NINETEEN
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
New York City
The Holt Residence
From where we’re standing on the pavement, the Holt brownstone looks huge and imposing. I shudder.
Okay, Cassie, be cool. You’ll be fine.
When I look at Holt, I notice he seems nervous, too.
I take a deep breath. “So, what’s the plan?”
He frowns. “The plan?”
“How do we behave in front of your parents? Are we hiding that we’re together?”
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“Then we won’t.”
He says it with conviction, but I don’t miss the flash of panic.
“So, what? We’re going to tell them we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”
He hesitates for just a second. “Uh … yes.”
I’m still not convinced. “So, you’re my boyfriend, Ethan, bringing home his girlfriend, Cassie, to meet his parents?”
“Yes.” Less hesitation that time, but it’s still there.
“Just a normal boyfriend and girlfriend, spending time with your folks and doing normal boyfriend and girlfriend things. All boyfriendy and girlfriendy—”
“Okay, stop saying ‘boyfriend and girlfriend.’ It’s annoying.”
“I’ll stop if you say it.”
“Why?”
“So I know you can.”
“I said it at Jack’s.”
“That was ages ago. Say it again.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re my girlfriend, okay? My very hot, very irritating girlfriend.”
“Aw, boyfriend, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, your girlfriend.”
He shakes his head and tries not to laugh. “Will you stop now?”
“Of course.” I wait a second before asking, “Can I call you ‘sweetie’?”
“No.”
“Cupcake?”
“No.”
“Angel-cheeks?”
“Fuck, no.”
“Okay, fine. Just so we’re both on the same page.”
He laughs, and I join him, but I’m so faking it. At least laughing helps me pretend I’m not terrified.
“But listen,” he says and takes my hand. “Let me tell mom and dad when the time is right, okay? A few days ago, I swore up and down to my mother that you weren’t my girlfriend, and I said the same thing when I told her you were coming to stay. I don’t want to just walk in there and blurt it out, or I’ll look like a jackass. Just give me some time, okay?”
I want to argue that he’s hiding how he feels about me again, but after what he did at the party, I know that’s not what this is about.
I look up at the door again, and my nervousness expands. I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before. Heck, I’ve never had a boyfriend before, let alone parents to meet. I mean, yes, I’d met them before, but I wasn’t his girlfriend then.
Holt must notice my tension, because he leans down and kisses me, tender and lingering. When he pulls back, I feel a little better.
“Cassie, you’re going to be fine. Stop freaking out.”
“What if they hate me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’ve already met you, and I can confidently say my dad prefers you to me. I’m the one who should be nervous here. If Mom gets drunk, she’s likely to pull out the family photo album and show you naked pictures of her boy.”
I stifle a laugh. “Would they be recent pictures? Because … hmmm. I’d like to see those.”
He shakes his head, goes to the trunk, and removes our bags. “Yes, my mother has a full set of pictures of her grown son, naked. That’s totally normal.”
“Hey, a girl can dream.”
He locks the car, and when I go to grab my bag, he shoos me away before he picks it up and gestures for me to head up the stairs.
“Such a gentleman with the bag carrying,” I say.
He gives me a wry smile. “If you still think I’m a gallant gentlemen after I’ve been your boyfriend for a while, it’ll be a first. Better start lowering your expectations.”
“Never. Like my hemlines, my expectations will remain high.”
He gives my legs a sultry appraisal, before he opens the door and leads me into the entranceway of his home. “Mom! Elissa! We’re here!”
I hear a high-pitched yapping, followed by scrambling claws on the wooden floor. Then a furry ball with legs explodes into view at the end of the hallway. It bounds toward us in a blur of long, tan fur and pink tongue. When it reaches Holt, it jumps up at his knees and begs to be picked up.
He drops the bags and scoops the puppy into his arms, then holds it away from him, as it tries to lick his face.
“Jesus, Tribble, cool it. We have company.” The tiny dog squirms and yaps, and although Holt’s scowling, I can tell he’s smitten. “Tribble, this is Cassie. She’s going to stay with us for a few days, so behave yourself.”
I go to pet her, but Holt stops me.
“Careful. She’s weird with strangers. Especially women.”
Tribble watches me suspiciously with black eyes as she sniffs my hand. Then her lips pull back, and she emits a tiny growl. If it were any other dog, it might be frightening, but coming from her, it’s adorable.
Holt pulls her away and glares. “Tribble, no. Stop being a bitch.”
When he puts her on the floor, she eyes me with disdain before turning on her heel and trotting away.
“Sorry about her,” Ethan’s mother says as she comes down the hallway. “She hates everyone except for Ethan. She tolerates Charles and me because we feed her, but it’s a tenuous relationship at best. Welcome, Cassie. So nice to see you.”
She gives me a hug before she kisses Ethan on the cheek. There’s something about the way he smiles at his mom that makes me melt.
“Dad’s not home?”
Maggie shakes her head. “No. Working late.”
It doesn’t escape my attention that news of his father’s absence makes Ethan’s whole posture relax.
“So,” Mrs. Holt says, “dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you show Cassie to her room, so she can freshen up? Elissa will be home in about fifteen minutes, and then we’ll eat.”
Holt leads me up the stairs into a comfortable bedroom and sets my bag down on the bed. I can feel him eyeing me for approval, as I look around.
“So, this is it,” he says with a wave of his hand.
“Nice.”
The décor is modern but comfortable, and the bed is huge. Considering I’m used to a lumpy single, this is luxury. I flop back to test the bed’s bounce-ability. It’s only when I turn to Ethan that I realize he’s staring. Straight at my boobs.
“Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says, his expression intense. Never before have bathroom directions been so arousing.
“Where’s your room?” I notice how tall and broad he is as he stands above me.
“Next door down.”
“So, close then?”
“Very.”
“Can I see it?” Pretty sure I’m still talking about his bedroom.
I don’t know why the thought of seeing his childhood bedroom turns me on, but it totally does.
He tries to play it cool, but the way he taps his fingers on his thighs tells me his anxiety is rising. “Sure.”
This is a big step for him, showing me parts of himself he’d probably like to keep hidden.
He leads me down the hall to the next room and gestures for me to enter first, then drops his bag inside the door.
The room is much neater than the one in Westchester, and over the bed are framed posters of old movies like Taxi Driver, On the Waterfront, Raging Bull, and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. If I were a betting woman, I’d wager his favorite actors come from their cast lists.
On the wall opposite the door are shelves, filled not only with books, but also trophies and photos. I wander over to get a closer look, mindful that Holt is still hovering in the doorway like an anxious vulture.
There are so many trophies and ribbons, it’s hard to take them all in. I pick one up and read the inscription. All-State Track Champion—Ethan Holt.
I turn to the frowning man in the doorway. “So you were a pretty fast runner, huh?”
He shrugs. “I was okay.”
“Sure. They always give dozens of trophies to people who are just okay.”
I lean over to get a closer look at the photos. One shows Holt leaping over a hurdle, front leg extended, back one bent. His hair is longer than it is now, and there’s a look of fierce determination on his face. Another picture shows him crossing the finish line, head thrown back, arms wide, a victorious smile on his face. He almost looks like a different person; Ethan’s less intense younger brother.
Further down, there’s a group photo of boys in varsity letter jackets with girls wrapped around them. My breath catches when I see he has his arm around a girl. He’s looking at her with obvious affection. Then I realize that she’s not gazing back at him but at the blond boy on her other side.
Oh, God.
Vanessa and Matt?
He reaches around me to turn the picture face down. “Don’t know why I keep that out. I should’ve gotten rid of it years ago. I mean, I was an idiot for not seeing it, right? It was obvious they were screwing while we were together.”
When I turn to him, he looks down and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. I mean, clearly the poor girl was delusional. And maybe blind. Choosing that chump over you? What the hell was she thinking?”
He relaxes a little, but I know the part of him that was damaged by the situation doesn’t believe me.
“Yeah, well … whatever. Matt was a decent guy. At least I thought he was, right up until I found him screwing my girlfriend.”
“Ethan?” I put my hand on his chest, and after a few seconds, he meets my gaze. “I’ve never met Matt, and I’m sure he has his good points, but somewhere there’s a plaque declaring that Vanessa choosing him over you is the Stupidest Girl Fail Ever. Trust me on that.”
He leans down and kisses me, and although it’s slow and intense, our inhales are loud and simultaneous.
Damn this boy and his mouth.
It’s crazy how quickly he has me frustrated, and before I know it, I’m pushing him down onto his bed so I can straddle him.
“So,” I say, as he sucks gently on my throat, “apart from Vanessa, am I the only girl who’s been in this bedroom?”
His voice vibrates against my skin when he answers. “Yes.”
“Good.”
I push him down and kiss him with a fierce sense of possession. He makes a noise that I think indicates he enjoys it, and it gets louder when I roll onto my side and pull his thigh between mine.
Oh, hell yes. I love his thigh. Awesome thigh.
“We should stop.” His breathing is ragged, and he glances nervously at the door.
I kiss down his throat. “Stopping is bad. Except maybe if you lose control on an icy road and are hurtling toward certain death. Then, it’s pretty much essential. But in this case? Definitely bad. Terrible. Worst idea ever.”
I suck on the racing pulse in his neck, and when he speaks, his voice is strained and low. “Taylor, you know my mother could come up here at any second, right? Do you really want her to catch you riding her son’s leg?”
I stop dead in my tracks. That’s when I hear footsteps coming down the hallway.
Oh, God
Within half a second, I’m on my feet and straightening my clothes and hair, while I try not to look like the horny virgin I am.
Ethan chuckles and sits up, then grabs a pillow to cover his erection.
The footsteps get closer before Elissa appears in the doorway. She rolls her eyes as she looks between us. “Oh, please. Don’t even pretend you two weren’t just making out. When I was at the bottom of the stairs, I could hear Ethan’s disgusting groaning. He sounded like a bear with heartburn. Plus, Ruby called and told me all about the spectacle you made of yourselves at Avery’s party. Thank God. I was beginning to think I was going to lose that stupid bet.”
Holt glares at his sister. “You bet on us, too?”
“Pfft. Of course. As far as I was concerned, it was easy money. Especially after Cassie agreed to check on you while you were sick.”
“Elissa!” I say. “You asked me to go over there because you wanted to win a bet?”
She sighs. “No. I asked you to go over there because I was worried about Ethan. And because you were both being stupid about being together.” The next sentence is much quieter. “Me winning a hundred bucks and buying a new purse is just a bonus, so yay for me.”
“Fuck me,” Holt says with a scowl. “Why does everyone in this family think I’m incapable of making my own decisions about my love life?”
“Because you haven’t had a love life in four years, big brother,” Elissa says. “You’re like a little kid who won’t go back in the pool because he swallowed some water once upon a time. Thank God you finally manned up with Cassie. If you hadn’t, I was considering buying you a few dozen cats and being done with it.”
“Elissa, get the fuck out of my room.”
“No. Cassie’s my friend, too. You need to learn to share.”
“I’m not sharing her. Now, get out.”
“Make me.”
“Happily.” He strides over to her, picks her up in a bear-hug, and deposits her outside the door before he slams it in her face.
Her voice is muffled by the wood when she yells, “You’re such a tool!”
Holt snatches the door open and whispers, “Oh, and by the way, I haven’t told Mom and Dad that Cassie and I are together, so if you could keep your giant trap shut, that’d be sweet. Thanks.”
She puts her foot in the door before he can slam it again. “In that case, you’d best be nice, or I’m going to broadcast it to the whole neighborhood.”
He frowns. “I hate being nice.”
“And I hate being discreet. Deal with it, and let me in.”
Ethan pushes the door open and goes to sit on the bed as Elissa walks over to give me a quick hug. “Cassie, I can’t even tell you how glad I am you’re here. At last I’ll have someone to talk to other than butt-munch over there.”
“Bite me,” Holt mutters while absently flicking through a Rolling Stone magazine.
Elissa sighs. “You said you’d be nice.”
He leans back on the bed. “Sorry. Bite me, please.”
She nods. “Better.”
I laugh, because even though they’re being snarky and immature, underneath it all there’s affection, and it makes me realize how much I’ve missed out by not having a brother or sister.
We chat for a while, and discuss plans for the next day and which parts of New York they’d each like to show me. Holt wasn’t joking when he said he didn’t want to share me. Every time Elissa suggests taking me somewhere, he tenses up. Part of me finds his jealousy incredibly hot.
At one point, Elissa catches me staring at him as he unpacks his bag, and she smiles. I feel my face heat up.
When Ethan leaves to take his toiletries to the bathroom, Elissa shakes her head. “Man, you have it so bad for my brother, don’t you?”
My face flames again. “Shut up.”
She laughs. “I’m not making fun of you. I think it’s awesome, but he’s not exactly low maintenance. I was beginning to wonder if he’d find a girl to take on all his baggage.”
“He’s not that bad.”
“That’s because you have a knack for handling him.”
“You think so? Sometimes I have no idea.”
She glances at the door before she whispers, “If you want to understand him more, ask him to show you what’s in the bottom drawer.” She nods in the direction of the tall chest of drawers on the far wall.
“Why? Is he keeping human body parts in there?”
She laughs and stands as Ethan comes back. “In a way. I figure he’s seen yours, so you should get to see his.”
Holt eyes his sister suspiciously. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” She kisses him on the cheek, then disappears down the hallway.
He gives me a dark look. “What did my sister just say to you?”
“She told me I should ask to see what’s in your bottom drawer.” I lean forward and lower my voice. “Is it porn? Because that’s something I’d really enjoy looking at with you.”
Rather than laughing it off as I expect, his face turns red and stormy. “Fucking Elissa.”
“What? What’s in there?” I didn’t really believe it was human body parts, but now I’m not so sure.
“What’s in there is no one’s business but mine,” he says, as he grabs the remaining clothes out of his bag and slams them into drawers.
“Ethan…”
“Just drop it, okay?”
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s private, all right? Just because we’re going out doesn’t mean you get to know everything about me.”
“Uh, actually, I kind of thought that was the point.” I walk over and lay my hands on his chest. “Aren’t we supposed to show each other all our ugly parts and see if we like each other anyway?” He tenses when I push under his shirt to touch his warm skin.
“Taylor…” His eyes get heavy when I explore his muscles.
“I mean, apart from you murdering someone and burying them in your backyard, there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me not like you. You’re aware of that, right?”
He breathes heavily. I move my hands around to his sides, then run my palms over his ribs and up to his shoulder blades. He closes his eyes and drops his head. “What are you doing?”
“Convincing you.” I run my fingernails down his back, and it makes him groan. “Ethan, please tell me what’s in the drawer.”
He exhales, and I can tell he’s wavering.
“If you tell me, I’ll kiss you. A lot.”
“Low blow.”
“I’ll do that, too.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to give me shit.”
“When do I ever—?” I stop myself and sigh. Yeah, can’t even pretend to deny it. “Okay. I promise.”
“And you have to make good on your promise to kiss me. A lot.”
“Definitely. And the low blow?”
The look he gives me makes me shiver. “Don’t tempt me. My mother is downstairs.”
“Okay, fine. It’s a deal.”
He sighs then walks over to the chest of drawers. “Remember, no mocking.”
I draw a cross on my chest.
He pulls his key ring out of his pocket and uses a small brass key to unlock the bottom drawer.
“I don’t fucking believe I’m doing this,” he mutters as he pulls the drawer open.
I step forward and peer inside. It’s full of plain, fabric-covered books.
“Um … okay.”
He’s waiting for a reaction. The only one I can give him is confusion. “I’m sorry, Holt, I don’t understand.”
He sighs. “Remember when I read your diary? I was a total asshole and yelled at you for writing all that shit down where people could find it? Well, this is why. I was scared someone might find these. That you might find these one day, and…”
What he’s saying becomes clear. “Oh my God.”
He bends down and picks up one of the books.
“These are all…?”
“Yeah.”
He flips open the front cover and holds it up for me to see:
The Journal of Ethan Holt. Keep the fuck out.
“You keep diaries!”
He drops the book back into the drawer and shoves it closed with his foot. “Journals, Taylor, not diaries. There’s a difference.”
“Oh, please. How is a journal different from a diary?”
“It just is, okay? Men don’t keep diaries.”
“Well, obviously they do.”
“Goddammit, you said you wouldn’t mock.”
I hold up my hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” We’re silent for a moment, then I ask, “So what do you write in there?”
“The same sort of stuff you write in yours, I suppose.”
“Really? So you’re also a sexually frustrated virgin who’s obsessed with a handsome actor’s penis?”
He sighs and drops his head.
“I’m sorry,” I say, laughing. “But you gave me such a hard time after you read my diary. Aren’t I allowed to have a little fun?”
“A little,” he says grudgingly.
“So, do I feature in your diary?”
His ears pink, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Maybe. Not these, but the one back at my apartment.”
“Are you ever going to let me read something? Quid pro quo, and all that.”
“Not in this lifetime. Or the next, for that matter.” He looks at the floor, and I feel bad for poking fun. Revealing this to me is a huge step for him, and I shouldn’t make light of it.
I walk over and touch his face, then rise on my toes to kiss him lightly. “Thank you. For showing me. It means a lot.”
He looks away. “Yeah. Sure.”
I kiss him again, longer this time, and after a moment’s hesitation, he responds. Strong arms wind around me as he kisses me more passionately, and just as I register his giant hands are cupping my butt, I hear a throat clear behind us.
We both turn to see Maggie in the doorway, trying not to smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but dinner’s ready.”
Without another word, she disappears.
Holt exhales and drops his head to my shoulder. I notice his hands remain on my ass.
“Well, I guess now we don’t have to tell Mom we’re dating.”
“Nope. Guess not.”
When we get downstairs, Elissa and Maggie are already seated. Tribble guards a chair I guess to be Ethan’s. I swear she sneers at me.
“Sit, please,” Maggie says and gestures to the remaining place settings. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving.”
Tribble growls as I sit next to Holt, and he chastises her under his breath.
When his mom passes him a plate of pasta, he clears his throat and says, “Mom, I … uh … I wanted to tell you earlier about Cassie and me, but … well…”
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Maggie says and offers me a bowl of salad. “I already knew.”
Holt shoots an accusing glare at his sister.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” she says and holds up her hands defensively. “I haven’t said a thing.”
“Then how did she know?”
“Sweetheart,” Maggie says, “when you’re a mother, it’s easy to read the emotions of your children. It’s been obvious to me you have feelings for Cassie, and I’m glad you finally acted upon them. I’m very happy for you.”
Holt looks dubious, as she hands him the salad.
“Oh, all right,” she says. “Jack Avery called earlier to say that my bet last week had paid off.”
Holt’s face drops, along with his fork. “What?!”
Maggie wrings her hands in embarrassment. “Well, darling, Elissa told me the odds Jack was offering, and after I saw you two in Romeo and Juliet, I figured it was a sure thing.”
“Mom! Jesus!”
“Darling, don’t be mad. Momma needed a new pair of shoes.”
He rubs his eyes and groans.
My nervous energy manifests as too-shrill laughter, and as I snort indelicately, three surprised faces turn to me. Four, if you count the dog.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I try unsuccessfully to stop. “But that’s kind of awesome.”
Maggie laughs along with me, and Elissa joins in.
Ethan shakes his head. “Why are all the women in my life determined to torture me?”
I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. I’m rewarded with a hint of a smile.
The rest of the meal passes quickly, and I’m blown away by the amazing feast Maggie has whipped up. By the time I’m finished, I can barely move. My poor, distended stomach is in both heaven and hell, and I curse the years of eating my mom’s sad excuse for cuisine, in which the chickpea was held sacred and anything that tasted good, like butter or salt, was treated like a deadly poison to be avoided at all costs.
As she serves dessert, Maggie questions me about myself and my family, and even though I’m usually nervous about being scrutinized so openly, it doesn’t seem like she’s being nosy. She just wants to get to know her son’s girlfriend.
A couple of times I catch her watching when Holt and I talk to each other, and she has that same optimistic look in her eye my mother used to get whenever she tried to convert me to veganism. I’m hoping Holt and I work out better than my short-lived relationship with Tofurkey and rice milk.
As for Holt, I like to watch him interact with his mother and sister. He and Elissa fight incessantly, but it’s good natured, despite his efforts to seem like a badass. And the way he is with his mom? It makes me all kinds of swoony.
They say you can tell a lot about how a man will treat you by the way he treats his mother. If that’s true, I expect to be treated like a queen.