Page 79 of Holly Freakin' Hughes

Dadcocked his head and peered at me over the rims of his sunglasses, reminding meof a less birdlike Nick. “Hey, when you get to be my age, you’llwishthe girls that young still looked at you. I can’t remember the last time theylooked at me like—”

“Jack!”Mom smacked at him with flailing hands from her chair. “You’re cut off now.You’re only a pig when you drink.”

Isnorted at that and took another sip of the beer that had stopped tasting goodtwo bottles earlier. My face contorted into one expressing my distaste, but Iswallowed hard, and tried to remember what the hell it was I had hoped toaccomplish by running away. Because all that I had managed to do was finishmost of the book.

Withfew excuses to distract me from the task, and acting as a distraction initself, I had worked tirelessly at getting the thing down on my laptop and outof my head, knowing it was a matter of days before I would send the manuscriptoff to the editor. Nick had already emailed me with the promotional details andgentle reminders that there would need to be another photoshoot (or seven,knowing their fickle tendencies), and that I better be keeping my ass in shapein between lazy lounges on Florida’s sandy shores.

Januarywas coming to a close, and the real world was beckoning me back to it, with theanniversary party coming up in the next couple of weeks. I reluctantly acceptedthat I would need to return to the great Empire State sooner rather than later,and I just hoped I could successfully ignore that I knew exactly where shelived. I hoped I could continue to ignore her phone number, and that I knewwhere I could find her on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I would have to resist thetemptation, because she had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do withme. If her walking out hadn’t been enough proof of that, her lack ofcommunication certainly was, but God, what I would have given to see that smileone more time.

Myeyes took on a wistful gaze as my heart thrummed the reminder of how badly ithurt to be broken. I stared off into the fading sunset, looking past the ocean,and into the small library of memories I kept at close hand. I accessed them sooften that some had even begun to fade, like an old worn blanket. Comfortableand cozy, and yet fuzzy and forgotten with wear. But others remained fresh, asthough they had just happened. The scent of her hair, the taste of her skin,and the sound of her laugh could never be refreshed again, and I still wouldnever forget. I held onto those cherished memories then, staring off in a daze,replaying them over and over again until I heard Mom whisper something, and Dadplaced a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey,kid,” he said, giving me a gentle shake. “Mom and I are worried about you.”

Ireached up to scratch the beard I had allowed to grow over the month. “You guysdon’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

Momstood up, her long sundress billowing around her legs in the light oceanbreeze, and walked over to perch herself at the edge of my lounge. She placed agraceful, weathered hand on my chest, touching the healing tattoo over myheart. I winced at the touch and she apologized, immediately removing her handfrom the sensitive skin and rested it on my arm instead.

“Ilove having you here, you know that?” she said with a smile, and I nodded. Itwas hard to forget when she told me a number of times throughout every day.“But I want you to leave.”

“What?”I asked, laughing. “You beg me to come down here all the time, and now you’rekicking me out?”

Shetook my hands and looked to my dad for support. He remained silent with alittle encouraging wave of his hand.

“Honey,you’ve gotten a lot of work done, and that’s great. But your father and I agreethat you need to go home, and back to her. And for the love of God, thisdrinking has to stop. You haven’t been like this since Julia.”

“Iwas worse with Julia,” I said defiantly, and in fairness, that was the truth. Ihadn’t yet drunken myself to the point of passing out every night for twoweeks.

“Ican’t go back to Holly. She made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want me, andI have to respect that.” I dropped my half-empty bottle into the sand. “And don’tworry about the drinking. I don’t think I can stomach anymore of this fuckingshit.”

“Language,”she scolded, and I raised an apologetic hand. “Anyway, B., if you love thiswomanthatmuch to let her go, then she’s worth fighting for just alittle, and you haven’t fought at all yet. You haven’t evencalledher!”

“Ifshe wanted to talk, she would have called me,” I stated bitterly. I had oftenwondered why she hadn’t, but wondering had proven to be nothing but anotherreminder that she had made her choice; she didn’t want me and there was nothingI could do about it.

Dadbroke his silence with a disapproving grunt. “Come on, Brandon, you’re a smartman. I mean, you didn’t exactly invite her into your world by dumping someheavy news on top of her. You admitted that you had kept her from it, but youdidn’t exactly say she could be included.”

“Itold her I would give it up for her,” I grumbled, painfully aware of theguilt-stricken realization that flooded my veins.

“Honey,throwing your career away sounds noble, but that in itself says you can’t haveherandyour job,” Mom chimed in, squeezing my arm.

Ibit hard against my lower lip, scraping my teeth through my facial hair. “Howmany times do I have to get the shit kicked out of me before I realize that myworld doesn’t have room for—”

“Kid,I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, but cut the shit. That was Julia.Not every woman is going to be her. So, Holly didn’t call you. She needed sometime to sort through this crap, but so did you. You ran just like she did, anddon’t you think it’s time to stop running and act like a man?”

Myeyes stared into the hazy sunlight, blinking in time to the whispering of myheart that sounded an awful lot like her name. It would always whisper hername, whether she was with me or not. That much wouldn’t change, I knew, and ifshe rejected me again, then I would have to live with that. But …

Inodded slowly with my decision made and pulled myself from the lounge. “Well,guys, this has been fun.”

“Whereare you going?” Mom asked, watching as I picked up my warm bottle of beer fromthe sand.

“Well,”I said, squinting up at the condo, “I figured I’d pack my shit, throw Tolkienin the car, take a nice cruise up the East Coast, and rescue my damsel.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

HOLLY

“Crockpot coming through!”

Idodged Ben on my way to the cabinet housing the plates Liz only recentlystarted using, since Ben decided to start bringing dinner over a couple times aweek.

---