Page 66 of Holly Freakin' Hughes

Bensighed. “I know. I just thought you deserved something nice, and just because Idon’t want to be with you doesn’t mean I don’tlikeyou. I know I shouldhave ended things sooner, but I guess I felt bad ditching you after everythingyou’ve been through. That’s why I invited you over last night. I thought … Ithought you wouldn’t want to be single on New Years’ Eve.”

Despitethe sting of knowing he was with me only out of pity, a sigh of relief passedthrough my lips, my shoulders instantly feeling lighter at the sensation ofbeing free. “Are you serious? I’ve been ready to break up for … a while,” Isaid, not wanting to give him the exact answer, because telling him that Iwasn’t feeling him the first night we slept together seemed cruel.

“Ihave feelings for someone else,” he stated without warning, and I felt lighterstill. “Nothing has happened while we’ve been together, I wouldn’t do that, butI’ve been ignoring my feelings for a while, and—yeah, I think it’s time.”

Ismiled at that, sticking my head out the door of my room to see Brandon in thekitchen, poking through the refrigerator. “I know the feeling.”

Benlet out a light and airy laugh. “Holy crap, I’m sorelieved—but hey,what we had was okay. It was fun. I think I needed it to jump back into the wholerelationship thing.”

“Yeah,me too,” I sighed with a smile, sitting back on my bed. “Well, good luck withher. I hope everything works out for you.”

“Youtoo, Holly.”

Theheavy footsteps came down the hall just as I was hanging up the phone.

“So,you find yourself single once again,” Brandon mused, handing me a mug beforetaking a long, thoughtful sip from his own.

Inodded my confirmation before taking a long, slow sip of the steaming hot blackcoffee. “How much did you hear?”

“Enoughto know you’re single,” he said with a lopsided smile. I took another sip andgrimaced at the bitter taste. “I actually have no idea how you take yourcoffee,” he mentioned apologetically. “You’re always drinking that damn leafwater.”

Ilaughed. “Black is fine.”

“Yeah,well, it doesn’t look fine but thanks for saying so.” He reached his fingersout to run them over Camille’s back, and she immediately arched in appreciationat his touch. His breathtakingly blue eyes looked into mine, sending an icychill down my spine as they seemed to beg me with a sadness I couldn’t quitepinpoint. “Spend the day with me, Holly.”

“Whatdo you want to do?” I asked, never once considering no as my answer.

“Whatshould have happened months ago.”

***

Agrocery store.

That’swhat he had in mind.

Imean, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when I had finished my coffee,chasing it down with the appropriate amount of Advil, and Brandon instructed meto get dressed. When I asked what I should wear, because I hadn’t the slightestclue what the dress code might’ve been wherever we were going, he looked at meas though I had just sprouted four additional heads.

“Wearwhatever the hell you want,” he said with a laugh before heading off into thekitchen to make himself another cup of coffee.

Withdetermination to prove to him that I owned something other than yoga pants andsweatshirts, I dug my way through drawers of clothes that hadn’t been touchedin six months at the least and prayed to every power I could think of that,after my shower, I could still squeeze my ass into the leggings and sweater Ihad chosen.

Ibrushed my teeth (twice), coated my lashes with too-old mascara, managed aquick sweep of black eyeliner, slapped on a bit of lipstick, and dusted mycheeks with a little blush. I even raked a brush through my hair a few times,apologizing to the knots that once had big dreams of becoming dreadlocks.

WhenI felt I had sufficiently cleaned myself up enough to make a lastingimpression, I zipped an old pair of boots over my calves, a bit startled thatthey didn’t fit as well as they once did. I walked down the hall to findBrandon lying comfortably on the couch with his head and feet resting onopposite armrests, his thumbs tapping wildly across the screen of his phone.

He’shuge.

Thethought popped into my head, stating the fact as though I hadn’t beenpreviously aware of it.

“Howtall are you?” I asked, startling him from his texting.

“Sixfoot four,” he replied with a warm chuckle, turning his head slightly beforelooking back at the screen.

Hewas wearing the Foo Fighters t-shirt I had given him, and his pants hadmiraculously changed from his pajamas to a pair of jeans that had been wornalmost completely through to the knees. I thought about asking if he were a wizardor just anticipated spending the night, but I didn’t have to.

“Ihad them in my car from an overnight business trip.” He stood, slipping thephone into his pocket before taking a moment to observe my thrown togetherensemble. “You’re not wearing your uniform.”

Myeyes rolled playfully. “I do own something other than yoga pants andsweatshirts, you know. Remember the dress?”

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