Page 36 of Forbidden Romeo
We’re silent for two beats until Sandy comes out with a large bag in hand. He hands it to me, but Holden takes it before I can. Then, he holds out his free hand for me to take.
“Are we going to talk about the other thing?” I say as we make our way to the door. “About… Jamie?”
I feel him go more tense at the mention of the little boy who may or may not be Holden’s son.
“Not yet,” he says tightly, holding the door open for me. Then, he asks, “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Let’s grab dinner and talk there.”
“Okay,” I say as we pause at the corner. Half a block away, I can see Holden’s limo making its way through traffic toward us. “Where do you want to go?”
Reaching into the shopping bag, Holden pulls out a box of Magnolia cupcakes that Sandy clearly had stashed inside the bag while Holden and I were talking.
Gently, Holden shakes the box of cupcakes, a cute, boyish grin transforming him back to the adorable dimpled college senior I’d fallen in love with years ago. “I was thinking?—”
“Grand Central Station,” I whisper. Stepping forward, I push onto my toes, pressing my lips to Holden’s.
He gasps into the kiss, unable to pull me closer with his hands full.
“I love it, Lights,” I whisper against his mouth.
“I love you, Rose.”
CHAPTER 15
Holden
Five years ago…
“Which research method involves direct interaction and observation of individuals or groups in their natural environment?” Katherine asked, flashcards clutched in her delicate little hands.
“Ummm…” I took a pull from my whiskey and stared at the low-cut v of Katherine’s shirt. There was just the tiniest swell of cleavage I could make out when she leaned forward and it was far more interesting than the Sociology flashcards Katherine had spent the last hour and half making with me.
“Holden.”
“What?”
“We just went over this. Your sociology final is tomorrow.”
“Right. Ummmm… content analysis?”
“It’s Ethnography.” She drops the cards into her lap and pulls her feet beneath her, sitting cross-legged on my bed. “Are you okay? You seem… out of it.”
“I’m…” I paused. I hated this question. Was I okay? No, I wasn’t fucking okay. My mom was dead. My dad was an asshole currently fucking my professor. And I had to get up every day and pretend that my whole world hadn’t changed.
I looked up, meeting Katherine’s eyes and suddenly my anger surrounding my situation softened.
But I had her.
Even in my tipsy fog, I knew I’d be okay as long as she was on my side. “Yeah,” I said, my voice raspy from one too many whiskeys tonight. “Just… bad at focusing.”
She leaned forward, tapping a fingernail to my glass. “That’s probably not helping your focus.”
I chuckled and set the glass down on my nightstand, taking the opportunity to crawl across the bed, my navy comforter wrinkling beneath my knees as I made my way to Katherine’s lap.
She groaned as I leaned forward and slid my tongue up her neck. “Holden,” she gasped, her fingers threading into my hair. “You should really—” I nipped at her collarbone and she arched into me gasping, “Study.”