Page 45 of Forbidden Romeo
“Of course,” I say as cheerfully as I can.
Jamie shoves his hands into his pockets, scuffing his toe along the floor. “Okay. Thanks for the ice cream,” he mumbles, not meeting our eyes.
Megan takes his hand and leads him away without another word. Jamie looks back at us, confused and crestfallen.
As they exit, the bell above the door tinkles, marking their departure. Holden and I remain seated, the weight of the unspoken lingering between us like a thick fog. Our ice cream has melted into a sticky soup, forgotten in the midst of emotional turmoil. The shop seems quieter now, the echo of Jamie’s laughter haunting me.
Holden pulls me into his arms. "It'll be okay," he murmurs into my hair. "We'll figure this out."
But despite Holden’s pronouncement of intending to marry me, I can’t help the uneasy feeling gnawing at my stomach.
I look at Holden, his face a map of worry and determination. "We can't let it end like this," I say softly.
He nods, gripping my hands tighter. "We won’t," he promises. “This situation doesn’t have to be complicated. People blend their families all the time, as long as we all have the common goal of Jamie’s happiness and well-being, it’ll be fine.”
Out of nowhere, his phone buzzes aggressively on the table. Holden glances at it and goes pale.
"What is it?" I ask, my heart pounding with renewed dread.
He doesn't respond straight away as his thumb hovers over the screen. But then he looks up at me with an intensity that chills my blood.
Swallowing, he places the phone on the table and slowly slides it over to me to read. “It just got complicated.”
CHAPTER 19
Holden
Five years ago…
Somehow, magically, I passed all my classes this semester. But based on the fact that I missed several weeks and a couple of my finals, I’m pretty sure my dad had something to do with that.
The magic of money and power.
Otherwise known as Erik Dorsey.
But I guess I was just as bad, wasn’t I? I allowed it to happen. I allowed him to pay off my teachers and sat idly back while he did it, turning a blind eye.
Even though we lived in Boston, my dad had been spending more and more time at his Riverside townhouse in Manhattan. I had hoped to have the place all to myself this week after Thanksgiving, but unfortunately, my dad was also here.
Luckily, I was a fucking master of hiding away in my room. I’d been up here for several hours already, playing video games, barely going downstairs for breakfast.
Beside me, my phone buzzed, Katherine’s name popping up on our text thread.
Katherine:
Which shoes for today?
Attached was a picture of peep toe strappy things or cute low heeled mary janes.
I placed a heart on the strappy heels, then texted her back.
Send me a picture of your legs in those and I’ll spring for filet mignon tonight at dinner.
She responded with an eye roll emoji.
As if you weren’t already going to spring for steak!
I laughed, the sound creaky and unused. One week away from her and I was already rusting. She was like a balm for my soul; the only person who could keep me grounded and alive, outside of Duncan.