So, no, he wasn’t in fucking denial. This was him protecting the people he cared about. Since he’d failed at it so spectacularly as a kid, it was his turn to do what was right. And protecting people like Bailey and Holt from the likes of him was the right thing to do.
And if keeping his distance from anyone who enticed him hurt, then it was a punishment he rightly deserved.
“You still feel it,” Holt said, stepping closer.
“I don’t feel shit,” he countered, attempting to step around Holt.
The man blocked his path.
“Don’t do this,” Rafe warned. “I’m not in the mood.”
“No?” Holt stepped closer.
This time Rafe didn’t move. He couldn’t. His breath was lodged in his throat. He was overwhelmed by the rich spice of Holt’s cologne, a scent that still lingered in his memory from time to time. More than once, he thought he’d smelled the man and found himself looking around for him, only to realize his senses were playing tricks on him.
“I don’t believe you.”
They were close to the same height, with Rafe being a couple of inches taller. But that minimal difference had never been noticeable because Holt Callahan had seemed larger than life from the day Rafe met him.
“Last warning,” Rafe whispered when Holt leaned closer.
“I’ve never stopped wanting you,” Holt said, his breath fanning Rafe’s lips. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you. About that night. About what we could’ve been.”
Rafe could feel the tension in his muscles, his brain directing him to shove Holt away, but he didn’t. Long seconds passed as Holt’s lips hovered only a whisper away. Rafe wanted his kiss. He wanted to feel what he’d felt all those years ago. Wanted to steal a taste so he could savor it again, even if it could never last. But he knew one kiss would lead to endless months of agony, and he refused to go through that again. It was the very reason he hadn’t kissed Bailey, why he’d kept her at arm’s length. He was only so strong. Eventually, he would cave, and he would ruin the life of whoever was in his path. He couldn’t do that.
Planting one hand firmly in the center of Holt’s chest, he pushed him back. “I’m not goin’ back there. Not now. Not ever.”
Holt’s blue eyes glittered with need and anticipation, and it mirrored the emotions that churned within him. That was one thing about Holt. He never hid his desires. He went after them without apology. Rafe envied him for that, but he wasn’t Holt. He couldn’t be that man. Not with the sins he’d committed weighing heavily on him.
Shouldering his way past Holt, Rafe emerged from the hallway and got to work sweeping the floor.
“I’m gonna assume you won’t have a problem with me going out with Bailey.”
Rafe nearly tripped over the broom but caught himself.
Did he care? Hell no. It wasn’t like Bailey would want anything to do with Rafe or Holt once she learned they’d been together. And there was no doubt in his mind that Holt intended to tell her. For the shock value, if nothing else.
But Bailey was pure and sweet, the kind of woman looking for a man who could and would put her on a pedestal and worship at her feet. She deserved that. A man who could give her one hundred percent of himself. Since Holt had never been the sort to lean one way for too long, Rafe figured it was only a matter of time before she told him to take a hike.
“You need to stay away from Bailey.”
Holt didn’t respond, and he still didn’t respond, so Rafe made the mistake of turning to look at him.
“You’re in love with her.”
It sounded like an accusation, so Rafe let it stand. He didn’t need to confirm or deny his feelings for anyone.
“Shit.” Holt shook his head. “And she has no fucking idea.”
“It’s not like that,” Rafe bit out.
“So she’s fair game?”
Knowing Holt would keep pushing until he got the answer he wanted, Rafe delivered the only one he was willing to give. “I don’t give a shit what you do.”
Holt chuckled softly. “You never were a very good liar. You know that?”
He was wrong about that. Rafe was a brilliant liar. When it counted.
