It had been two years since I’d set foot in New York, two years since I’d smelled the roasted nuts from the food carts near Central Park, two years since I’d attempted to hail a cab in the rain. There were parts of the city that were embedded in me, and being back was a little like coming home, but more than that, it solidified my certainty that I’d made the right decision in leaving.
I looked over at Holden, who was staring out the window as we passed a patisserie on Madison Avenue. He had a wistful expression on his face, and I wondered how he felt about being back. The day before, he’d been more than a little apprehensive. I’d caught him fidgeting with his hands more than once and knew how stressed out he was about facing his father.
I felt a little of the same apprehension. I hadn’t seen Philip since I’d quit. There was bad blood between us, but it was made even worse with the entrance of Holden into my life. The way Philip treated me didn’t hold a candle to what he’d put Holden through. I was proud of him for standing up to his father, even though I wasn’t sure how it was all going to go down.
No matter what happened, though, Holden had me. I had his back no matter what.
The cab driver dropped us off in front of the hotel, and the bellman was at the ready to help us upstairs with our bags. Check-in was seamless, and within minutes we were standing in our room, admiring the view over the park.
I pulled Holden to me, hooking my arm across his chest and kissing the side of his neck.
“How does it feel to be back?” I asked, enjoying the way he relaxed against me, his chest rising and falling as he breathed.
He was silent for a beat, and I felt him tense slightly. “Weird. Different than I thought I would. I guess I won’t be able to really tell you until after I see my father, but even being back in the city—everything that was so familiar, all the stuff that was part of my everyday routine now seems kind of foreign, like it was someone else’s life.”
“It kind of was. So much has changed for you in the last three months.”
“That’s the understatement of the decade.”
“Any regrets?” As soon as the question left my mouth, there was a sense of disquiet over what Holden’s answer would be. I knew he was happy. I knew he loved me. It was obvious in the way his posture seemed to become more relaxed when I had my hands on him. Still, there was a small space in the back of my mind that held on to the possibility that Holden’s feelings for me weren’t as deep as mine for him. It was that small space that waited with trepidation.
“None. Going to Alaska in the first place wasn’t my idea, but things work out in a weird way sometimes. And to think, the number of times I cursed my father’s name for sending me.”
“Are you nervous about seeing him again?”
“No. Not looking forward to it, but I think I need that closure.”
“That’s what this is for you? Closure?”
“Yep. My father has always had such a hold over me. It was partly my demented sense of hero worship when it came to him and his accomplishments, and partly manipulation on his part.” He huffed a sigh. “I probably need some pretty hefty doses of psychotherapy.”
I laughed softly. “We’re all a little messed up, but you’re stronger than you think. And if you need some extra support, I’m gonna be right next to you.”
He leaned his head back against my shoulder and covered my hand with his, squeezing gently. “Have I told you I love you?”
If the theories about multiple universes were true, there wasn’t a single one in which I wouldn’t love Holden with everything I had. And I would never get tired of hearing that he loved me too. I kissed his temple. “I love you too.”
He turned in my arms and slid his hands along the side of my face, pulling me in to kiss him.
I pulled back, my stomach flipping just looking at him. His eyes were unfocused and a little dreamy, and his lips were wet and darker than normal. I loved that I could do that to him, that I had that effect on him because he had the same one on me.
“What time are we meeting Frankie?”
“Eight. He’s meeting us at Revery then.”
I cocked one eyebrow. “So that leaves us nearly four hours.”
Holden grinned back at me, and my stomach flipped a second time. “What ever will we do to pass the time?”
I slipped my fingers behind the waist of his jeans and tugged the button open. “I dunno… You got any ideas?”
His pocket vibrated, and he tossed his head back as he laughed. “Whoever’s calling me has the absolute worst timing.”
“Let it go to voicemail,” I said, sliding my hands down over his ass, then pulling his earlobe into my mouth to suck gently. He tilted his head to give me better access, and the vibrating stopped.
And then started up again.
Holden groaned, but I didn’t stop groping him. I’d never get enough of this.
“I… should probably check… to see…”
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed against his throat as he let his head fall back.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he held it up to see the caller ID.
“Hey, Frankie.” He sounded breathless, and there was no way Frankie wasn’t going to know he was interrupting. I could hear the voice on the other end of the line, but his words were too muffled to make out.
Holden’s head snapped up. “What?”
I took a step back, and he began to pace, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. Gone was the relaxed, turned-on Holden from a moment before. In his place was a walking ball of tension, rigid and alert.
“What’s going on?” I mouthed when Holden made eye contact. He shook his head. I shoved my hands in my pockets and waited. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. I’d seen Holden deal with high-stress situations like they were nothing.
This obviously wasn’t nothing.
I waited with impatience for him to hang up, and when he did, he looked spooked.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Frankie... He was talking so fast, but the cops are at Westbridge.”
“What? What the hell for?”
“My father’s being arrested.”