Did you see Beau McCrae too?”
I laugh. “No, we missed Beau. But we did see Kelvin … who is Holt’s brother? Did you know that?”
“Um, yeah. Everyone in Savannah knows that.”
“Well, I didn’t. Imagine my surprise when I’d gone on and on about him to Holt. I was so embarrassed.”
Sienna giggles. “That’s hilarious.”
I sit up in bed again and feel the sunlight on my shoulders. It warms the air and makes it possible to consider climbing out of bed.
“You need to lay your cards out with Holt,” Sienna says. “You can’t come back here and not know where things stand. And I think—and you do, too, that he probably feels the same way.”
I close my eyes and fight the urge to put my feelings into the universe. It’s too risky.
“You guys can take it slow,” Sienna says. “It’s not like either of you are looking to get married next month or something.”
“True ...”
Her voice softens. “Just believe in yourself and the possibility of love. I believe in you.”
“You know what?” I get out of bed. “This whole being friends thing was working out pretty well. But now you’re acting like we’re in a sappy movie, and I’m rethinking my decision to call you about this stuff.”
She laughs. “You love me.”
“Stop with the l-word. Geesh.”
Her laughter grows louder. Eventually, mine mixes with it.
The sound makes me feel full in a way I’ve never experienced. I feel supported in a way that’s new to me. Sienna likes me for who I am—my difficulties and all.
Maybe this friendship thing isn’t too bad. And maybe she’s right. Maybe I do love her.
I stretch my arms overhead and feel my muscles pull. The knots in the back of my neck from being bent onto Holt’s shoulder all night scream for me to take a hot shower.
I glance at the clock. I have time before Holt comes to pick me up for brunch.
“I gotta go,” I tell Sienna. “I need to get a shower and then get ready.”
“You go and have fun. And Blaire?”
“Yeah?”
“You can do this. Trust me.”
I grin. “Thanks … friend.”
I know she’s smiling on the other side. It makes my grin grow wider.
“You’re welcome … friend.”
I end the call and head to the shower.
Twenty-Seven
Holt
“After you,” I say, holding the door open for Blaire.
The chaos from my parents’ house slams into us as soon as we enter. It’s the sound of home to me—family and food and fun all blended together into one crazy cacophony of the life that I love.
I watch Blaire out of the corner of my eye. This scene can be a lot to absorb, but she looks unfazed.
Larissa is in the kitchen with my mother. Steam rises from the sink as they put together a “quick brunch,” as my mom called it. It’ll be a full meal. It always is. My father and brothers sit at the dining room table off the kitchen with cups of coffee in their hands.
They greet us with waves and hellos.
Except Coy. He gets to his feet.
“Hey, Lover Boy,” Coy calls as he walks toward us. His cocky smile is tinted with just enough kindness to keep me from punching him in the face. “I thought Boone was lying when he said you brought a woman to my show last night.”
Blaire reaches for my hand. I let her take it and hope that it’s a show of solidarity between us and not to keep herself steady because of Coy.
He stops in front of us. His hair has been lightened and sticks up in a complete mess that I think is intentional. His jeans are ripped. I know Mom doesn’t understand the phrase on his shirt because she’d never allow it in her house.
It’s Coy, pure and simple. The ornery one of the bunch. The rule-bender and boundary-pusher that he’s always been.
Despite his don’t-give-a-fuck vibe and history of bad decisions, I still have a ton of respect for him. He has an innate business sense like Oliver and me. He just uses it in a different way.
He slips his hands in his pockets and fires Blaire a grin. “I hope you liked my show.”
“It was very entertaining,” she replies. “Your fans certainly got their money’s worth.”
“Two of them did.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. Good to see you, too, big brother.”
“Nice to see you too. How’s tour life?”
“Not bad. I have one more stop in Miami, and then we’re done.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’ll be nice not