Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen)

by Diane Alberts

  “Here.” She held out the water, and he took it with a trembling hand. Next, she gave him the pill. “After you take these, we’ll get you in bed.”

  He nodded once, tossed the pill in his mouth, and downed all the water.

  As soon as he finished, she grabbed the glass out of his hand, set it down, and clutched his hand. “Can you make it up the stairs?”

  He grit his teeth so hard she could hear them scraping against each other. “Yes. I’m not—a—” He didn’t finish that thought. “Fuck.”

  Pressing her mouth into a thin line, she fell silent, knowing she was only annoying him. Plus, if he had a headache, then talking—hers and his—would hurt. Slowly, they made their way up the stairs. As soon as they entered his room, he let go of her and stumbled toward his bed. She watched him go, her heart in her throat with every step he took.

  When he stumbled, she lurched forward, ready to catch him. “Oh my—”

  He caught himself and threw a scowl over his shoulder at her. “I’m not a child.”

  “I know. I never said you were.”

  When he reached the bed, he sat down and then fell back, flinging an arm over his face. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He didn’t say anything.

  Neither did she.

  After what had to have been like twenty minutes of silence and awkward fidgeting in the corner on her part, she walked over to him. By now, the meds should have hit. “Is there anything else I can do? Would you like a cold compress?”

  His hand balled into a fist. After a few moments, he said, “Unless you can make the last fifteen minutes go away…no. There’s nothing else.”

  Okay, then. The meds had definitely kicked in. Before they had, he’d been unable to form a whole word, let alone an entire sentence. And when he’d come, he’d blurted out a bunch of words in the wrong order. She hadn’t thought anything of it, but now…

  What exactly had happened to him overseas?

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Holt.” Sitting down on the side of the bed, she brushed his hair off of his forehead. He flinched, but otherwise didn’t react to her touch. “Lots of people get migraines.”

  “You can go home now.” He still didn’t move. “I’ll pay for your cab. If you could reach in my coat pocket and get my wallet out, there should be cash.”

  Her heart twisted. “Holt…”

  “Lydia.”

  Reaching out, she squeezed his hand. “Look at me.”

  He finally opened his eyes. The blue was cold and hard. He wanted her to leave, and she would. But he had to know that she didn’t care that he got headaches, or couldn’t form his words perfectly one hundred percent of the time. None of that mattered to her.

  All that she cared about was him, and if he was okay.

  “I know right now, you don’t like me very much. I know you wanted to suffer alone, where no one could see you. I get it. And I know you want me to leave, so I will, even though I’d rather stay with you, in case you need anything else tonight. But nothing that happened here tonight has changed a thing.” She squeezed his hand. “Nothing.”

  He rolled his wrist and flipped his hand palm up, closing his fingers around hers. “I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been mean. It was…” He paused and licked his lips. “Uncalled for.”

  She smiled. “It’s okay. I’m a bitch when I get PMS, so I’ll make it up to you in a week or two.”

  A little laugh escaped him, but he cut it off quickly. “Ow.”

  “Sorry.” She rested a hand on his cheek. “I’ll go now.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, she walked for the door. She was halfway through it when he said, “Lydia?”

  She froze, a hand on the doorjamb. “Yeah?”

  “No one else knows I get these. No one…” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

  Blinking back tears, she didn’t face him. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  She walked out of the room, down the stairs, and into the night. She didn’t take money from him, because she didn’t need to. Her brother lived two streets over, so she’d just walk there. Truth was, she kind of needed the time alone to clear her head. Holt obviously had a heck of a lot going on, and no one else knew about it.

  Where was his support person? His parents? Siblings? Anyone?

  Even more importantly, where the hell was Steven, his best bud?

  By the time she made it to his door, she was furious. She marched up the stone walkway, lifted her fist, and pounded on the door. When he didn’t answer, she did it again. A few minutes later, she heard a scuffling sound, and then a muffled curse.

  The door swung open, and Steven stood there wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, his ink, and a scowl. He had a Glock in his hand, and his hair stuck up in different places. Once he saw who stood there, he dropped his hand to his side and closed the door enough that he could step behind it. “Jesus, Lyd. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. But you know what? You’re a—” She broke off, realizing at the last second that she couldn’t yell at him. She’d promised not to tell anyone about Holt’s pain, and she wouldn’t. “I mean, I was at a friend’s house, and I had to leave. Can I sleep here?”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course. But are you okay?”

  “Y-Yeah.”

  “Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

  She shook her head and slipped her coat off. She’d never even taken it off at Holt’s. Everything had happened so fast. “No, I’m fine. I just need to sleep.”

  “Okay…” He set the gun down and wrapped her in his arms. “Lyd, are you sure you’re okay? Where were you?”

  “At a friend’s house,” she said, resting her cheek on his chest. “But don’t ask who. It doesn’t matter.”

  He tensed. “Actually—”

  “Steven.”

  He sighed. “Fine. But I’ll be asking more questions tomorrow morning.”

  “Ask what you want, but I’m not talking.” She stepped back. “The usual room?”

  “Yeah.” He ran his hands through his hair. “You might not want to look in my room as you pass. I left the door open…and, uh…”

  She froze halfway up the stairs, because that meant he had a girl in his room, just days after splitting with his girlfriend of a year. “Seriously? Already? Who is she this time?”

  He crossed his arms. “Whose house were you at tonight?”

  “Touché.” She headed up the stairs without answering…which was exactly what he’d intended, of course. “Good night.”

  “Oh, and sis?”

  She stopped at the top of the stairs and glanced at him. “Yeah?”

  “Next time, you might want to make sure your skirt isn’t tucked into your underwear before leaving a guy’s house in a hurry.”

  Her heart skipped a beat and she hurried to fix it. “Oh my God. No—” But when she touched her skirt, it was smooth and not stuck in her underwear. He scowled up at her, and she scowled right back at him. “Steven.”

  “Just as I thought. Not a friend’s house after all.”

  “It’s none of your business what I do with my free time,” she hissed, her cheeks hot. She’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

  “Yeah, we’re definitely going to be talking about this guy tomorrow.” He raised a brow. “But hey, sleep well.”

  Without another word, she trudged into the guest room and shut the door. As soon as she was alone, she pressed a hand to her chest, reliving every moment…both good and bad…from tonight. About Holt. He’d been so playful at first.

  So free.

  And then, bam, the headache from hell had attacked him, and he’d been a different man. And everything from that point on had been awful. He’d even said some awful things, in his pain—not that she held that against him. She might not know much about Holt and his circumstances, but she knew one thing. He was alone, and he needed help. More than likely, the migraines and difficulty to form words came from
the brain injury that Steven had told her about, and he was miserable because of it. She had a feeling he’d been accustomed to being perfect, and being anything less just made him hate himself. But he didn’t need to be perfect to be loved.

  No one did.

  If she wasn’t careful, she’d be the one to love him, and he would push her away. He might only be looking for a “for now” arrangement between them, but her feelings for him were growing too deep, too strong, too soon. If she wasn’t careful…

  He just might break her heart.

  But that wouldn’t stop her from giving herself to him anyway.

  Chapter Twelve

  Holt ran his hands through his hair and stared down at his phone. He wanted to call Lydia, but last night he might have blown any chances he’d had of being with her. Not only had he been weak, but he’d been an asshole, too. Two things women generally didn’t find attractive. So…yeah.

  But that didn’t stop him from longing to call her anyway.

  His head still had that dull ache he was all too fucking familiar with, but he felt mostly human. And a lot of that had to do with Lydia’s care. She’d given him his meds, put him in bed, and made sure he was all right. She would have stayed longer, too, but he’d made her leave. Hadn’t wanted her to see what came next—the vomiting.

  He ran his thumb over the screen. “Son of a bitch.”

  Shoving his phone into his pocket without breaking down and calling her, he opened his truck door and walked up the path to Steven’s house. He’d asked Holt to stop by this morning, so he walked in without knocking, like he always did. But as soon as he stepped foot inside, he froze. Steven wasn’t alone.

  “But you have to—”

  “No, I don’t,” Lydia said, her voice hard. “I don’t have to tell you a single thing, if I don’t want to. And I don’t want to.”

  “Just tell me his name. That’s all I want.”

  She scoffed. “Who he is doesn’t matter. We’re just…you know, having fun. It’s nothing important, or I would tell you who he was. He’s nothing.”

  Holt tightened his fists. Yeah, they’d decided not to tell anyone else about their secret affair, but it still stung to hear it coming from her lips. He was two seconds away from barging in there and demanding she tell Steven the truth…which was crazy as hell.

  Just like me.

  “So, he’s, what exactly?” Steven asked. “A booty call?”

  “Call it what you want. It’s just a temporary arrangement between the two of us. That’s all.”

  Steven sighed. “And then once it’s over, you’ll go back to dating guys you can actually bring home?”

  It sounded like she stomped her foot. “Steven, I don’t like—”

  Not wanting to hear the rest of that statement, Holt cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Lydia’s cheeks suffused with color. She still wore the same outfit she’d had on last night, and her hair was a bit frizzy. Also, her face was devoid of makeup. He’d never seen her looking so fresh before. Gorgeous.

  And so off-limits.

  Steven turned to him, his cheeks red, too, but with anger, not embarrassment. “No, we were just having a little talk.”

  “About?” he asked, cocking a brow.

  “Inappropriate boyfriends.”

  Lydia turned even redder. “I never said he was my boyfriend. He isn’t.”

  “Who has a boyfriend?” he asked, playing along. But the game made him feel sick to his stomach. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone special, Steven.”

  “Fuck you,” Steven shot back. “I told you, if I was going to date a dude, I’d date you. But as it is, I still prefer chicks.”

  Holt snapped his fingers. “Damn.”

  “Wait.” Lydia rubbed her head. “What?”

  Steven snorted. “Don’t even think about it. He might be my type, but he’s not yours. He’s too damn stubborn and dirty for a little girl like you.” He slapped Holt on the back, sending a shard of pain through his skull. “Right, man?”

  Of course he was right. But again, Holt wasn’t that much worse than any other dude out there. He just…got migraines and couldn’t always form his words properly. That wasn’t so bad, was it? He winced. Yeah, it was.

  “Right,” Holt said between his clenched teeth.

  “Are you okay?” Lydia asked, coming forward.

  “Yes.” Holt locked gazes with her. “I’m fine.”

  “Why wouldn’t you be?” Steven looked at them both, no longer looking quite as jovial as before. “What did I miss here? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Just a headache,” Holt said quickly. “I mean, just, uh…I—”

  Lydia stepped forward. “When he drove me home the other night, he told me he gets headaches every once in a while. Said he felt one coming on, so I was asking about it. That’s all.”

  Holt blinked at her. She’d been quick to jump in and make sure Steven didn’t see anything between the two of them. But in doing so, she’d given away information he didn’t like giving out. Damn it. If people at work knew he was having headaches, and episodes, he’d never be able to keep his job. He’d already lost one position due to his injury.

  He wasn’t about to lose another.

  Steven eyed Holt. “You still get those? I thought they stopped.”

  “Uh…” He looked at Lydia, giving himself a second to form his thoughts. “I don’t get them anymore. They stopped. I thought I was going to have another one, but then it went away. False alarm.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  Lydia crossed her arms. “Yeah.”

  He stared right the fuck back at her. If he didn’t want to tell anyone he was having migraines and panic attacks and every other awful thing he had…then it was his own fucking business. She’d sworn to keep his secret, and she would.

  Steven cleared his throat. “Anyway, I have to go to another morning meeting with my new supervisor, and I’m late. Can you maybe give Lydia a ride back to her place, Holt? It’s why I called you over here.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  At the same time, Lydia said, “I can call a cab.”

  “No.”

  “No,” Holt said at the same time as Steven. It earned him a weird look from his best friend. “I mean, I don’t mind.”

  Lydia nodded once. “All right.”

  Steven grabbed his bag and hugged Lydia. “Let me know if you hear back from Ian. He’s supposed to be calling you again today.”

  “Yeah.” Lydia glanced at Steven, then back at Holt. “Of course.”

  Holt stiffened. Who the fuck was Ian? And why hadn’t she mentioned him before? He nodded at Steven as he walked by, waiting to hear the door shut behind him. As soon as it did, he cocked a brow. “Ian?”

  She nodded, smoothing her hair with a trembling hand. “Yeah.”

  “Is there something I need to know about this Ian guy?”

  Lydia blinked. “No. He’s nobody. Just some guy that…that Steven wants me to meet, is all.”

  “Is that so?”

  She crossed her arms. “Yeah.”

  “Bullshit. He—” He shook his head at himself. What the hell did he think he was doing, demanding answers out of her? They weren’t exclusive. They weren’t anything, really. “Never mind. Forget I asked. Ready to go?”

  “Yeah. Come on.”

  When they got to his truck, he helped her into it again, but his mind was elsewhere on the ride to her place. On this Ian guy, whoever the fuck he was. Was she seeing him, too? He’d beat the shit outta the guy, and then strangle him until he never even thought about approaching his Lydia again. Shit. He didn’t even know the guy, but he was already fantasizing about kicking his ass. With a muttered curse, he pulled into her parking lot, his grip on the wheel even tighter than before.

  She glanced at him, then sighed and opened her door. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

  “I’ll walk you up.”

  She hopped down.
“You don’t have—”

  “I said, I’ll walk you up.” He opened his door and shut it behind him. “And I will.”

  “All right.” She shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

  She floated his fucking boat, but she already knew that. “Your roommate come home yet?”

  “No. She’s coming back in a couple of days.” She unlocked her door and stepped inside. He followed her in, closing the door behind him. He locked it, too. “Thanks for the ride,” she said again.

  He nodded and rocked back on his heels, taking in her apartment. The flowers he’d given her were in a vase on a table in the dining room. That day felt like lifetimes ago. “Why did you go to Steven’s instead of going home?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you tell him about what happened? About…my issue?”

  “No. Of course I didn’t.” She crossed her arms. “First of all, I didn’t mean to slip up earlier. I just saw you flinch, and before I thought it through, I was asking if you were okay.”

  He swallowed hard. “It’s fine.”

  “And second of all, how could I have told him? He would have wanted to know why I was there, and what we were doing.” She lifted a shoulder. “But really, I just wanted to walk somewhere to clear my head, so I did. And then I was all ready to yell at Steven for not taking care of you. But then I realized—”

  “Hold on.” He held a hand up and took a step closer to her. “You walked there alone, while I was in bed sick?”

  She crossed her arms. “Yeah. I’ve been walking by myself for a while now. About twenty-three years, actually.”

  “You know what I mean.” He took another step toward her. Two more steps and she’d be in his arms, bent over. He hadn’t been finished with her last night when that headache had struck him. And he wasn’t finished now. “It was dark out.”

  Rolling her eyes, she dropped her arms to her sides. “You don’t say? And here I thought it stayed light all day long, and I was just in a really big shadow.”

  “Lydia.” Another step, and he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up to his. “You shouldn’t do that kind of shit. What if something happened to you while I was unable to help?”