Page 72 of Wrapped in Hope
Chapter 26
Three years later…
Brad calls justas I’m walking out of the grocery store. The New York wind blows, swirling my hair around me as I answer the phone. “I’m on my way.”
“Is it too late to have you grab some of that fancy cheese for the party?”
I turn and look at the store I just escaped from, and all for a pack of gum. “Yes. We have enough.”
He takes a loud breath. “If you think so. Hurry before you’re late.”
I laugh. “We have four hours. Stop stressing. Be there soon.”
“Love you,” he practically sings into the phone.
I laugh at his playfulness. “I love you too. Bye.” I hang up the phone and slide it into my purse while turning back around to leave. I bump hard into someone’s chest.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorr…” the words stop as I look up.
It’s Holden.
“Hi, Hope.” His voice is deep and raspy and even sexier than I remember it.
“Holden? What are you doing here?” I look him up and down, not believing my eyes. I never thought I’d see him again. He’s tall and lean, and has a beard that I want to run my fingers through. He has more muscle than ever. I can tell he’s been hitting the gym extra hard these last three years. His black t-shirt pulls tightly across his broad chest, leading down to his firm, narrow stomach. He looks sexy as fuck. I’m breathless just from looking at him, remembering those rough, callused hands on my body, remembering those sexy lips on mine. I have to squeeze my thighs together to keep away the flood of wanting that washes over me.
“I moved here about a year ago. What are you doing here?”
“I moved here after graduation.”
His blue-green eyes burn as he watches me. His jaw flexes with tension. “Do you want to grab a coffee and catch up?”
I think it over. Is this smart?
His scent gets blown my way from a gust of wind. It washes over me, bringing up so many memories, good and bad.
I should be heading to meet Brad, but maybe one cup wouldn’t hurt. “Okay, one cup.”
He nods as he motions toward a coffee shop across the street. We begin walking, but he is careful not to touch me. He slides his hands into his leather coat pockets and puts at least a foot between us. I’m thankful. I don’t know if his touch will have the same effect as it did all those years ago, but if it does, it’s something I need to avoid before I screw up everything I have going for me.
We don’t talk as we stand in line and order our drinks. Once we have our coffee, we sit at a table by the window.
Everything between us feels strained. Like there is still so much between us that needs to be talked about, but we’re both afraid of bringing up the past.
He clears his throat. “So, what have you been up to?”
I scoff. “What have I been up to? You left me in your apartment asleep and naked with nothing more than a letter and all you have to say is, what have you been up to?”
He leans back, breathing heavy as he runs his hands through his hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? For leaving me like that or for your dumb question?”
The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches me.
“What’s so funny?” Annoyance has to be written on my face right now.
He nods. “I always thought you were beautiful when you were angry. That hasn’t changed.”
“Stop. Start talking or I’m out of here. I’ve lived my life just fine without you for three years. All I’m asking for is an explanation.”