Restraint - Adriana Locke Page 0,29
last night working on a tractor in a field somewhere. They’re just dolls this morning, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Oh, I know how they can be.”
“Right. And then they went by Nana’s this morning for breakfast, and guess what they found?”
“I have no idea.”
“A man,” she squeals. “And apparently he’d stayed there all night last night. Your cousin kind of lost his mind a little bit, and Walker just got … well, grumpier. They said seeing him at Sunday dinner was one thing, but this was another. I’m totally loving it, though!”
“Wow,” I say, trying to wrap my mind around that tidbit of information. “Good for her. I’m not sure I’m ready for my grandmother to have sleepovers, but I’m sure I’m dealing with that better than my brothers and Peck.”
“I’m so happy for her. She’s been glowing lately. She deserves to be happy.”
“Absolutely.”
I chew on the edge of my fingernail as I rule out the possibility of staying at Nana’s. Listening to Sienna and Walker going at it is one thing. Potentially hearing Nana and a guy getting down is a whole other world I’m not ready to process.
That leaves two options—Holt’s or a hotel in Chicago.
“Hey, Sienna. I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“How well do you actually know Holt Mason?”
Her giggle is ridiculous. I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“I know him pretty well. We grew up around their family. I know his youngest brother, Boone, the best. He’s closer to my age. But all the Masons are really familiar to me.” She smacks her lips together. “May I ask why you’re inquiring about this specific tall, dark, and handsome man?”
I roll my eyes again—this time, at myself. The excitement in her voice has worked its way through the phone and into my veins. I fidget as I try to put together a proper response.
“We had lunch today,” I say. “I’m just curious.”
“Oooh.”
“Sienna.”
She sighs. “Let me love this, Blaire. Please? I’m supposed to love this.”
“There’s nothing to love.”
“But there is. You don’t know how this works, obviously.” She sighs again for effect. “See—when you call a girlfriend and bring up a hot guy, that means you’re interested or there’s a story there. It’s your way of bringing the item to the table. So, my job, as your girlfriend, is to be excited for you. Or to be ready to throttle him, but I don’t think that’s the direction this conversation is going to go. Is it?”
The end of her question is loaded with innuendo. It’s clear she’s giddy over the idea of something happening between her childhood crush and me. And by the smile spreading across my cheeks, it would be clear to her—if she could see me—that I am a little bit happy too.
“He is hot, isn’t he?” I ask.
She laughs. “Yes. He so is. Now tell me all the things.”
I pace in a circle and attempt to slow down my thoughts. “My building in Chicago has asbestos, and I can’t get back in for a week or so.”
“And …”
“And I could stay with you and Walker.”
“Of course.”
“I was thinking about staying with Nana, but if she’s ….” I wince. “I’m not staying with Nana.”
She pauses, letting the silence work between us before speaking. “No, you’re not. You’re staying with Holt.”
I suck in a quick breath. “Well …”
“Blaire!” she shrieks. “You are? I mean, I was just throwing shit at the wall and hoping something stuck. You’re going to stay with him?”
“I don’t know,” I say, rushed. “I’m not sure. He offered to let me stay with him, and I’m thinking about it. I just don’t know a lot about him and wanted to at least … explore the possibility, I guess.”
She giggles. “Say yes.”
“You’re not thinking clearly, Sienna.”
“Oh, but Blaire—I am,” she says with exaggerated sincerity. “He’s from a great family. Smart. Kind. He’s funny and always smells amazing, and I know he’d show you a good time—in any way you might want to take that.”
She drones on and on about Holt’s virtues, but I stop listening. Mostly because my mind starts imagining what it might be like to actually be in his home.
I pretend to say yes and allow that decision to sit in my stomach. I close my eyes as Sienna veers away from Holt and onto the virtues of getaways and try to see what it feels like to take him up on his offer.
And strangely, it feels good. Fun. Exciting. Those are three things that are a bit foreign