Page 12 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

I am so grateful for my own room again when we roll into Myrtle Beach that I pretty much determine I don’t want to leave it until we have to report for the show in three days.

I stretch out on the bed, closing my eyes, breathing in the stale hotel air like it’s a fresh mountain breeze.

I’m hungry, but I can’t even imagine leaving this sanctuary in search of food.

Three days of privacy. Three days of silence.

Three days of protection from the endless looks of pity or disdain.

Three days of no inquiries, or probing, or questions about my mental state disguised as questions about water bottles and snack food.

I’m so giddy, I almost text Callie to let her know I finally remember what happiness feels like.

Almost. I’m pretty sure I know what’s happening in Casey’s room right now.

The thought makes me smile, then frown as Holland’s face ruins the moment.

Annoyed, I try to shut it out, but the effort only makes it worse.

Now it’s her hair, her eyes, her smile, the pen in her mouth as she writes in her notebook.

Her lips. Her strong, but delicate fingers as they slide over the smooth wood of my guitar.

My body starts to react. Oh god, not again.

I curse into the darkness of my room, pounding the mattress in frustration, but it doesn’t help.

She’s still there, burning in my head, reminding me of how long it’s been since I let another person invade my soul.

Touch me. Since I’ve touched. My body is screaming now, my breath coming harder as I clench my eyes shut, trying to make it stop. It’s been so long. Too long.

I bolt up from the bed, guilty, furious, the self-hatred knocking hard against the wall of my conscience.

I don’t even know why or what I’ve done, I just know I’m sinning against something, someone.

I strip off my shirt, my jeans, everything, and move into the bathroom, turning on the water to the shower with a rough hand.

I’m terrified as I step under the healthy stream, having no way of knowing if the warm flood will save me or push me over the edge.

There’s no way to be sure, but after a few seconds I realize she’s still here.

She’s followed me from the bed. I lean against the wall, hot tears burning behind my eyes, my brain desperately fighting against the cries of my body. I can’t do this, can I? I can’t. I…

I try to shut her out, but the harder I try, the worse it gets.

Cross-stich. Cross-stich. Cross-stich. No, there’s her laugh.

Her brilliance. The captivating magic of her immersion in the music.

My hand is disobeying my brain now, desperate as it soothes and stirs, crushing my will, knocking me into total submission to the painful ecstasy.

You’re an enigma, Luke. You’re a dark, beautiful painting locked high on the wall behind a protective shield of glass.

Is there a woman on this planet who could resist you if you wanted her?

You’re an insanely talented, walking, talking Greek god bad boy. You even have the sexy accent, tortured soul thing going on.

Don’t even pretend you’re not used to it.

I gasp, overcome with guilt, with pleasure.

My body collapses against the wall, thanking me and punishing me at the same time.

I don’t move, absorbing the chill from the tile as it bleeds into my back and calms the raging fire that just wrecked me.

I can feel the anger, the guilt, the longing, start to meld together in a twisted knot as my brain begins to catch up with my young, virile body.

I finally push away from the wall, the tears mixing with the water as I let go and turn my face into the stream.

I hold my breath, not that there was any air left in my lungs.

Oh god, what have I done?

I sit on the edge of my bed for a long time, haunted by what just happened.

Punishing myself, forgiving myself. I don’t know.

I’m not sure I’ve done anything wrong, but it doesn’t feel right either.

I rest my head in my hands, staring at the floor.

I have no idea how to be a good person, what that even means.

All I know is I’m trying, but maybe it’s not enough.

I also know that I’m actually relieved when my phone lights up with a text from Casey and Callie letting me know they’re heading to the beach. Funny how an hour ago I couldn’t imagine leaving this room and now I’m desperate for any reason to escape it.

The beach sounds great and I respond that I’ll meet them in the lobby in a few minutes.

I pull on some shorts and a t-shirt, casting a quick glance at myself in the mirror.

It’s always fast. There’s almost never anything there I want to see.

I notice my eyes look tired, but that’s to be expected with our brutal schedule over the last few days. No one will suspect anything different.

I take the elevator down to the lobby and almost force the doors back closed. I’d left my room to escape her and there she is, perfect flesh giving life to the dangerous hallucination in my head. They spot me, however, eliminating any chance of a retreat, and I plaster my best smile on my face.

“Hey, guys,” I say, approaching the small group, careful to keep my eyes fixed on Casey and Callie. I can’t look at Holland after what I’d just done with her in the shower. She’d been engaged in a separate conversation with Wes and her drummer, Spence, when I appeared, and suddenly falls silent.

“No Eli and Sweeny?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from the effect of her intense gaze. I can feel her studying me, searching me, and it’s messing with my brain chemistry in a bad way.

“They’re coming,” Casey answers. “Late as usual.”

I snicker, not at all surprised. As if on cue, the elevator doors open, and the boisterous duo explodes into the lobby.

“Let’s do this!” Sweeny calls, drawing stares from everyone else in the large space.

Callie laughs and takes Casey’s hand, dragging him toward the door. “Yes! Let’s go!” she cries, giving us no choice but to follow.

The beach is not as crowded as I would have thought.

There are plenty of other visitors enjoying the sand and walking along the surf, but it’s definitely not the raucous party atmosphere I’m used to.

This crowd is mostly families with young children or retired natives strolling along for their daily walk.

Callie is clearly through the roof with excitement, and I can’t help but grin as she skips across the bridge over the dunes.

Casey just shakes his head in amusement and struggles to keep up.

“Come on!” she cries turning back and waving us on.

“Has she never seen the beach before?”

I stiffen at the voice, my smile faltering. I force another surge of energy into it.

“Callie lives everything in the moment,” I explain to Holland.

I suck in my breath, and allow myself to look at her but immediately wish I hadn’t.

She’s stunning with her loose, cut-out tank draped over a bikini top and tiny shorts.

Her aviator sunglasses hide her eyes from me, but I know they’re focused on me as well.

I can almost feel the tension in her too.

It makes no sense, given how much energy she pours into convincing me she has no interest in me.

“It’s pretty hot,” she muses, still staring at me, and I can’t stop my grin.

“What, the temperature or the view?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Wow. You are so full of yourself.”

I give a playful shrug, and she shoves me as we move down the steps together.

“You know what I meant. Yes, the temperature.”

“So that’s where we are now? Talking about the weather? I let you play my Gibson.”

“Exactly. Which is why we’ve graduated from the stock market to weather.”

I laugh, and cherish her return grin. “Oh, I see. So what does a guy have to do to get to sports scores?”

“I’m not sure you could handle that,” she responds with a sly look.

“Oh, really?” I ask, warming to the challenge.

“October is the best month for sports.”

And the magic vanishes as Wes steps in.

Spence is up front with Jesse, Eli and Sweeny, Casey and Callie are hand-in-hand several paces behind, which leaves our awkward threesome bringing up the rear.

“Oh, hey, Wes,” Holland greets, and I have to admit I like the slight hint of disappointment in her tone. I don’t know if he picks up on it, but he clearly has no intention of leaving the two of us alone to explore our gentle flirting.

“Great day for the beach,” he says, and we nod.

“Gorgeous,” Holland replies.

“Not as many people as I would have expected,” I add, desperate for anything to fill the uncomfortable cloud surrounding us.

I can see Holland holding in a smile, and I love that she knows how awkward this is too.

I’m about to excuse myself to join another group, rather than endure this agony, when Jesse, Spence, Eli, and Sweeny do us a huge favor by ripping off their shirts and plunging into the water.

Casey and Callie pull to a stop, and I’m not at all surprised that Casey jumps to join them.

He drags Callie after him as she screams, laughing and trying to smack him away at the same time.

“Oh my gosh, they are so adorable,” Holland observes.

I glance over, basking in the momentary warmth of watching the happiness of my two closest friends.

“They’re for real,” I say.

“Almost gives you hope, huh?”

My stomach drops. I can’t even respond, and she studies me hard, confusing me with all kinds of emotions. I’ve completely forgotten about Wes. So has she.

“Hope is a complicated word,” I manage finally.

After another long silence, she nods and focuses back on our companions.

“Come on guys! You need to get in here! The water is so warm!” They’re calling to us, waving us in from the shore.

Holland laughs. “We should. Let’s go!”