Page 78 of Never Your Girl

Guilt presses down on me as I stare at the screen. She’s right. I’ve been MIA, and it’s not fair to her.

Me

Yeah, sorry about that. Things have been busy.

Her reply is quick.

FragileLikeABomb

No worries. Just glad you’re okay.

Our conversation feels off. Stilted in a way it never has before. Usually, our chats flow effortlessly, like we’ve known each other forever. But that’s not the case this evening.

Even though my response isn’t exactly a lie, that’s what it feels like I’m doing.

Lying to her.

Maybe I should end it.

The thought makes my stomach churn. Fragile has always been there for me, and now I’m just going to ditch her because things with Holland have become complicated?

What kind of person does that make me?

I’m still staring at the screen, lost in thought, when Holland appears out of nowhere.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft but steady.

I glance up, and just like that, everything in me eases. Seeing her does that to me, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around why. My gaze drifts over her outfit, and I sit up straighter, the tension in my shoulders momentarily forgotten.

Holy fuck.

Holland looks more like a walking distraction. She’s rocking a black band T-shirt that clings to her curves in all the right ways, and a leather jacket that’s just a touch too big, giving her an effortlessly cool vibe. But it’s the rest of her outfit that nearly derails me. My gaze slides over her short plaid skirt that’s paired with black fishnet tights. If that wasn’t enough, her socks have tiny pink lip prints stamped on them. The look is finished off with platform sneakers that somehow make her legs look even longer.

In all the time I’ve known Holland, I’ve never seen her wear a skirt.

I like it.

Too damn much.

She drops into the seat across from me, pulling me out of my daze.

“Hey,” I manage to reply, shoving my phone into my pocket and trying not to blatantly stare. My voice falters as my brain scrambles for words. “You look…”

Her brow quirks, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “Nice?”

“Better than that.” The word tumbles off my tongue before I can stop it. “Hot.”

Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her head, a small, self-conscious smile tugging at her mouth. “Thanks,” she murmurs before meeting my gaze again. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not really.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. “Although, I’m not sure how you expect me to get any work done when you look like that.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she says with a snort.

I narrow my eyes playfully, the corner of my mouth tugging upward. “We’ll see.”

“Yes, we will,” she counters, her smile growing as she pulls out her laptop. The easy banter between us settles something inside me, like a knot loosening after being pulled too tight.

For the first time all day, I finally feel like I can breathe again.

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