The Holly Hearth Romantic Comedy Collection

by K B Cinder

  Allegra wasn’t happy with the non-answer, her lips contorting into a frown. “Be more specific, please. You’ve always skated around these exercises, and it’s your last session. Open up.” 

  I leaned back in my seat, taking a deep breath. “I followed my first instinct and shut someone out. It wasn’t fair.”

  It wasn’t fair, even if it was the right thing to do.

  Allegra bobbled her head as she weighed the response, before turning to write on the board.

  As she did, I cast a wary glance at Raya, whose cheeks glowed pink. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed, meaning it.

  I was sorry. Neither of us knew. She was probably just as mortified as I was to see me, and it took calming the fuck down to realize that.

  Raya said nothing in return, choosing to stare at the board instead.

  “Communication,” Allegra said, repeating the word she’d written in all caps under ownership. “Part of learning from your mistake is communicating it. If it affects others, your best tool toward rebuilding trust is pointing out the mistake if the other party has yet to notice. Communication can also mean relaying to yourself that you’ve made a mistake. A lot of times we hide from our own errors, refusing to acknowledge them.”

  Allegra glanced at me expectantly. “Does the person know how you feel?”

  I nodded. “I recently made it clear.”

  As in a few fucking seconds earlier, but I did.

  Even if things had to end, I could’ve handled it a lot better. Like in person. Not a goddamn text message.

  Allegra nodded before her eyes drifted to Raya. “And you, Raya? Any lessons for us?”

  Raya took a deep breath. “I’m the queen of mistakes, but I’m ready to own the one that brought me here,” she said, her eyes fixed on her hands.

  I didn’t mean to perk up, but I couldn’t help it.

  She didn’t notice though, too focused on her fidgeting with her fingers.

  “I got in a car with someone I’d just met to go to a party because, at the time, fun was all that mattered to me. Not family. Not real friends. Not real, meaningful connections.” 

  She bristled at the last one, and I felt the weight in my chest grow heavier.

  “Without going into too much for the sake of privacy, that person had stolen the car and then crashed it with me in the passenger seat. That split-second decision to get in that care cost me everything. My job. My apartment. Movement in my leg for months. All over a stupid party.”

  Her face fell, but no tears pricked her eyes. “I think about it all the time,” she trailed, reaching down to tug her boot to the side, revealing her ankle monitor. “I lost my freedom over it. Not for long, but for enough time that I’ve had time to think about what matters and what I want.”

  It was then that the tears trickled, one or two at first, that she quickly wiped away, before a stream came that made me reach out and stroke her back gently, earning eyes from Allegra who said nothing.

  While relief flooded through me at the news that she wasn’t a danger to my girls, a second wave of anguish chased it.

  I’d made a terrible mistake.

  Raya lifted her head and held it high through the rest of the session, and it took everything to keep from pulling her into my lap, kissing her senseless, and telling her how fucking proud I was.

  She took the lesson to heart, unlike me, and put herself out there for the group to judge. After, she visibly relaxed, the tension drained and replaced with the woman I knew outside of the meeting room. The one I’d seen laughing with my daughters, coaxing light out of Cass, who’d since returned to nothing but gloom. She was the reason my little girl wanted to keep going back. Why she stopped fighting me.

  And I repaid her by stripping my girls away and essentially dumping her. Not my best moment.

  But I didn’t force it.

  As the session ended, and I exchanged quick goodbyes with Allegra, who I’d still see around the station, I raced to catch up with her, finding Raya in the lot opening the driver’s side door.

  “Raya!” I didn’t care if anyone heard. I was a free man and able to talk to whoever the fuck I wanted.

  A few people did, including Knockoff Jesus Jonathan, who looked mildly intrigued as he climbed into his neon green beetle.

  I ran across the lot, snaking between and around cars to make it to her before it was too late.

  Surprisingly, she hadn’t jumped in her car and driven off. She waited with her shoulders back, a wave of seriousness overtaking the woman I’d known as nothing but smiles and sex appeal.

  “Don’t leave me,” I said, stopping short of her. “I made a mistake.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Biggest one of your life. Sucks now that you can’t get your dick wet after therapy, huh?”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “Righttt,” she mocked, rolling her eyes. “You just happened to fuck me after every session like it was your job, but now you don’t miss it?”

  “It’s not just sex,” I blurted. “In all that, there was more for me.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Look, I get it. You wanted an easy fuck, and you got it. You called me out on the first day with the ankle thing, and you’ve played me ever since. I’m clearly easy to read and manipulate, and I need to work on that with everything else on my bullshit pile.”

  “I want to be on your bullshit pile.”

  By now, Knockoff Jesus wasn’t bothering to pretend not to eavesdrop, fully walking over to get his daily fill of juicy gossip.

  Raya eyed me nervously before looking at the nosy sandal wearer. “I’m sorry, but there’s no room. It’s miles high.”

  “Bullshit,” I countered, stepping around to shield her from prying eyes. “Drive and let’s talk. I’ll walk home from your place.”

  I had no idea where that was, but Honey Hills wasn’t that big. If push came to shove, I’d call a ride-share.

  Her eyes flicked to her car, but she climbed in, unlocking the passenger seat for me.

  I ran around the side, slipping in and flipping off anyone still looking at us.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m only doing this because we have an audience,” she grumbled, starting the car. “Put your seatbelt on.”

  I did as I was told, and she crept out of the lock, her body stiff as she drove.

  “You said yourself this is over, so why won’t you let it die gracefully? Why revive it only to kill it again?” she asked bitterly.

  “I was scared,” I admitted. “I saw you with the girls, and I lost it. I didn’t know why you were in group to begin with, and suddenly you were with my daughters.”

  “But you could’ve asked,” she said softly, easing to a halt at the stop sign as she looked both ways. “Instead, you immediately assumed I was doing something malicious. If you knew me at all, you’d know I don’t have that in me.”

  “I don’t know you at all; that’s the problem!”

  She threw her hands up, exasperated. “I’m sorry, but I’d like to think I know you somewhat after a month of… of… whatever the hell this is!”

  A car honked behind us, urging us to move, and she flipped them off out the window before cutting out into the road.

  I ran my hand over my face, the base of my skull already throbbing. “I mean beyond talking and fucking. We never discussed details. I didn’t know you worked at a gym. I don’t even know where you live. I don’t even know how old you really are.”

  Manners said I shouldn’t have asked that last one, but I didn’t care. It was a fact of the matter, and I was mad, dammit. The situation was the perfect storm of fucked up, horned out chaos.

  Her fingers bit into the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she drove. “I live with my parents because I lost my apartment after the accident, and I’m twenty-five. Your turn, Rebel.”

  Twenty-five? Fuck.

  I choked on that fact to the ball before swallowing it down to answer her. “I’m thirty-five, and I live in a house on East 8th with t
he girls.” In the same shingled Cape Cod I’d bought at her age with two little girls and a wife. Since then, the wife left, a puppy arrived, and more hell broke loose as those little girls grew into little women.

  She didn’t flinch at my age, so I breathed a sign of relief.

  “Where do you work?” she asked after a long moment. “You already saw me in action.”

  “I told you: I’m a cop.”

  Her head snapped to me. “If you want whatever this,” she started, waving wildly between us. “Is to work, you need to be serious. What’s your job?”

  “I swear on Cass and Izz—I’m a police officer.”

  She groaned, smacking her head back against the seat as she slowed at a red light, her blinker on to make a left into Holiday Hills, a neighborhood that housed Christmas-theme street names and bi-levels. “You weren’t lying then?”

  “It was a slipup, but you didn’t believe it, so it worked in my favor, I guess.”

  We cut into the neighborhood as the signal changed, passing the well-manicured lawns just as the streetlights came on. Cul-de-sacs were plentiful, the spokes jutting off the main strip as we drove along.

  Her eyes fixed on the narrow, winding road ahead. “You can’t blame me.”

  I stared out the passenger window at the passing houses; the homes decorating with a mashup of Memorial Day decorations and leftover Easter Bunnies. “I guess my subconscious wanted to be honest.”

  She slowed, easing onto Holly Hearth.

  “How long have your parents lived here?” I asked, knowing Dash had grown up on the cul-de-sac. Last I heard, his folks still lived there.

  “All my life.”

  Her keys jingled in the ignition as she parked along the sidewalk outside of a modest bi-level, the flowerbeds overflowing with phlox and hostas. It sat just across from the Bane’s home.

  Small fucking world.

  “So you know Dashiell?” I asked.

  Her brows raised, and she pointed at his childhood home. “Bane? He grew up there.”

  “He’s a friend,” I explained, shaking my head with a smile. He’d punch me in the balls when he heard who I’d been banging, no doubt.

  “He’s married to Juni,” she continued, pointing at another house. “Who grew up there with her brother, Sage. My eldest sister married Sage.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Talk about a hot mess.

  She laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt and pulling her keys from the ignition. “Yeah, something must’ve been in the water here. They’re like rabbits with kids hopping all around now.”

  “No, it’s just, what are the chances we have all these people in common, but we’ve never met in passing?”

  She sat back in her seat, smirking. “We ran in different circles. You’ve probably arrested some of my old friends. I didn’t always keep the best company.”

  “What changed?”

  To ever make something out of this, whether a relationship or a friendship, I had to know. For me and for the girls.

  “I grew up,” she answered, glancing down at the keys in her hands. “It took literally losing my life to figure out that what I was doing, wasn’t working.”

  “Do you talk to your old friends?”

  She shook her head. “They dropped me after the accident, and honestly, they did me a favor. That was the start of the change. I still cared way too much about missing out on parties and fun, but I want more than that now. My parents and I get along for the first time in years, and I’m in a good place.”

  I brushed my knuckles along her cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

  I smiled, but a knock sounded at her window, startling us both.

  21

  Raya

  Papa glared at me like a snapping turtle getting ready to strike on the other side of the glass.

  Tentatively, I lowered the window like a helpless guppy waiting to be bitten in two. “Hey, Papa.”

  “Who the hell is that?” he barked, firing off the question before I could introduce Rebel.

  As what, I wasn’t sure. A friend? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I hadn’t expected Papa to be outside.

  “This is Lev from group. Lev, this is my father, Douglas,” I said, gesturing between the men, Rebel looking calm as can be. “Pardon Papa, but he’s not used to me showing up with strange men in my car.”

  He wasn’t used to meeting the men in my life, period. After telling two boyfriends back to back that they weren’t good enough for his daughter at a glance, I ignored the meet the parents tradition entirely.

  “Because you’re on house arrest!” Papa exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “Raya, honey, we talked about this…”

  “Calm down, he’s a friend from group,” I reasoned, holding up my hands. “It was his last session today.”

  Friend worked. I’d roll with that and see where it took me. Hopefully not into trouble.

  “You shouldn’t be meeting people at those things, Ry,” Papa said through tight lips. “It’s not speed dating, baby.”

  Rebel laughed, stepping out of the car and forcing me to follow suit as he rounded the car to meet Papa on the sidewalk. I hated him a little for that. I preferred having the option of rolling the window up if Papa started yelling.

  “I’m Lev, sir,” Rebel greeted, giving Papa a firm handshake—something he was a total sucker for.

  In that stiff approach I saw the officer come out with my own eyes, and I felt like a dolt for missing it. He moved like a cop. Crisp steps. Tall, commanding posture and presence.

  “Are you dating my daughter?” Papa asked, not mincing words as he sized up the tattooed man in front of him.

  If I’d known we were going to do the face to face, I would’ve stuck Rebel in something with sleeves. The t-shirt exposed the wall of ink, and I saw Papa’s eyes widen as he took them in. It only could’ve gone worse if he’d pulled up with me on the back of his bike.

  Rebel’s eyes stayed locked on Papa’s, giving him his undivided attention as they continued the handshake into the realm of awkwardly long. “I haven’t asked her yet. We’re halfway there.”

  Knots churned in my belly, but Papa fired off a dad joke to ruin the moment. “Living on a prayer?”

  I groaned, but Rebel laughed. He would. Somewhere, Cass was groaning, too. I knew it. She had to feel her lame senses tingling.

  Rebel grinned. “Something like that, I guess.”

  Papa narrowed his eyes as he released his grip on his hand finally, ending the lengthy shake. “What are your intentions with her?”

  Again, Rebel didn’t miss a beat. “To respect her as my equal and see where we end up.”

  Papa patted his shoulder firmly and looked at me, pointing a finger back at Rebel. “I like this one.”

  Really? I blinked, stunned. “I do, too.”

  Papa turned his focus back to Rebel. “Come look at my bush, and we’ll go inside.”

  Rebel smirked but followed Papa toward the driveway without a smartass remark.

  “Isn’t it big and beautiful?” Papa explained, waving at the massive rosebush that he’d trimmed to perfection, its bright pink buds as vibrant and lush as ever. “It took forever to groom it, but it’s the talk of the neighborhood now.”

  “I can tell. It’s beautiful.” Rebel studied it thoughtfully before looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes I wanted to put out with a fire extinguisher before we both got in trouble. “Does Raya have a bush?”

  Papa threw his head back and laughed while I undeniably flushed purple. “Raya can’t keep anything alive. Her garden would be a bare patch of dirt.”

  Rebel choked back a laugh while I sunk my teeth into my cheek. “That explains a lot.”

  “We had her help with gardening a while back, and she got more mulch on her than in the flowerbed. She’s better off buying the flowers than growing them.”

  Rebel looked to me with a teasing twist to his lips. “Good to know.”

  “Well, let’s go meet Adriana.” Papa led the way toward the porch,
easing up the stairs slowly, waiting for me to catch up.

  I shuffled along, feeling like I was in a nightmare that kept getting worse.

  Mama was sitting at the kitchen table with her hairy-chested romance and a charcuterie board. For once, she wasn’t in pajamas, still dolled up from a late dinner date with her high school girlfriends.

  Her eyes drifted up from the text as we filed into the kitchen, a chunk of Havarti hitting the back of her throat and making her choke at the sight of Rebel.

  Papa patted her back to save the day.

  Once she stopped sputtered, Rebel extended a hand of greeting. “I’m Lev. Nice to meet you.”

  Mama shook his hand weakly before looking at Papa, who nodded silently. “I’m Adriana. You are… Raya’s friend?”

  Rebel nodded, clasping his hands in front of himself as he took a step back to give her space to look at him. Like really look at him. “Yeah, we met in Dr. Hughes’ group.”

  Mama’s eyes widened.

  I’d recognize that look anywhere. The what the fuck are you thinking look. We’d been old friends since childhood.

  Mama recovered after clearing her throat. “Group therapy? And you’re friends?”

  Rebel wasn’t fazed. “Weird, I know, but yes. We’re good friends.”

  “Are you from around here?” Mama asked, sitting up straight in her seat, still shooting occasional glances at Papa.

  “I grew up outside of Edison, but I moved down to Honey Hills during high school.”

  And now my mother’s detective drilling was getting more answers out of him than I ever bothered to sniff out. Looking back, I’d done it all ass-backwards as usual, getting to know his body before him. But in a way, I was more excited with what was to come. What I was to learn next.

  “How old are you?”

  “Jesus, Mama!” I interrupted. “Can the man catch a breath? What do you want, a blood sample?”

  Rebel waved me off. “It’s fine. I’m thirty-five.”

  Mama shot me a haha look, happy as a clam that he sided with her over me. “Job?”

  Too bad for him, he didn’t know she’d go all night like this. Mama was relentless.