Page 48 of Our Little Cliche

Chapter Forty-Seven

CYRUS

It’s almost midnight and my only thought process is to somehow manage to break Holly away from Renee to somewhere I can smother her face with my New Year’s kiss.

Would it be too cliché of me to want to do it under a Holly plant, too?

I make a mental note, remembering that I saw a few bunches in a hamper on the giveaway table when we walked in… I’ll pinch one from there.

I sigh, because as much as I want to have my tongue down her throat, and her dainty little hands holding mine, she seems far too entwined with building a friendship with Renee, of which I have no business inferring with. She looks so incredibly happy—a different happy to the one I’ve seen.

I may not be able to separate her for our first kiss of 2025, but a dance I would settle for. Everyone else here in the company is, or has at least already danced, so I suppose it wouldn’t look so inappropriate if Holly and I did?

Once I pluck up the courage I stand, buttoning up my jacket. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I say to Quinn and Bentley, but look at neither of them for my eyes are fixated on my woman, whose head is currently tipped back in laughter. Is she… happy drunk? “I’m going to ask those lonely ladies for a dance.”

“Ah, excellent. I’ll join you.” Bentley jolts up and my eyes practically roll so far back into my head that they return to the same position.

Can’t I just have a moment?

I study the conversation between the two girls, observing where I can respectfully interrupt. “Pardon me, ladies, but may I have this dance?” My hand is splayed open for Holly to take it, but Bentley slaps my shoulder, then hooks Holly’s arm into his before I can even blink.

“Care to take this old trooper for a spin, madam?”

“Oh, please, sir.” Holly curtsies with the cheesiest of grins.

Trying my best to choke down the vexed tone in my voice from not getting her first, I’m sure it’s obvious when I say, “How about you, Ren?” I flare quickly to Holly’s frosty blue eyes, giving her an I’ll have my way with you soon enough look, then back to Renee.

“Fine, but fair warning, I’m a terrible dancer.”

It’s hard to not let my eyes drift to my woman even while skating around the hardwood floor with a feisty redhead as tall as me. I can’t help it. There’s just something lacking in me that has the ability to fight the pull.

After a hot minute of watching Holly spin circles around the old fart, I finally turn my attention back to Renee, who I can swear is in a different world than the here and now.

I mean, I don’t know her from a bar of soap, other than meeting her at signings or work events, but I know when someone isn’t doing okay.

Despite her laughing only moments ago she seems so absent minded.

“What’s on your mind, Ren?”

Her expression changes instantly, as if shamed by a thought. Guilt, perhaps? “N-nothing,” she stutters, and I roll my eyes. What’s with women and their “nothings”?

“I may not know you all that well, but I know a frazzled brain when I see one. What’s up?” She looks over her shoulder at Holly, and my stomach sinks. Oh, no.

“Holly said something to me tonight that…” Shit. A ball in my throat forms. “Well, truth be told, the whole thing has changed my brain chemistry. I don’t know what to thin?—”

Oh, fuck. Holly has told her. “Ow!” she shouts momentarily after hearing a crunching sound. I collect her jellied body into my arms as I’ve somehow managed to step on her foot while in a panic.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Renee.”

“It’s fine,” she whimpers. “I might just… sit this one out.”

“Wait,” I grab her wrist as she tries turning and lower my voice, stuttering. I’m so fucked. “I know what you’re going to say. Please don’t tell Quinn, he wouldn’t approve of it.”

She frowns, curling her lip slightly like I’ve offended her. “Excuse me?”

“Think of the career at stake,” I plead.

“Ugh.” She snatches her arm back hastily.

“Holly was right. Screw the career if it means I can’t speak the truth.

Holly made me see that clear as day, so it’s my place to tell him if I want to.

” Renee turns on the heels of her pin-headed stilettos, and all I can do is watch her storm off, crossing her arms with a huff as she sits back at her spot.

Completely stoic, I consider that my soul has left my body.

I’ve been in denial this whole time, telling myself it’s not going to happen, I’m not going to lose my career so soon.

But this is it. This is the end. Why would Renee tell Quinn about us, though?

It makes no sense. And why would she be so mad about me asking her not to tell Quinn?

“Mind if I?—”

Holly’s sweet like caramel voice instantly buffs the sharp edges of my panic, but it lasts only a millisecond. “Wow, what happened to you?” she questions.

“It’s over, Holly.” My voice shatters, certain that Renee is moments from dobbing. She’s even squinting at me, and giving me the stink eye.

“What?”

“She’s the devil, Holly. She’s going to tell him everything.”

“What do you mean? Tell who? Who’s the devil?” Holly frowns as if she’s too many glasses of champagne down for this conversation. Not at all worried that our careers are dangling by a thread. “Who’s going to tell what now?”

What do you mean what do I mean? You told her about us, am I the only one making any sense here? Does anyone know what’s happening anymore or have we all had too much to drink?

“Fuck. I need some air.”

“Wait!”

“I can’t, Holly.”