Page 12 of The Hang Up (Lilac Harbor #3)

TWELVE

Holden

I get to the diner twenty minutes early.

I can’t help it. Ever since Lena agreed to meet for lunch, I’ve been restless.

I barely slept last night. I spent the whole morning cleaning my place like I was expecting royalty, even though there’s a good chance she’ll eat her burger, make polite conversation, and bolt.

Still, I had to be ready.

I park outside Sandbags Burgers and sit in my truck for a minute, gripping the wheel and trying to calm my racing heart. This feels like a date, but it’s not. Not really. It’s lunch. That’s it.

Except it’s not just lunch. Not to me.

This is the first time we’ll be alone since everything came out since the kiss. Since I told her the truth about her mom. Since she told me how much I hurt her.

This is the first time she’s willingly agreed to see me again.

I spot Lena before she sees me. She’s walking down the street, her coat wrapped tightly around her, curls spilling over her shoulders. She looks soft and beautiful and tired. My chest tightens just looking at her.

I hop out of the truck and meet her on the sidewalk.

“Hey,” I say, voice low, trying not to scare her off.

“Hey,” she replies, hugging her arms around herself like she’s bracing for a storm. “You’re early.”

I shrug. “Didn’t want to be late.”

She nods, glancing toward the diner, and then back at me. Her eyes flick to the windows, where three people are watching us like hawks—small town nosiness at its finest.

I clear my throat. “Want to eat here, or…?”

Her eyes are wary but curious as she looks at me.

“I thought we could grab something to go,” I offer. “Come back to my place. It’s quiet there. No one staring.”

I hold my breath as she hesitates.

Then she nods. “Okay.”

Okay.

It’s one word, but it feels like winning the lottery. I push open the diner door for her, and we head inside. We order quickly—cheeseburgers, fries, two milkshakes—and we don’t talk much while we wait.

When the food’s ready, I take the bag and drinks, and we head back outside. I open the truck door for her, and she climbs in without a word. I jog around to the driver’s side, my palms sweaty against the leather steering wheel.

The drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Lena stares out the window, her fingers resting lightly on the paper bag in her lap.

I want to say something. I want to ask her how she’s doing. I want to reach over and take her hand, but I don’t. I just drive.

My grandfather’s house is nestled in the pines with the lake beyond the backyard. It’s peaceful here. Safe. The place I always dreamed about bringing Lena to.

I pull into the gravel driveway and park near the porch.

“This is it,” I say quietly.

She glances up at the house. “I remember this place.”

“Yeah?” I ask with a smile. “My grandpa left it to me when he passed.”

She nods as she scans the property, lingering on the big barn-style workshop out back.

“Come on. We can eat on the porch or inside. Your call.”

“Inside,” she says quickly. “It’s colder than I thought.”

I lead the way, stepping aside to let her enter first. She slows in the doorway, taking in the space.

It’s nothing fancy; open living room, worn leather couch, a few framed photos on the wall. The place smells like pine, coffee, and the lemon cleaner I used this morning.

I set the food on the coffee table and gesture toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She shrugs off her coat, draping it over the back of the couch before she sinks onto the cushions. I sit beside her, close enough to feel her warmth, but not touching.

We unwrap the burgers and dig in. For a few minutes, only the crinkle of paper and the sound of fries being dipped in ketchup break the silence.

“This is good,” I say around a bite.

She grins. “Told you Sandbags Burgers has the best burgers in town.”

“You were right. Always are.”

We fall into an easy rhythm. It reminds me of before everything went to hell. We did this all the time, at burgers and drank milkshakes as we sat cross-legged on my grandpa’s couch while some old movie played in the background.

I don’t turn on the TV this time. I just watch her.

When she sets down her milkshake and leans back, I see her shoulders sag.

“Rough night?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer right away.

Then she says, “I confronted my mom.”

I sit up straighter. “Yeah?”

She nods, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. “I asked her about what you said. What she told you before you left.”

My chest tightens. “And?”

“She admitted it,” Lena says, her voice small. “She didn’t even apologize. Just said she was doing what was best for me. Like she gets to decide.”

I reach for her hand before I can stop myself. “Lena…”

She lets me hold it, and that small touch is everything.

“I’ve spent so long trying to be the perfect daughter,” she whispers.

“Putting her first. Taking care of everything. And for what? So she could tear apart the one thing that made me happy? There’s no way she didn’t know how I felt about you.

I mean, everyone knew I was in love with you.

She ruined that and never felt an ounce of remorse. ”

I squeeze her hand gently. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” she agrees. “I didn’t.”

Her eyes meet mine, raw and open. “You should’ve told me, Holden. Back then. You should’ve talked to me.”

“I know.” My voice is thick with regret. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought if I left, it would make your life easier. That you’d be free to do all the things you wanted. I didn’t realize I was making everything worse.”

She swallows hard, her throat bobbing. “You hurt me.”

“I did,” I whisper. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

A tear slips down her cheek, and I reach up to wipe it away. My thumb brushes her soft skin, and she leans into the touch like she used to.

“I missed you,” she says, voice trembling.

“I never stopped missing you,” I breathe.

And then she kisses me.

It starts soft. Tentative. Her lips press against mine, and I freeze, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. Afraid that if I do, she’ll pull away from me.

Her hand tangles in my shirt, pulling me toward her, and I can’t hold back any longer.

I kiss her back.

Harder.

Deeper.

It’s like a dam breaking. Years of longing, regret, and love pour into this kiss.

I pull her onto my lap, our mouths still fused, and she wraps her arms around my neck like she’s afraid I’ll vanish again. I kiss her like a man starved, because I am. Starved for her. For this. For the way she tastes, the way she feels, the way she makes me believe I might still deserve happiness.

She gasps as I trail kisses down her neck. Her fingers clutch at my shoulders, tugging me closer.

“Lena,” I pant, wanting to pump the brakes and tell her that we can go slow. I don’t want that. I want Lena. It feels like we’re picking up where we left off. Still, I should tell her that we can go at her pace and?—

“Bedroom,” she whispers.

I don’t hesitate. I stand with her in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist, and carry her down the hall.

It’s clumsy. We bump into a doorframe. She laughs, breathless and wild, and I can’t stop grinning. My dream girl is finally back in my arms, and soon to be back in my bed.

When I lay her on the bed, she pulls me down with her. And for the first time in years, everything feels right.

I want to take my time, but I can’t, and it seems she can’t either. Her hands tear at my clothes, and I sit up, pulling off my shirt and tossing it aside.

She moans, running her hands down my chest, and I swear I almost come in my pants at the sensation of her hands on my bare skin.

“So hot,” she pants.

I swallow hard. “Your turn.”

She climbs to her knees and yanks off her shirt. As she drops it to the floor, I see her nerves kick in.

“Fuck, you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I tell her honestly.

“Still curvy,” she says, her tone light but self-deprecating.

“Still beautiful.”

“Have you been with someone else… since we broke up?” she blurts.

I blink. “Fuck, no. Why would I do that?”

“I-I mean…”

“It’s only been you, Lena. I was dumb for letting you go, but not dumb enough to sleep with someone else. Not when you were always in my head and my heart.”

She stares at me unblinking for a moment, then licks her lips and nods. “I didn’t… It was only ever you, too,” she admits softly.

My heart swells. “Good.”

Then I’m on her.

I tackle her to the mattress and claim her lips with mine. Wrapping my arms around her, I find the clasp of her bra and unfasten it, dragging the straps down her arms and flinging it off the bed.

My hands mold her tits, and we both groan as my fingers find her stiff nipples and tease the sensitive peaks.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” she begs as I kiss my way down her neck.

“I need to taste you,” I say against her skin.

She lets out an impatient whine as I trail kisses over her chest, licking a path between the valley of her breasts as I scoot down her body. She wriggles underneath me as I grab her pants and underwear and tear them down her legs. She kicks them off, leaving her bare beneath me.

“You’re every fantasy I’ve ever had,” I say hoarsely.

“Holden—”

I bury my face between her legs and eat her like she’s my last meal.

“Fuck!”

Her screams are music to my ears. Every breathy sigh, every moan, every gasp turns me on.

My jeans feel way too tight. I swear my cock is imprinted with the zipper.

I roll my tongue over her clit and lick a path to her opening. Lena’s hips rock against my face, her thighs quivering on either side of my head as I continue to lick her to her first orgasm.

“Holden,” she pants, her voice high and filled with need.

I growl as I push a finger into her snug hole and suck her clit into my mouth.

Lena screams as she comes all over my face. “HOLDEN! Oh, God!”

I keep licking and fingering her until she finally collapses against the mattress, her tits jiggling with each rapid breath. I groan as I pull my finger out and lick it clean.

“Hmmph,” she huffs.

I grin as I climb back up her body.

Her hands slide down my chest, and she frowns when she gets to my jeans. “Off. Now,” she orders.

I hop off the bed and hurry to comply, stripping in record time. Climbing back onto the bed, I settle my hips between her thighs.

Lena licks her lips as her eyes lock onto my cock, and a drop of precum forms on the tip. I swear she could make me come with just a look.

Her fingers wrap around my length, and I moan as she gives me a few testing pumps.

“Enough of that,” I say through gritted teeth.

She pouts.

I huff out an amused breath. “Unless you want me to come all over you.”

She gives me a devilish smirk. “I wouldn’t mind,” she says, her voice low and husky.

“Fucking hell, Lena,” I growl.

I pull out of her grasp and settle on top of her, kissing her with all of the love I feel as I start to push inside her. We rock together slowly, learning the feel and rhythm of each other again as I sink fully into her hot depths.

Being balls deep inside Lena after all these years is like coming home. Something inside me clicks into place. For the first time in four years, I’m complete.

“So good,” she wheezes.

I nod, kissing her as I pull out and slam back into her. “Need you.”

Her hips rise to meet mine eagerly, and we’re soon rocking together in perfect sync.

I balance on my hands, my hips jerking forward roughly as I pound into her.

She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, clinging to me as I lose myself in her.

I look at her face, knowing she’s lost in me, too.

“Lena,” I choke out as my orgasm builds inside me.

“Holden!”

Her pussy clamps down around my dick, her walls milking my cock. Her legs shake as she clings to me, and I know she’s close.

“Let go,” I command.

She cries out as she falls over the edge. Her release triggers mine, and I groan her name as I come.

“Goddamn, Lena,” I pant as I pull out of her slowly and collapse on the bed beside her.

“Hmm,” she hums, her eyes closed, her lips tilted up in a smile as she catches her breath.

I grab her and pull her against me, moving her until we’re positioned skin to skin. We lie tangled in the sheets, her head on my chest, my hand tracing lazy circles on her back. The room is quiet except for our breathing and the distant sound of birds outside the window.

“Was that a mistake?” she whispers.

I shake my head. “No. Not even close.”

She’s quiet for a long time, and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep.

Then she says, “I think I want to move out.”

My chest stills. “Of your mom’s place?”

She nods against me. “I need space. I need to breathe. I’ve been living for her for so long, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to live for me.”

I kiss the top of her head. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

She lifts her head to look at me. “I’m not saying I’m ready to move in with you. That would be… a lot.”

I grin. “I get it. Baby steps.”

She smiles back, and it’s real this time. Full and soft and beautiful.

“I should head back soon,” she says reluctantly, sitting up and reaching for her clothes.

“Not yet,” I murmur, catching her wrist. “Stay a little longer.”

Her lips twitch. “You planning to feed me again?”

“Actually, yeah. I was going to order pizza.”

She raises a brow. “You trying to bribe me with carbs?”

“Is it working?”

She laughs, and the sound hits me square in the chest. “Maybe.”

I grab my phone and order a large pepperoni and mushroom. Tossing it aside, I lean against the pillows, watching as Lena slips back into her clothes. She moves around my room like she belongs here, and God, I want her to.

Pulling her hair into a messy bun, she turns to face me, hands on her hips. “So… what now?”

I sit up, tugging on my jeans. “Now? We eat pizza. And tomorrow, we grab breakfast. Then we go for a walk. One day at a time.”

She studies me. “You’re serious about this. About me.”

I meet her gaze. “Lena, I’ve been serious about you since I was sixteen. I just needed to grow up enough to prove it.”

She walks over to the bed and sits beside me, her expression soft. “You’re doing a good job.”

The doorbell rings, and I jump to my feet. “I’ll grab the pizza.”

She chuckles as I head to the front door, her laughter trailing after me.

When I open the door, the delivery guy eyes me, smirking. “Rough hair. Good night?”

I laugh and hand him a tip. “Something like that.”

When I bring the box back into the bedroom, Lena is already settled against the headboard, her legs crossed and her eyes bright.

I hand her a slice, and we eat in bed, greasy fingers and bare feet and soft music playing from the speaker on the dresser. For the first time since I returned to Lilac Harbor, I don’t feel like I’m chasing something I lost.

I feel like I’ve found something I never stopped loving.

And this time, I’m not letting go.