When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys #2) - Emma Scott Page 0,38
constricted, I could breathe. Maybe for the first time in months. Years, even.
Holden read all of it; a lazy, infuriating smile spreading over his lips. He lingered in that thick moment—torturing me with possibilities—then backed off, breaking the spell.
“You’re ready for the ball, Prince Charming. King, I should say.” His gaze raked me up and down in the sleek black tux and pale blue tie. “You look every bit the part.”
I’m tired of playing it.
I sucked in another breath, deep and even, while Holden leaned on my dresser again. He pulled a packet of clove cigarettes, black embossed with gold, from his coat pocket.
“You can’t smoke in here.”
“Of course not. Not here.” He arched a thick but perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Somewhere else?”
Inhale. Exhale.
I can breathe…
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
Holden and I snuck out the front door and hurried down my driveway as twilight turned to night. I felt like a thief who’d robbed his own house.
“Let’s take your truck,” Holden said and waved at a driver leaning against the side of a black Cadillac parked just down the street.
“Why? Where are we going?”
“I don’t want you to accuse me later of kidnapping you.” He shot me a heated glance. “Mostly, I just want to watch you drive.”
Fuck.
Everything this bastard said or did, every look that flashed across his eyes, was sexy as hell.
“As to where we’re going,” he said as we climbed into the cab of my Chevy, “don’t worry about it. I’ll navigate.”
I started up my truck’s engine as the black sedan drove away. “That was your personal driver?”
“He was.” Holden turned to me with a grin. “Tonight, it’s you.”
Fuck, again.
In the falling dark, we left my upper-middle class neighborhood and headed south. The houses grew larger, separated by gates and dense trees that provided privacy. It was a short drive—after only a few minutes, we crested a hill and the ocean spread out before us; deep blue streaked the orange of the setting sun.
“That one.”
Holden pointed at a huge modern house in white with geometric windows framed in black steel. Every window was dark.
I gave a low whistle and started to pull the truck into the drive. “You live here?”
“Park on the side,” he said. “Can’t leave grease marks on the driveway.”
I parked, killed the engine and started to follow him out of the truck’s cab when I came to my damn senses.
“Shit, wait. What am I doing? I completely ditched Violet.” I fished my phone out of my tux pocket. A text from her waited.
I’m here. Coming soon?
“I have to go back. I can’t do this to her.”
“She’ll get over it,” Holden said. “Trust me.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“I told you. She and one of my best friends are soul mates.”
“Didn’t seem that way at the party,” I said, then remembered Miller Stratton’s death glare when I joined Violet in the closet. “Miller’s your friend?”
Holden nodded. “We need to give them a chance.”
“But…she agreed to come with me to the dance. I can’t just ditch her.”
“You can if it’s for a good cause. Which it is.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know…”
“Can you please, for one goddamn second, spare a thought for yourself?” Holden demanded with sudden sharpness. “Is that what you want? To be with Violet? Answer me honestly. If you do, then I’ll get out of this truck and you can drive back to the school and have your dance and wear your crown and carry on, business as usual. Or…”
“Or?”
“Stay with me.”
Goddamn, Holden’s eyes in the light of my cab pierced me, flooded me with possibilities of a life that was closer to what I wanted. Closer to who I was. So close, all I had to do was reach out and touch it. Him…
I swallowed hard and my fingers typed a text to Violet.
I can’t make it. I’m sorry.
“An excellent choice,” Holden said, now all smiles. “Stay quiet. This neighborhood is filled with stuffy busybodies. I don’t need anyone complaining to my aunt and uncle.”
“You don’t live with your parents?”
“They died in a tragic hot air-balloon accident over the Panama Canal.”
“What…?”
“Just kidding. They’re alive and well in Seattle. Unfortunately.”
He kept walking and I had to hurry to follow. Quietly, we went up the house’s immaculate walk. By the light of his gold Zippo, he punched in a security code on a black console. It made a mechanical sound and then the door opened a crack.
I followed Holden inside, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering how far I was going to take this timeout.