Taking What's His (Entangled Brazen)

by Diane Alberts

  Smiling, she forced herself to remain calm and cool, when she wanted to jump on the bed like a kid and shout, “He likes me!” at the top of her lungs. “I like you, too, you know.”

  His muscles relaxed, and he laughed. “You don’t say?”

  “I totally do.”

  He grabbed his keys off the nightstand and shoved his phone into his pocket. “Then wish me luck with your brother. I’m going to need it tomorrow.”

  “Stop it.” She fidgeted with the blanket. “He’s not that bad…”

  “Yeah.” Holt snorted. “It’s not as if he was a SEAL or anything.”

  She winced. “Okay. You might have a point.”

  “I know I do. But even if he kicks my ass…” He skimmed his fingers over her bare shoulders as he passed. “It’ll be worth every bruise, sprain, or broken bone. See you tomorrow.”

  Lydia watched him go, her stomach a ball of nerves and excitement. Starting tomorrow, her life would really begin. While she might have fallen for him quickly, like she had in the past, this time there was no doubt in her mind that this was right. That they were meant to be. Sometimes, people fell quickly because they just knew. And she was one of them. She’d never been happier, really, so it made her decision a no brainer. She wasn’t staying in Maine because of Holt…

  But she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next afternoon, Holt stepped into Steven’s office and made himself smile. He’d promised to tell Steven about his feelings for Lydia at lunch, but he’d been too busy catching up on overdue work to eat. And if he was going to keep his promise to Lydia, then he needed to tell him. Now.

  “It’s about damn—” Steven glanced up, his eyes narrow. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Holt raised a brow. “Who did you think I was?”

  “My sister.” He tossed a pen down. “She’s late.”

  Fuck. Did she think he told Steven already? If so, he’d best get his ass in gear and open his mouth. “Oh. Right. I didn’t know she was coming here.” He cleared his throat and tugged on his collar. “There’s something I have to tell you. I—”

  Steven slammed his pen down on the desk. “This is just so unbelievable, and so fucking typical of her. Always flitting from relationship to relationship, falling in love as fast as she can say hello to a guy. Well, this is the last straw. She’s in deep shit with me.”

  Wait. She fell in love all the time?

  If that was true, and she “flitted from relationship to relationship,” as Steven said, how could she truly fall in love with him, instead of just being infatuated? And if she did eventually fall for him, then how long would it be before she realized she didn’t really want to be with a guy like him?

  “She falls in love all the time?” he asked Steven, gripping his chair tightly.

  “She’s twenty-four and has found ‘the one’ six times already. What do you think?” Steven snapped, leaning back in his chair. “But this time she took it too far. I won’t stand for it.”

  He curled his hands into fists, trying to ignore the sinking sensation of doom in the pit of his gut. “Uh, why? What happened?”

  “I got her an impossible to find position at a highly regarded hospital.”

  Holt blinked. “But that’s great. Why are you so pissed—?”

  “I wasn’t finished yet, dumbass,” Steven snapped. “This position I got her is a rare opportunity. It’s one she isn’t fully qualified for, and won’t be for a long time. On top of that, it’s something that generally only opens up to people who are working at the hospital already, so it’s a huge fucking deal. A once in a lifetime opportunity, thanks to my buddy Ian down in Delaware.”

  “But again that’s—” Wait. Ian. That name again. That’s what she’d been about to tell him the other night. This Ian guy had a job for her, and it was hours away from him. Holt stepped back, his heart dropping to that empty pit in his stomach. “Delaware?”

  “Yes. Delaware.” Steven pinched the bridge of his nose. “But what does she do with this awesome opportunity that I traded a million favors to get for her? She wants to turn it down because of a guy she’s just started seeing. A fucking guy. I’m going to rip her a new one, and then I’m going to find this guy and kill him for good measure. He’s fucking up her life, and I won’t allow it. Not when they’ll be broken up in a month anyway, like always. Fuck that shit.”

  Like always. Holt’s heart twisted with dread. He’d thought they had something special, but she was the type to love them and leave them. But how…?

  It didn’t matter how. He knew it was the truth. Her brother wouldn’t fucking lie. And he was the guy fucking up her life. Here he’d been thinking about trying to make them into something real, and she was giving up this huge thing for him—a temporary relationship in a long line of her passing love affairs.

  He couldn’t ask that of her, not when he didn’t even know if this thing they had going on between them was even going to last, when stacked against all the odds.

  Truth be told, they’d pretty much been doomed from the start.

  He had no way of knowing anything at all besides the fact that he liked her, and she was ready to walk away from a job opportunity like this without a backwards glance?

  Hell no.

  Not if he had anything to do with it. It had been fun for a little while to dream of happily ever after and maybe finding love…but he couldn’t continue to do so.

  Not at the cost of her career.

  He curled his hands into fists. “Did she already turn down the job?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” He sank back into the chair. “She has until five o’clock tonight to answer him. She told me this morning that she was turning it down, and I begged her to wait until I had a chance to say my piece.”

  There was still time, then. He could fix this, even though his gut balled up into a fist at the thought…because he knew exactly what he had to do. And he didn’t want to. “Don’t worry. She’ll listen to you.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Steven muttered. “She never has before.”

  Holt looked over his shoulder. No sign of Lydia yet, so he had time to stop her from making a huge mistake. Had time to make it right. She hadn’t told him about this offer, more than likely because she knew he’d tell her to take the job. And she hadn’t wanted to hear it.

  So…he had to strike first, and hard enough to hurt her more than he’d ever hurt anyone before. Hard enough to make her forget all about him, even though he’d never forget about her in a million years. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck.”

  As he walked out, he focused on the elevators. He had to do this, no matter how much it might hurt. He jabbed the down button, pulled out his phone, and swiped his finger across the screen. Lydia’s latest message popped up. Good luck.

  Swallowing hard, he started typing. Didn’t tell him. Changed my mind. I think we should be done now. Quit while the going’s good. It’s over. The feeling is gone.

  The elevator doors opened, and he lifted his head.

  Standing there, looking fresher than the pure fallen snow on the winter ground, was Lydia. She wore a green dress that hugged her curves, and a pair of boots that hit right below the knee. Her strawberry blonde hair was down, falling in soft waves around her face. She looked absolutely gorgeous.

  And he was going to break her heart.

  When she saw him, a big smile broke out across her face. “Hey! How did it go?”

  “It…” He tightened his hand on his phone, words failing him. For once, it wasn’t because of his fucked up brain. It was because he had no idea how to tell her he didn’t want to be with her, when he really fucking did. “It…it didn’t go.”

  “What?” She blinked, the smile fading away slowly. “What do you mean?”

  He swallowed hard. “I changed my mind. We’re—”

  “It’s about damn time.” Steven came up behind him, grabbed Lydia’s wrist, and hauled her out of the elevator. “You were s
upposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

  Lydia didn’t answer him. Instead, she stared at Holt, who couldn’t look at her. But he could feel her eyes on him. Her phone dinged, and he flinched.

  It would be the message he’d sent seconds before the doors opened.

  She fought Steven’s hold, stopping right next to Holt. “What’s—?”

  “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Holt said at the same time.

  “Thanks, man,” Steven said.

  Lydia blinked. “What’s going on here? Holt?”

  “Why do you keep asking him? He has nothing to do with you giving up your life for some fucking idiot.” Steven tried to tug her toward his office, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she glanced down at her phone…and made a broken sound. “Lyd, stop delaying and come on.”

  “Oh…” she whispered. “It’s gone?”

  “Yeah.” Holt finally looked at her. He locked gazes with her, his chest hollowing out at the confusion, and yes, pain, in her eyes. “It’s gone.”

  “What’s gone?” Steven frowned. “What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing,” Holt said quickly, turning away from Lydia. He couldn’t stand seeing her in pain—and knowing he’d been the one to cause it. “Absolutely nothing.”

  Lydia flinched. “Obviously.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Steven looked even more confused. “Is there something I need to know? Do you know who the guy is, Holt?”

  It’s me. I’m the fucking guy. Open your eyes.

  “No. Why would he know? It’s not like we’re friends or anything,” Lydia said flatly, stepping back from Holt and tilting her chin up. That one tiny step hurt more than it should have, but it was his damn fault. He never should have fallen so hard, so fast. It had been idiotic. “Let’s go. I’m ready for our talk now.”

  She grabbed Steven’s hand and tugged him toward the office. Steven, for his part, looked as if he might finally be figuring something out…but then he shook his head and followed his sister. “Did you two get in a fight when he took you home?”

  “No, of course not,” she said. “You’d have to be friends with someone to fight with them, or care. He’s nothing to me, and I’m nothing to him.”

  That’s not true. None of this is true.

  Holt took a step forward. But if he wanted to set her free, then this was the only way to do it. He knew how stubborn she was. If she thought there was even a slight chance that he might be lying…she wouldn’t go.

  And she needed to fucking go.

  …

  Less than two hours later, a knock sounded on his door. He knew, without looking, who it was going to be. It would be Lydia. He almost didn’t answer it, knowing that. But in some masochistic way, he wanted to go through this. Wanted her to yell at him, and tell her how much she hated him. He needed it.

  Deserved it.

  And then she’d leave him, and he’d never see her again. Or maybe he’d catch glimpses of her here and there, and she’d have a husband at her side. And a cute horde of strawberry-blonde-haired babies. And she’d be so fucking happy, while he…

  Well, he wouldn’t be.

  He knew that already.

  But even so, he’d do it. He’d send her away. After a deep breath that felt as if he’d swallowed a box of nails, he opened the door and got his breath punched out of his chest. She wore nothing but a trench coat, which she clearly showed him by holding it wide fucking open.

  He stumbled back, his body responding in ways it shouldn’t have. “Lydia, what the fuck are you—?”

  “Oh, you know what I’m doing.” She barged inside, kicking the door shut behind her. “This is how I was going to greet you tonight, you know. There was going to be champagne and a dinner, too, but you get the idea.”

  He gave her his back. If he looked at her for one more second, he’d break. All his resolve to save her from himself would die a quick death. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but we won’t be dining or drinking…or fucking.”

  “Actually, I don’t think you are sorry at all.” She came up behind him, stopping close enough for him to feel her heat, but not close enough that they were touching. “So, the feeling’s gone, huh?”

  “Y-Yes.” He swallowed hard, refusing to look at her again. If he did, she’d end up against the door with him between her legs in two-point-two seconds flat. “Gone.”

  “So if I do this?” He heard her coat hit the floor. She was going to kill him. “You’ll feel nothing. Want nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Jesus. He dragged his hand through his hair, fighting the base urge to turn around and get one last glimpse of her body before he sent her running. “I told you it’s over, so, yes. I feel nothing.” Not true. I feel everything.

  “You’re so full of it.” She stepped even closer. “You aren’t even looking at me. Look at me, and tell me you don’t care. Tell me that everything you said last night was a lie. Tell me to my face that you don’t want me anymore.”

  To be honest, he wasn’t sure he could do that at all. But if it meant she got to escape his clutches, he’d have to find a way to make it work. To be strong enough.

  He gritted his teeth and turned. She stood there, gloriously naked, wearing nothing but a pair of black heels and a furious scowl. He almost took it all back. Almost knelt at her feet and begged forgiveness.

  But then he remembered why he’d done this, and he reinforced his resolve.

  “Fine.” Looking her straight in the eye, he gave her body a once over, forcing his expression to remain impassive and unimpressed. To add insult to injury, he shrugged. Actually shrugged, as if what he saw was nothing worth looking at. And he hated himself more than ever, which was saying a hell of a lot. “I. Feel. Nothing. It’s gone.”

  She blanched and stumbled back a step. “Oh.”

  The pain in her eyes was almost too much to bear. It looked as if he’d literally grabbed her heart out of her chest and stomped on it—and he might as well have. He took an uneven step toward her, hand outstretched. “Lydia, I—”

  “D-Don’t.” She held a hand up. Bending at the knees, she picked up her coat and put it back on. She pulled it shut and gripped it closed with white knuckles. “Don’t say another word. I was stupid to come here after you told me you were done, and even stupider to think this was about something else.”

  It felt as if he had a knife jabbed in his throat. “What did you think this was about?”

  “I got a job offer, and I thought you were trying to push me away, so I’d go—” She pressed her mouth tightly together. “You know what? It doesn’t matter what I thought. I was obviously wrong, so I’m going to go.”

  You’re right. Don’t go.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. If he didn’t, he’d grab her and kiss her and show her just how right she was. That this was all for show so she’d take the job, instead of taking a chance on a guy like him. One who wouldn’t even know what love was if it punched him in the gut or kicked him in the nuts. “All right.”

  She backed up, a hand over her mouth. He wanted to look away. Wanted to show her he didn’t care about her, or what she chose to do with her life.

  But he did. He really fucking did.

  She almost made it to the door before she stopped. Her hand on the knob, she turned around and stared at him. “Why did you say those things last night?”

  “I don’t know.” He dug his fingers into his palms. “I really don’t fucking know. I guess I got caught up in the moment. Mistook lust for something that was…more.”

  “So all of those things…you didn’t mean a single word? Not one?” Shaking her head, she paled. “I don’t believe it. I can’t.”

  “Jesus, Lyd. What more do you want from me? A signed confession?”

  She came closer. “Kiss me.”

  “What?” He stumbled backward. “No way.”

  “Prove to me that you can kiss me and not care.” She fisted his shirt and tugged him closer. “Kiss me.”

  He shook
his head, but didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to. With an unsteady grip, he cupped her hips, his heart pounding in his ears.

  Resting her hands on his chest, she pleaded with him. “Tell me this is some kind of heroic attempt to set me free, or some other ridiculous crap like you read in the romance books, or see in the movies.”

  “It’s over, Lyd. It’s that simple.”

  She nodded once. “Then kiss me. Prove you feel nothing. What will it hurt?”

  Everything. His heart twisted. She was fucking killing him. Why couldn’t she just leave already? Anger at himself, and at the whole fucking situation, hit him hard. He didn’t want to do this, but he was. And, yes, he knew that long distance relationships were a possibility, and that they could maybe make it.

  But he knew nothing about love or relationships in the first place, and the last thing he wanted was a fucking long distance one hanging over his head. Or hers. He’d only hurt her in the end.

  So he might as well do it now instead.

  Cursing under his breath, he smashed his mouth to hers, forcing himself to keep his mind and heart detached. Think of war. And pain. And all the death. Anything to stop your heart from warming even more under her soft touch. After he counted to five, he ended the kiss and let go of her instantly, as if he couldn’t wait to move on.

  As if he couldn’t wait to forget all about her.

  Hell, he even ran the back of his hand across his mouth as he stepped back. “Life isn’t a fucking romance book, and it’s not a movie. It’s just cold, hard reality. And we’re done.”

  “I…I’m…” She clutched her coat as if she clung to it for dear life. Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. Without finishing, she whirled on her heel, and she didn’t look back as she ran out of his house. He stood there, staring at the closed door. Alone.

  He’d won. He’d sent her running so she could live out her life. Find a guy who didn’t have a history like him. Get married and have cute fucking babies with happy fucking smiles in a pretty fucking house in Delaware. And he’d be here. Alone.