Page 86 of Never Your Girl

“She still passed with flying colors,” her mom continues, oblivious to Holland’s discomfort. “No matter what happens, my baby girl always figures out a way to succeed.”

My chest tightens at the pride in her voice, mixed with something that feels too much like absolution. Like her daughter’s resilience somehow makes up for everything she put her through.

I watch the interaction, feeling like an outsider to a private war. That’s when it hits me that Holland’s had to be the adult in this relationship for a long time. Every sharp edge, every wall she’s built, makes so much more sense now. This girl has been carrying more weight than anyone should have to, and her mom’s carefree attitude only underscores it.

“She shouldn’t have had to figure it out,” I say before I can stop myself. Holland’s head snaps toward me, shock written across her expression.

Her mother’s smile falters. “Excuse me?”

“Bridger,” Holland warns softly, but I can’t let this go.

“She was a kid,” I say, keeping my voice level, even though it feels like an impossible task. “Kids shouldn’t have to figure out how to study in the dark.”

The silence that follows that comment is thick enough to cut through. Jigsaw shifts in his seat while Holland’s mom stares at me, her earlier warmth cooling by several degrees.

“You’re right,” she admits in a softer tone. “She shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“Mom, he didn’t mean it like?—”

Vivienne’s brow furrows. “No, it’s true. I thank my lucky stars that Holland turned out the way she did. She’s so put together and driven. So…” There’s a pause before she adds softly, “Not like me.”

“Mom,” Holland murmurs, “there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Vivienne dabs at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “We both know that I’m a mess. But I’m trying.” She glances at Jigsaw. “For the first time in my life, I finally feel like I have a true partner in crime.”

The burly man wraps an arm around her shoulders before tugging her close and pressing a kiss against the crown of her forehead. “We’re in this together, babe.”

She casts a watery smile toward her daughter. “I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve made my share of mistakes.” Her expression turns sheepish. “Okay, more than my share. But Holland? She’s a fighter. Despite having me as a mother, she turned out pretty damn amazing, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” I say softly, looking at the girl next to me with fresh eyes. “I do.”

Holland’s face is a study in conflicting emotions. Embarrassment, anger, and something else I can’t quite read. Under the table, her knee presses against mine, but I can’t tell if it’s a warning or a thank you.

“Your dinners will be out in just a few. Anyone need a refill?” The waitress appears like a gift from the awkward conversation gods.

“Please,” Holland and I say in unison.

Her mom laughs, breaking the tension just a bit. “Oh, look how in sync these two already are. I love it.”

“So, Bridger,” Jigsaw speaks up, clearly trying to steer us toward safer waters. “What are your plans after college? Looking to play hockey?”

“No, I’ll probably get into marketing,” I say, grateful for the change in topic. “My cousin Steele’s family owns a marketing firm and I’ve already been offered a position.”

“Your cousin’s name is Steele?” Her mom perks up. “Do all your family members have such unique names?”

“Mom,” Holland groans, but I catch her fighting a smile.

“Actually,” I lean forward and say with a straight face, “my real name is Chad. I just thought Bridger was more interesting.”

Holland nearly chokes on the sip of water she just took. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

I raise my brows. “What? You can’t see yourself with someone named Chad?”

Her mouth falls open as her brows shoot up her forehead. “I…”

“Just kidding.” I grin, nudging her shoulder. “The look on your face was priceless, though.”

“I really hate you,” she says with a small laugh, all her previous tension dissolving, which is exactly what I wanted.

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