Page 29 of Win You Over
“You could like me,” he suggests, his voice low, almost a whisper, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s referring to my remark about his mother. Remington turns his head on the cushion and our eyes meet. His cheeks turn rosy pink when he adds, “As a friend. You could like me as a friend.”
Where are my sky high, reinforced steel walls? Because yeah, I think I really could.
Chapter 12
Remington
Holden is the best fake boyfriend I could have asked for. My mother smiles at him constantly, as she pushes more food his way, and my father, who absolutely loves meeting new people, hasn't stopped talkingatHolden all night.
“Has Remington invited you to the Roverly RC Car Club yet?”
I plant an open palm over my face, groaning. “Dad! You don’t need to tell him about that.”
Holden looks at me, his bottom lip caught between his front teeth, and a mischievous sparkle in his brown eyes.
“Why not? Maybe he’d like to come with us one weekend,” Dad says, moving his attention back to Holden.
Holden places his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his folded hands. The fucker is thoroughly enjoying this evening of getting to know parts of me I seldom share.
Next thing I know, Mom will probably tell him about my intense fear of people in mascot costumes or how I’m a little afraid of the ocean.
“You should definitely come with us,” Dad continues. “There’s a great club about an hour outside of town. They have purpose built tracks both indoors and outdoors. We tend to alternate which cars we take with us. You’ve seen the collection in his room?” Dad asks and is met with an enthusiastic nod of Holden’s head.
“I bought Remington his first remote controlled car when he was three. Took him to his first club meeting at five and, last year he won the winter championship series.” My entire body heats with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride, and I’m tempted to correct dad. I’ve won the winter championship series three years in a row.
“Holden,” Dad says. “When we’re back from Italy, you’re coming with us. I have a 1:5 scale off-road racing buggy with a two stroke petrol engine that you can use and-”
“Honey,” Mom interrupts Dad with a hand on his arm. “Let’s not overwhelm the boy. I’m sure if Rem wants to bring Holden along,he’llinvite him.”
Dad looks at Holden, then me, and then back at Mom. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Sure.”
Well, thank fuck that’s over.
“Mom! The nail lady cancelled!” My sister enters the dining room like the whirlwind that she is. Uninvited, but here anyway. Nadine’s steps halt when her eyes land on Holden and her entire reason for barging into the house she no longer lives in is forgotten.
“Oh! Hi!” she beams, coming right to the table and sitting in the seat opposite Holden. “You must be the boyfriend. I’m Nadine. Best sister in the world, bride-to-be, prettiest member of the family.” She holds out her hand for Holden and he shoots me a look before tipping his lips into a half smile and tentatively shaking her hand.
“Nadine,” I say. “This is Holden.”
Nadine pulls the glass dish of mac and cheese towards her and takes a forkful, then shoves it into her mouth, before closing her eyes and making the most indecent sound before promptly pushing the glass dish away.
“My sister isn’t normally such an uncouth animal. I apologise for her,” I say, aiming my snark directly at Nadine.
“Oh, bite me, baby brother,” she retorts.
“Here we go,” Mom mutters under her breath.
Nadine and I go back and forth for a few moments, throwing playful insults at each other before her attention snags on Holden again.
She points a finger at me. “You sure you want to spend two weeks in Italy with this douche canoe?” she asks in jest. I snort-laugh but then slam my lips together when I see the way she’s looking at Holden. Expectantly, waiting for his reply.
Next to me, Holden stiffens, and up close, I can see the vein on the side of his neck flicker beneath the skin. He breaks eye contact with my sister, looking to the side towards a family portrait on the wall. There’s a subtle change to his breathing, like he’s consciously focusing on each inhale and exhale and when I look down, I catch a glimpse of his hand fisting the fabric of his jeans.
When the silence grows heavy, like an entity of its own in the room with us, it’s Mom who breaks it.
“Rem, why don’t you and Holden go get the ice cream out of the freezer, while Nadine tells me what’s happened with the nail lady.”
Without overthinking it, I reach my hand under the table and take hold of his, prying his fingers open and slipping mine between his. Holden’s eyes widen, but when I tug him, he stands and follows me into the kitchen. I leave him standing next to the island while I pull out the ice cream container and five bowls. When I turn around, he has his hands covering his face, his fingers gripping the strands of his long brown hair where they fall over his forehead.
