Page 15 of The Road Back Home

“This is Henry.”

“He’s adorable,” I eke out, though my throat has grown tight. My chest aches, hollow and cold, and my arms feel dreadfully empty.

“You okay?” Holden whispers.

All I can do is nod. He understands, of course he does.

He tells me I can go make the phone call, no one would be upset if I take five minutes.

They would all understand, no judgment. I’m touched by his consideration, but I stay where I am.

Katie would be pissed if I call right now, and the ensuing freak-out would damper my chances of any contact with Ashton while I’m gone.

Maybe even after I got back. So I stare out over the backyard as the voices around me blend and blur with conversation I can’t find it in me to join.

A small hand lands on my arm, and I jerk at the touch.

Henry stands beside me, his fingers clutching a strawberry.

He holds it up to me with a sweet smile, and I take it with a ‘thank you very much’.

He beams and watches me closely until I bite off a chunk of the berry, then he runs away to the fruit platter on the other side of the table.

Holden is staring at me with his head cocked, something indecipherable in his eyes, when I catch his gaze.

To my surprise, he leans forward to kiss my lips in front of all his friends.

The hours spent with the group go by fast. One minute, I’m chatting with Eddie and Samantha about our favorite meals, with the occasional interruption as Henry brings more fruit.

The next, the sun has slipped below the horizon, and everyone prepares to leave.

Eddie doesn’t give me a choice: He embraces me tightly, quickly, before releasing me.

John and Evelyn merely wave before heading inside.

A worn-out Henry leaves a kiss on my cheek, and Phil and Samantha bid us a quick goodnight as they head to the door.

Cheryl keeps her gaze averted from me, says goodbye to Holden, and joins the couple in exiting the house.

I help carry in the few dishes, and Holden and I wash them together.

As soon as I’ve set the last plate in the drying rack, he steps closer and cages my body between his and the counter.

My lips burn with the heat of the kiss, my head swimming.

I moan low in my throat as his hands skim my body, my body that arches into his touch as if it’s craved him like an addiction. Oh, God, what an addiction it would be.

In tandem, we rush from the kitchen and through the living room, up the stairs, into his bedroom.

Holden’s hands are feverish, relentless, as he helps me strip, and I do the same for him.

He stands nude before me only seconds later, and I groan at the sight.

My hands curve over his shoulders, and he goes where I push, sitting on the bed with a heavy exhale.

His breathing grows unsteady as I straddle his lap, chest-to-chest and hearts beating together.

My teeth catch on his bottom lip; I nip gently, and he gasps and tugs me closer.

One calloused hand slips between us, and I bite back a gasping moan as his thumb presses against me.

No words are spoken in the heady silence of the room, the quiet broken only by our shake breaths and soft sounds as we move together.

His hands leave flaming paths on my flesh, but it’s nothing compared to the inferno burning me clean from the inside out.

I swallow down Holden’s moan, the kiss hard and insistent and bruising.

A sharp pain blossoms to life in my waist where his nails dig into my skin; he helps me to rise and fall, to ride the devastatingly breathtaking wave crashing through me.

I let out an airy cry of his name. He shushes me—reminds me that John and Evelyn are just down the hall—but I can’t focus on anything but how I tremble.

How Holden holds me, so strong and beautiful and right .

He buries his face against my throat and lets my skin absorb his groan.

My body is heavy, sated in ways I will cherish for as long as I live.

I run my fingers through Holden’s damp hair, shivering when his lips brush along my collarbone, then he falls back to lie on the bed.

His hand runs along my side, and the smile on his face gives me the same butterflies I’ve felt since the beginning.

“Fuck, but I missed you,” I murmur before leaning down to kiss him.

“I missed you, too.”

I force myself to move, to flop to the side so I’m no longer on his lap.

We lie side-by-side for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe.

Peace settles in my soul. This... This is what I’ve wanted for so long.

I thought I had it all with school, family, taking care of Ashton.

But Holden has shown he is a missing piece of a puzzle I never knew I was putting together.

Holden stands and holds out at his hands. I frown at him but let him haul me up until I’m standing. His lips brush against mine, and I know, I know , I’d follow him anywhere.

‘Anywhere’, in this case, turns out to be the bathroom.

I stand awkwardly, arms crossed over my chest and legs pressed tightly together, while he slides the shower door to the side and reaches in to twist the tap.

The water jets down from the showerhead; he adjusts the lever until it’s more reminiscent of a rainfall, then we wait.

Steam eventually curls into the air, collects on the glass, and we step into the shower stall—much larger than any I’ve ever been in before.

I stop under the spray, close my eyes, and let the hot water stream down my face.

When I push my hair from my face and open my eyes, it’s to see Holden sitting on the bench at the far end of the shower, smiling that soft smile of his.

He beckons me toward him and rises to his feet to press our foreheads together.

The words float on my tongue. It would be so easy to say it, to tell him he’s easy to fall in love with, but I swallow them down.

We’re already going fast enough; no need to complicate it further.

Holden scrubs my back clean, and even though he peppers my exposed skin with kisses, he doesn’t push for more.

I appreciate it, more than I could ever put into words.

It’s intimate enough, this fragment of domesticity.

We rinse soap from our skin, shampoo from our hair, and I inhale the scent of bergamot and cedarwood.

I know I can never go back to my usual rose-mint.

It will never bring me this same level of peace.

After dressing and brushing our teeth, Holden leads me out of the bathroom and to the bed.

I pause, hesitate, then climb onto the mattress.

This is new. This is unfamiliar. We’ve always been in my bed, my apartment, my car.

He’s been in my territory. The difference and distance from home sends a frisson of unease up my spine, and I blow out a breath when he wiggles his fingers in my direction.

I swallow against the sharp lump in my throat and curl into his side.

“I’m so glad you came,” he murmurs after he’s tugged the comforter over my shoulders. “I was… I was afraid you’d say no.”

I huff out a laugh and place my hand on his chest. Feel his heartbeat beneath my palm. “I almost did. But I figured if you could be selfish enough to ask, I could be selfish enough to accept.”

“Selfish is good sometimes.”

“I think I’ll be selfish more often.”

A wide yawn stretches my jaw uncomfortably tight, and I exhale heavily as the rest of my energy seeps from me. Holden speaks, so quiet, so sweet, but I hear none of it. I only drift off to my dreams.