by Kendall Ryan
Instead, he meets my eyes with a look of understanding. Not sympathy, not pity, but some kind of common ground . On some level, we’re sharing our secrets, and it’s more than I’ve done with anyone in three years at this school. Even with Gretchen.
Holt’s attention is yanked away by a scuffle in the hall and loud voices. I turn my head toward the door, listening, wondering if one of them is Alex’s. Wondering if it’s time to go. Then there’s a dull thud of someone being shoved into the wall, and the sound of furniture scraping across the floor.
“Stay here,” Holt says as he goes off to investigate, leaving me alone in his bedroom.
Loud footsteps thump down the stairs, and I cross the room. When I peek into the hall, it’s quiet and empty. The voices are downstairs now, angry male shouts, though I can’t make out what they’re saying.
The door to the room Alex was in opens, and I quickly shut Holt’s door, tucking myself inside once again. The girl he was with says something and he laughs, then there are two sets of footsteps as they descend the stairs together.
I pull out my phone and see a text from Gretchen. Where are you???
Upstairs, I reply with shaking hands.
I have no idea why I still feel nervous and on edge. Maybe it’s because I was almost caught for a second time tonight, only this time by Alex?
But I know that’s not it. It’s because I’ve been basically hiding up here with Holt.
A reply comes from Gretchen. There’s a fight outside. I’m leaving. You okay or do you need a ride?
Alex and his flavor of the night are gone. So, why am I still hiding out in Holt’s bedroom?
Making up my mind, I text a response. I’ll be okay.
Suit yourself, Gretchen types back. Let me know if you change your mind and I’ll come get you.
I text her back the thumbs-up emoji.
Holt still hasn’t returned, so I pocket my cell phone and cross the room to his little wooden desk that sits under the window. There’s a notebook on top, and when I flip it open, I scan the page, trying to understand what I’m reading.
I’D HAD ENOUGH OF THE MINDLESS GAMES
THEN YOU APPEARED
WITH EYES SO BLUE AND HAIR SO SOFT
I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME
Song lyrics? Poetry? I’m not sure, but I don’t want to snoop. The sound of approaching footsteps pulls me away from the desk and whatever private thoughts are hidden away in Holt’s journal.
Holt bursts into the room, breathing hard. He’s holding his fist near his side, and his normally stoic expression is twisted into a scowl.
“Fucking frat boys,” he mutters under his breath as I cross the room to him.
“What happened?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he swallows hard, looking pissed off.
“You’re bleeding,” I say, appraising him with concern.
His knuckles are scraped, and there’s a drop of blood at the corner of his lower lip.
“I’m fine, Eden. You should probably go.” Holt’s tone is flat, and he won’t meet my eyes.
“I’m not leaving you like this.”
I reach out to touch his lip. I have no idea why I do it . . . I’ve never touched Holt before. Maybe it’s because I’ve never noticed his mouth before. His lips are full and soft, and I don’t like the sight of blood marring it.
When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “Believe me, I’m fine.”
I wave him toward the bed. “You’re not fine. Sit down.”
2
* * *
HOLT
When I first met Eden Wynn, I never imagined she’d become a bright spot in my otherwise dark, miserable life. But here she is, choosing to spend her evening with me, locked away in my bedroom, bandaging my swollen knuckles so tenderly that it feels like the air has been sucked out of my chest.
Her disappointment about losing Alex Braun is nothing like the pain I feel—the deep, all-encompassing pain that edges out all the happiness in your life.
But that’s a story for another time, because Eden is perched beside me on the mattress. The scent of her shampoo is driving me fucking crazy, just like it always did whenever we worked together at the library. After we turned in our final project last year, I doubted I’d see her again. Not on a campus as big as this one.
But I did.
First, a few months ago—a fleeting glimpse of her walking across the quad, her bright, sunny smile warming me, even from a distance. And then again last month at the bar where I work, checking IDs on the weekend. She came in with her friend, the same girl she was with tonight downstairs. I kept a close eye on her that night, as best I could, to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. But Eden is a smart girl. She knows better than to accept a drink from a stranger, or to follow some drunk douchebag home from the bar.
“Who did this?” Eden says, snapping me back to the present.
When I meet her eyes, their icy blue color nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. Her brow is creased in concern. Or frustration. I’m not sure which.
Is her frustration directed at me, at my life choices—that I always find a way to get in the middle of shit? Or is she frustrated at the situation I’ve found myself in?
“Doesn’t matter,” I grumble. “I’m fine, Eden.”
She huffs. “You’re not fine. You were in a dang fistfight.”
I chuckle under my breath, wondering if she ever curses, or if dang is the extent of it.
“What?” she says sharply.
I shrug. “Nothing. Just never seen someone so worked up over some busted knuckles.”
She gives me a pointed look, pressing those full, kissable lips together. “And a swollen lip, by the looks of it.”
“Doesn’t hurt. I swear.”
Shaking her head at me, Eden stands. She dumps the wrappers from the Band-Aids into the little trash can beside my desk.
A couple of the partygoers got a little too rowdy downstairs, and I helped them off the premises. A few punches were thrown out on the front lawn, but we’re lucky it wasn’t worse. Lucky that the cops weren’t called. At least, I don’t think they were. The last thing I need is to follow in my family’s footsteps and end up in the backseat of a police cruiser.
I take another sip of whiskey straight from the bottle she and I were sharing earlier and try not to wince, because shit, it stings my split lip. Bet that’ll look cute in the morning. But what I told Eden is the truth. It doesn’t really hurt. I’ve had much worse, and I’ll live. I always do.
She surprises me by sitting on the bed next to me again. I offer her the bottle of liquor, but she shakes her head. I’m sure she’s about to leave, about to get up and walk out of my life for good, but instead, something else happens.
Eden shifts closer and raises her chin, tilting her face toward mine. When she meets my eyes, my heart begins to hammer hard. Her eyes are such a pretty shade of blue—deep like the ocean, and filled with such intelligence and curiosity.
“Why was Alex in there with her?” She nods toward the door, and then those blue eyes are back on mine.
My heart shifts into overdrive. “Because he’s a fucking idiot. Because he takes the easy offering.”
“Always?”
“Always,” I say, my voice going soft again.
She smiles at me. “Thanks for . . . everything. For saving me from making a fool of myself. I guess it’s just as well.”
“I didn’t save you from anything, Eden. Something tells me you don’t need saving.”
I don’t miss the hint of a smile on her perfect mouth. But it’s the truth. I know she can handle herself. She’s brilliant, beautiful, and kind. A triple threat.
Eden relaxes back onto the pillows, seemingly content to stick around a while.
Meanwhile, I’m trying hard to figure out what alternate universe I’ve found myself living in, but then again, I don’t want to think too hard about why she’s here with me. Not when I could just shut off my self-doubts and enjoy it. And so
I do.
As we fall into easy conversation, I decide I could listen to Eden talk for hours. I learn that she met Braun last week, that she’s not sure about her major, that her roommate leaves coffee mugs out on the counter for so long they grow mold, and it annoys Eden to no end.
I chuckle at this, and she shoots me a look of disdain.
I shrug. “If that’s the extent of your problems . . .”
She frowns at me. “It’s not.”
Somehow, I believe her. Something tells me her life isn’t as bright and shiny as she wants everyone to believe.
We’ve been sitting on my bed for the last two hours doing nothing but talking. I’ve never had this much fun with a girl . . . completely sober now, having a deep conversation. It’s kind of crazy, if you think about it.
We’ve covered a lot of topics. Talked about everything from our families to our favorite movies, the best and worst pizza toppings, and even what we want out of life.
Eden’s goals are much loftier than mine. Mostly, I don’t want to end up in prison like my older brother, or in rehab like my mom. Big of me, I know. Which is why it’s insane that she’s lying here with me, using my shoulder as a pillow as we stare up at the ceiling.
It’s late, and I should probably help her get a safe ride home . . . but I don’t want to. And considering I’m feeling greedy tonight, I have no plans to end whatever this is.
“Do you ever just want to say fuck it,” she says, “and do the exact opposite of what people expect of you?”
I chuckle into my fist.
“What?” She props herself on her elbow and gazes down at me.
God, I love just looking at her.
“I basically had that exact same thought. Lying here with you . . . on my bed. No one would have expected this—Holt Rossi and Eden Wynn. But fuck it. Fuck them.”
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.
“So you’re saying this is unexpected . . . me and you.” She says it cautiously, still looking down at me.
“Very. But in a good way.” I give her a small smile, and for once it doesn’t feel forced.
Slowly, I reach out and cup her cheek in my palm. She has the softest skin I’ve ever felt. Either that, or I’ve never noticed details like that with other girls. But Eden isn’t just another girl.
Proving my point, she lowers her face toward mine. It’s a slow, cautious movement. Nothing about her is rushed. She’s graceful, elegant, and so fucking potent, I could burst.
Her full lips part, and when her eyes sink closed, I slide my hand into the back of her hair. My fingertips press softly into the skin at the base of her neck as I draw her down to me. And then finally, her mouth touches mine, her lips slightly parted. They’re damp and warm, and she presses closer.
It’s the best first kiss I’ve ever had. And the impact of it vibrates through my entire body.
First, there’s the shock of how good and soft and warm her mouth feels. And then there’s the rush of arousal that pulses through me from my chest to my groin in wave after hot wave.
She kisses me back eagerly, her tongue making greedy, slow passes against mine. The pleasure of her mouth eclipses any pain I’d felt in my lip.
By the time we pull apart, I’m breathless. And when those blue eyes open, staring deep into mine, it’s like another kick to the chest.
The moment is quiet and intense, filled with such promise.
I open my mouth to say something—I have no idea what—but Eden only kisses me again, this time crawling on top of me to straddle my hips.
Fuck. Heat races down my spine, and my cock hardens instantly.
One hand still buried in her hair, I bring the other to the soft curve of her ass. A tiny gasp pushes past her lips. When her eyes open and find mine, her gaze is hazy with desire. Something deep and powerful passes between us without the need for words.
It’s like every emotion I’ve ever felt flashes between us, and I see the recognition in her eyes. She feels it too, an anthem that only we know the words to.
Accept me.
Don’t reject me.
Love me.
When I dive back in for another kiss, Eden moans again. It’s the best sound in the world.
Squeezing her ass—which is thankfully more than a handful—fuck yeah—I draw her closer so she can feel the effect her body has on mine.
One slow kiss becomes two and then three. When my tongue touches hers, Eden reciprocates, deepening the kiss and making me groan.
I thread my fingers through her silky hair and kiss her pretty, pouty mouth like my life depends on it. While we kiss, she makes small, need-filled sounds that make my cock ache.
We can’t do this.
Can we?
“Holt,” she murmurs.
Her shy smile almost takes my breath away. She places one hand on my cheek and leans in for another kiss, giving her hips an experimental roll.
Fuck. She’s torturing me.
Fun fact: If I don’t get inside her in the next ten seconds, I’ll explode.
I settle my hands on her ass and tug her even closer. “You’re killing me. You know that?” My voice is husky, little more than a deep rasp.
“Me?” Her tone is wary, like she’s not quite sure she believes me.
That’s crazy, though. She has to know how stunning she is. Pretty. Soft. Petite. Kind. The list goes on and on.
The only thing I’m not clear on is why she’s here in my bed, doing this with me.
Eden surprises me yet again, pushing her hands under my T-shirt and touching my stomach muscles. They’re not from hours spent at the gym, or on the ice like her hockey-playing crush. My body was built on hard work and summers spent doing physical labor. But I doubt Eden’s thinking about such things right now as her mouth moves to the stubble on my throat.
When I reciprocate and put my hands under her tank top, Eden raises her arms, letting me pull it off over her head. She’s bare beneath, and I waste no time filling my hands with her gorgeous tits.
I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be letting myself do this. But for some reason, it’s my hands Eden wants on her body tonight, and I’m much too weak to stop myself.
“Holt . . .” She groans my name again when my fingers find her nipples and tease.
Her back arches, and my mouth moves from her neck to her chest, where I suck and kiss her perfect breasts.
We continue to kiss for a long time. I alternate between her plush lips and her tits, which I can’t seem to get enough of. But then Eden ups the ante yet again, unbuckling my belt and pushing her hand beneath my jeans. I groan as she strokes me over the fabric of my boxers. Her touch is careful and soft, but feels so good.
I lift her off of me, changing our positions so I can get her out of her jeans. When I unbutton them and pull them down over her hips, Eden shimmies, helping me. Soon, she’s naked in my bed, looking like the most delicious treat ever. I kiss a path down her stomach to her hip bone. She jolts like she’s ticklish, and I smile up at her.
When I put my mouth between her legs, she jolts again, but this time it’s from the shock of pleasure, not nerves. She stammers out my name, pushing one hand into my hair, holding me in place right where she wants me. Not that I plan on going anywhere. Not until she’s come on my tongue.
I suck and nibble and flick my tongue against her clit until she’s crying out in gasping sobs of pleasure. Another sixty seconds and Eden comes apart, quaking against my mouth as I hold her hips firmly in place, kissing her sensitive flesh until her moans subside.
A hot shiver of satisfaction rushes through me.
Once I kiss my way up her body, Eden tugs me close, and this time when she touches me, she’s brave enough to push her hand beneath the elastic of my boxer briefs. The touch of her delicate hand exploring me makes me dizzy.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say on a shaky exhale.
Eden brings her mouth to mine again, her tongue teasing my lips apart.
; I shove my boxers and jeans down and the rest of the way off, then I break our kiss only long enough to haul my T-shirt off over my head.
Eden’s hand continues its slow exploration, her fingertips trailing along my shaft, her hand reaching lower to cup my balls. It feels incredible, but she seems a little unsure of herself.
“Could you come like this?” she whispers, lightly stroking me.
“Grip me . . . harder,” I manage to say. “Yeah, like that.” I put my hand around hers, showing her how to touch me. “Now drag your hand up.”
She does, and the breath shudders out of me.
“Like that?”
I find her mouth again and kiss her hungrily while trying not to make deep, inarticulate sounds of pleasure. I’m pretty sure I fail miserably.
Fuck, that feels good.
“God, I want you.” I’ve always wanted you.
“Then have me,” she whispers back.
The prettiest three words I’ve ever heard. But she can’t mean that.
Her hand stills against me. “Do you have a condom?”
The words hang in the air between us.
“I . . .” Long awkward pause. Breathe, dude. “Why?”
Smooth, Holt.
“So we can be safe?” she says, her lips lifting in a smile.
“I’m not fucking you, Eden.”
My entire body throbs with the displeasure of that sentence leaving my lips. But it’s the right call. It’s the only call if I don’t want to hate myself in the morning.
“Why not?”
Why not? Because she’d end up regretting it, and I don’t think I could handle knowing Eden regretted sharing my bed. Tonight is already way more than I ever expected to share with her.
Don’t ruin it, Rossi.
“Because it’s not what you really want.”
“Don’t tell me what I want.” Her eyebrows knit together in frustration, but I smooth them with my thumb.
“You want revenge.”
She weighs my words, considering them carefully as she narrows her eyes again. “That might have been true before . . .”