Page 49 of Infatuated as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #2)

Sawyer

I was so late it wasn’t even funny.

I wouldn’t blame Holly if she had just upped and left and went back home.

One hand pushing through my hair, I quickly pulled into the country club’s parking lot, greeted by a frowning valet who was making his way down the stairs.

Every other car I had passed on my way in looked expensive and pristine: Aston Martins and Porsches and Bugattis.

There I was in my truck, but at least it wasn’t my old, beat up one.

I quickly straightened my tie and hopped out of the truck, my suit thankfully no longer covered in dirt. I had five minutes, a gas station bathroom sink, and paper towels. Not perfect, but passable.

“Would you like me to park your car, sir?” the valet asked. “I mean, your truck.”

“Have at it.” I handed the keys to him and quickly moved up the stairs, eager to find Holly.

It felt like I had all eyes on me as I walked through the main entrance, dodging all the loitering guests until I spotted the sign that directed me to the restaurant.

My hands kept patting down my hair, making sure it was neat as possible as I found the host. His dark brows furrowed the second he saw me, and fuck, did I really look that out of place?

“Can I help you?” he asked, hands straightening the lapels of his blazer.

“Uh, yeah, I have a reservation. I’m meeting my girlfriend here. Holly Sutton,” I said. “I’m a little late.”

Humming, he tapped a finger against the heavy book resting against the stand in front of him. “You’re over an hour late.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Your table is no longer available. Miss Sutton arrived, you did not, the table was given to another guest,” he said, voice all curt.

“It’s Christmas Eve. I’m sure you can imagine how busy we are.

We couldn’t hold the table all night. May I serve the other guests?

You can’t come in here dressed like that, anyway. ”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Guilt wouldn’t stop stabbing and cutting at me. “Do you know where she is? Did she leave?”

Exhaling sharply, he blinked at me slowly. “She didn’t leave. She might be at the—”

“Thanks.” Patting him on the shoulder, I quickly made my way inside.

The space was quiet and warm, the voices of all the guests nothing but a soft murmur as gentle music played in the background.

I moved past all the cream-colored chairs and brown tables, eyes darting left and right as I searched for the familiar face I had been aching to see.

I had been missing out on so many things.

Waking up to her, falling asleep together, just sitting next to her as she cuddled up to me on the couch.

Moments, even the small ones, when it was just her and me. Like she wanted to do tonight .

I kept on looking, but I couldn’t find those doe eyes I had fallen in love with. Maybe she was in the bathroom or something. Fuck, maybe she was in there crying over me being some huge fuck up boyfriend who never paid any attention to her.

I inhaled sharply when I saw long dark hair spilling over someone’s back.

I couldn’t see her face, but I knew it was her.

At the bar. I frowned, making my way to the back part of the restaurant, to the marble countertop and the high, light-toned chairs.

With one hand outreached, I let it land on Holly’s shoulder, watching as she turned to face me.

Chin in her hand and eyes looking tired, she gave me a lazy smile.

But it was the distinct purple mark on her cheek that made my heart stop.

“What the fuck happened?” I snapped. “Did someone fucking hit you?” The sound of gasps hit my ears as my voice raised, but I wasn’t all that concerned about how scandalous my language sounded .

“You remembered me,” Holly said softly. “It’s so nice of you to remember me.”

“What happened?”

She rolled her eyes. “I slipped and it was very embarrassing and I don’t wanna talk about it.”

I gently grasped her chin, turning her face to me. The bruise looked dark and painful against her golden skin as I carefully ran a thumb at the spot just underneath it. “Are you sure?”

“I slipped, okay? Ask Gemma.” Holly reached a hand out to one of the bartenders.

The woman nodded. “She’s telling the truth.”

I looked back at Holly, still holding her chin. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ve had worse falls from cheer.”

“And you’re alright? Fuck, look at that bruise. You’re gonna have it for a week,” I muttered, kissing the spot as softly as I could. “You gotta be more careful, baby.”

“Whatever. I don’t even care. Where were you?”

I let a thumb stroke at her chin softly. “It’s a long, long story. I’ll explain it to you later. I know I made a promise to you that I’d be here and I broke it. I swear it won’t happen again.”

“That is sooo sweet of you,” she said, lifting up a glass to her lips. “So sweet. You make me go to a place that I don’t even want to go to, and then you don’t even show up on time! So nice of you.”

“I get it if you’re mad. Something happened… Again, long story.”

She reached over to me, giving my tie a soft tug. “What happened to your suit?”

I just sighed at the question.

“Long story, right?” She filled in the blanks before I could speak up and turned to the bartender. “Can… Can I get another one please?”

Frowning, my fingers grasped her chin again, turning her to me so I could see her properly. At the glassy look in her eyes and her slumped over form. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” she bit out. “Are you? ”

“Oh, Christ, you are drunk,” I said. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the bartender sliding another filled glass to her.

“I’m not drunk,” Holly said, picking up the glass. “I’m not even drinking alcohol.”

“Is that right?” I yanked the glass out of her hand, taking the smallest of sips and rolling my eyes as the smooth sweet liquid hit my tongue. “Tequila? Really? You’ve never had a drop of alcohol in your life and this is what you do?”

“It’s not tequila,” she said. “It’s Sprite.”

“I don’t know what kinda Sprite you’ve been buying, but it’s time to leave. You’ve had enough.”

“I don’t even know why you care,” Holly said, words a little slurred, “because lately, you seem to forget that I exist.”

“Okay, look, we’ll talk about this when we get back to your place,” I said, my hands landing on hers. “Let’s go.”

“No.”

“Princess, it’s time to leave. I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to feel that way, but right now, it’s time to go. The truck’s outside. Come on.”

She blinked at me. “Truck?”

“The one you got me.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Were you expecting a limo?” I joked, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

“Limo’s are tacky. No one uses limos anymore.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m tacky?”

“No.” I snorted. “Time to go home.” Hands on her waist, I guided her off the stool slowly, letting her slump against my chest in her heels. I kept her steady as we moved away from the bar, fully aware of how suspicious I looked with a drunk, out of her mind Holly in my arms.

“Where are we going?” Holly asked.

“I just told you, baby. We’re going home.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. ”

“It’s so early, though.”

I avoided the suspicious stares of the crowd, already knowing what they were thinking.

I wasn’t the kind of guy who was supposed to be at some exclusive, fancy country club, and a girl like Holly certainly wasn’t supposed to be so close to me.

It was the longest walk in the world to the front, but I finally got us back to the main entrance, hearing the distinct sound of whispers as I walked us past the reception.

“Do you need help?” the valet asked when I finally got me and Holly outside into the night air.

I shook my head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

“Is Miss Sutton okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Holly answered softly, eyes half closed.

“Can you grab my truck?” I asked. “We’re ready to leave.”

“Do you know Miss Sutton?” the guy asked.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“… You?”

My eyes rolled. “Yes, me. I know it’s hard to believe, but yes, I’m her boyfriend. Can you go and get the truck please?”

The guy ran off and I eyed the long flight of stairs that’d take us right to the parking lot. It was easier to just pick Holly up, so I scooped her up in my arms, her eyes opening just barely.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much, especially when you’re on your own, and especially when you’ve never touched alcohol before,” I said as we moved down the stairs. “Might wanna stick to water.”

“Water’s boring,” she mumbled.

It was awkward, but the valet managed to shove the key into one of my hands before he rushed back to the building. “Guy couldn’t even open the fuckin’ door for me, huh?” I muttered to myself, moving over to the passenger door of the truck.

“What guy?” Holly asked.

“No one, honey. I’m gonna need you to work with me here,” I said, one hand steady on Holly’s waist as the other opened up the truck door. Holding her tight, I guided her backwards, her head falling back with a groan as I got her in the passenger seat.

“Do you like the truck?” she asked softly.

“I do. I love it a lot.” I grabbed the belt, buckling her in. “Thank you for getting it.”

“I’m really glad you didn’t get rid of it,” she said, eyes half-lidded. “You deserve to have nice things. Lots and lots of nice things…”

“That’s sweet of you, angel.”

“I bought something else a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I know. Drinks. I can tell.”

“Nuh-uh. Not drinks.” She poked my chest. “I bought the apartment.”

I halted, deep frown on my face as I stared at her. “What do you mean you bought the apartment?”

“I talked to the landlord. Before… Before you got here,” she said, eyes looking like they were getting glassier by the second.

“He said, ‘You really wanna buy this dump?’, which I thought was rude and uncalled for, but then I said yes, and then he emailed me the contract and he said I could sign for it over my phone, and voila! Now it’s ours and now you can quit your job. Hurray, right?”