lemon said, relieved. “You love him too much not to try, right?”
I kind of hated how she saw straight through me.
“There’s always a choice. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you have to sink with the ship. We all learned that a long time ago.” Silas’s tone was slightly intense. It was unusual for him, and I wondered if it was the love he had for Holden or because he was frustrated with his brother.
Twenty yards away, the guy who must’ve been in charge hollered for everyone to line up next to where he was standing. But I was perfectly okay with letting them go on ahead. I didn’t need anyone watching me run.
“What’s going on?”
Crap. I hadn’t seen Holden walk up.
He stepped to the other side of Lemon and groaned. At me. “What are you doing here?”
His stance was taut, like he wanted to bolt, and not because of the race. Once again, I detested my traitorous body that couldn’t stop reacting at the mere sight of him. Heart swooshing, electricity pulsing, breath hitching, hands tingling. All of it.
I folded my arms over my chest as he sized me up, taking in my running shorts and tennis shoes.
Irritation flashed across his face and he glared at me before swinging it on Silas. “She’s a terrible runner, moron. She can’t do this. You’re setting her up to fail.” Then his hate-filled glower narrowed even more as he aimed it at me and his shoulders rolled back, arrogance dripping off of him. “Seriously? You want me so badly that you’d use a 5K as a ruse just to be near me. Christy, c’mon, you suck at running.”
Heat flooded my chest and my blood boiled. My eyes were stinging a little too, I won’t lie. I looked at Silas and Lemon. “Oh, game on. I am doing this.” Then I stepped past Holden, slapped him on the back of the head, and called him a nasty name.
Silas guffawedas Holden yelled, “Ouch!”
I walked away, straight and tall, faking every bit of confidence I had. They bickered in hushed voices. Silas had been right to grill me and make sure I was up for this because, at that very moment, I was torn: leave this place and never see Holden Dupree again, or kick everyone’s butts in this race?
“It’s not going to work,” I heard Holden hiss at him before I was out of earshot. “You really think I’m stupid enough not to know what you’re doing? You’re all pathetic.”
Big exhale and a neck crack. Kick everyone’s butts it was.
I sidled up to the edge of the group. I didn’t know a single one of them, but they smiled and welcomed me anyway. The main dude, a tall barrel of a guy with black hair, a beard, and tattoo sleeves, stood on tiptoes trying to see if the Duprees were going to stop bickering and join us. I studied my fingernails.
A gorgeous brunette walked over. “Hey, I’m Peyton Jamerson. I’m one of the instructors at Lemon’s Barre studio.”
“Hi.” I smiled, pushing all the hurt down. “It’s nice to meet you. Christy Thornbury.”
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Oh crap. “You’re Silas’s ex.” Her hand covered her mouth like she shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t what I’d thought she was going to say. I was so far past Silas it hadn’t even occurred to me that might be what I was known for around here.
Another lady said, “Keep up, Peyt. Nobody’s talking about that part. She’s theprincipalat the high school.” She said it like that should tell Peyton everything she needed to know about me.
“Was.” A short, stocky guy added.
Wow. I blinked. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to do this after all.
Peyton’s eyes went even wider. “You’re the one who was kissing Holden without his shirt on in your office.”
I blew out my breath, willing my heart to slow. May as well own it. “Guilty.”
Her shock turned to awe like I was some kind of movie star. “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you kissed Holden Dupree without his shirt on.” She squealed and danced on her tiptoes.
How old was this woman? Because she was acting like a twelve-year-old girl. She reached out, pressed her pointer finger to my skin, and closed her eyes. Was she humming?
“Peyt, what are you doing? Leave her alone.” An almost cute guy walked up and put his arm around her waist, trying to pull her away.
She smacked at him, pried one eye open, and scowled. “I’m trying to learn through osmosis. I need whatever she’s got so I can become the kind of woman who’s confident enough to date brothers, goes at it on her desk with the town’s biggest hottie, the whole world finds out, and she doesn’t even care.”
