Page 17 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

“Both, really. My mom and her sister.”

Holland straightens in surprise, and I almost laugh at her look. “Wait. Your mom is American?”

I grin and nod. “Yes. So am I.”

“Um…ok, I don’t remember reading that. But your dad wasn’t, obviously.”

I shake my head. “No. They met in Johannesburg while my mom was modeling, so we lived there.”

“Is your mom still alive?”

I shrug. “I have no idea. I doubt it.”

She settles against me, still grasping my hand, and once again I marvel at the effect of her touch. “Wow. I guess that answers my questions about immigration and work visas. And why you’re so damn beautiful.”

I laugh. “You’re not even kidding about that are you.”

I can feel her grin. “Maybe.” Then she grows serious again. “Ok, so now you’re what, thirteen, fourteen? And in Houston with your aunt. Tell me about the music.”

“The music, huh.”

“It’s in you, Luke. Deeply embedded like no one I’ve ever met. I’ve seen it a couple times now. It takes my breath away. Do you not get what it does to people when they witness it?”

I stare at the palm trees lining the pool area as I consider her words, strangely touched, uneasy. “The music…” I repeat to myself. Facts I can do.

“Ok, well, I guess it started with my dad actually. He was a musician. He knew he was dying and gave me his guitar. He told me it was so that I’d take care of it, but I always knew it was supposed to be a lifeline for me to hold onto after he was gone.

” I quiet, my chest getting heavy again.

I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath.

“He knew what would happen next,” I continue quietly.

“He fought as hard as he could for as long as he could. Somehow, even as a kid I sensed he didn’t want to leave me alone with her.

” I stop again. I can’t do any more with that part and draw in a ragged breath before I lose myself.

I only agreed to facts. “Anyway, so yeah. It was just me and my guitar most days. When I was scared, lonely, hungry, in pain, Percy was always there, pulling my head back above water. I guess that’s where the music came from. ”

“Percy?” she asks. I glance over at the wavering in her voice and now I’m certain I can see a glisten in her eyes.

I swallow and quickly look away. “Yeah, I named my guitar Percy. I have no idea why. It was my best friend, often my only one. Too important not to have a name, I guess.”

She nestles closer, and I can feel my own guard slipping. I’m not crying in front of her. It’s not going to happen.

“What? You’ve never named one of your instruments?” I ask before I get lost back in that horrible place.

She chuckles. “No, but I am now. I think my guitar would be Sam.”

I grin. “Sam? Boy Sam or girl Sam?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. That’s why I like Sam.”

“Ok, that’s fair. Sam it is.”

“Where’s Percy now?” she asks.

“In my room.”

She pulls away again, and I love the look on her face. “Really? You still have him?”

I laugh. “Of course. He goes with me everywhere.”

“I want to meet him!” she cries.

My eyes widen in disbelief. “What, like right now?”

“Yes! Right now! You need to introduce us.” She jumps up from the seat and moves toward the stairs. “Come on!”

It’s all so funny, so sweet, I can’t even argue with her. “Ok! Geez. I’m coming.”

She tosses a towel at me as I reach the deck, and this time doesn’t even pretend not to study me as I dry off. It’s fine. I’ve given up pretending I’m not captivated by her.

“God, you’re pretty much perfect, aren’t you,” she mutters, and I glance at her, then laugh.

“Um…did you not hear a word I just said? I’m a fucking disaster.”

She doesn’t smile, which surprises me. “Maybe, but we’re all disasters. Perfection is finding that one disaster that makes sense with yours.”

I don’t know what to do with that. She’s confusing me again with her maddening push and pull. “I thought we agreed my particular disaster wasn’t good for anyone.”

It comes out more bitter than I intended, but her “honesty” is starting to grate on me.

We can’t be together. Got it. So then why are we still pretending?

Why is she still sending these cryptic signals?

And why the hell is she looking at me like she wants to shove me against the wall and rip my shorts off? My pulse is attacking my will again.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not being fair,” she admits quietly, and I feel badly for hurting her.

She wasn’t being fair, but I can tell she truly understands her offence and regrets her lack of control.

The thing is, I understand it. I can’t control myself around her either.

We’re playing with fire, we both know it, and we’re both dangerously addicted.

It’s all right there in the pulsating tension between us.

The looks, the stolen touches, the simmering flame just waiting for us to show weakness and explode into something we can’t restrain.

“Look, maybe we should just cancel this whole ‘friends’ thing,” I say after a long pause. Her eyes shoot to mine, and I soften. “I just don’t know how to be friends with you, Holland. And I think you’re having the same problem.”

“Luke…”

I give her a sad smile and sling the towel over my shoulder. “I’m not upset. I have complete respect for you and your rules. I even agree with them. I’m not sure I’m ready for a relationship anyway. I may never be, and even if I was, no one would be ready for one with me.”

“Luke…stop…”

“No, it’s ok. Seriously, thanks for the time we’ve had. It really has been amazing, but we’re not helping ourselves by doing this.” I start toward the door of the building.

“Luke!”

I know I owe her a chance to speak as well, but I don’t think I can handle it. She has this way of cutting through my walls, and I need them as strong as possible right now. I keep going.

“Luke, please! Just stop for one second!”

I close my eyes. I can’t, can I? But god, I want to so badly.

I sigh and turn, immediately regretting it. She’s there, inches away.

“No,” she says. “No, it’s not ok.” And her lips collide with mine.

My body erupts in an immediate rush of fire I know I’ll never contain.

I let her push me back against the wall of the pool deck, her fingers locked in my hair, mine in hers, pulling ourselves into each other.

I can feel my skin absorbing hers with a desperation that’s knocking the air from our lungs.

Minutes, hours, days of starvation explode on us, finally unleashing that reckless exploration of the forbidden.

Our mouths, our hands, fight for every inch they can control, struggling to connect in an impossible union that will lead to the one place we both agreed we can’t go. We won’t go.

And suddenly, I’m terrified. How much of this is her?

Me? How much is my need to be close to someone again?

Her getting sucked into my deadly vortex?

How much am I going to destroy her when this all crashes down?

Because it will. It’s going to crash so hard and I’m going to have another victim I care about on my conscience.

I groan and push her away. “Stop! Wait.” My body is screaming. It’s never going to forgive me for this. I can see the hunger in her eyes as well, just ravaging us as we stare, breathing hard.

“This isn’t what you really want,” I whisper, searching her eyes with an anguish she returns.

“It is, Luke. I do. Please.” Her lips find mine again, her fingers sliding down my chest, circling my waist in a grip that sends my blood pounding to every cell, every recess of my being.

She’s tugging at my suit now, lower, oh god.

She’s so close, I know she can feel every hard inch of how much I want her too.

She positions herself perfectly to invite it all, and I swear I hear the slightest groan as she pulls my hips into hers in an impossible invitation.

Her intoxicating form is totally surrendered, her mouth denying me any arguments as she breathes me in.

I’m going to lose if I don’t stop this. We both will.

Oh shit. A couple years ago I wouldn’t have thought twice and now…

It takes every ounce of self-hatred I have left to force her hands away and gently push her back. “No. No!” I search her eyes. “You’re about to hook up with me. You don’t hook up with musicians, especially on tour.”

She shakes her head and closes the gap again, taking my face in her hands. “I know, but I don’t care about the rules anymore. The rules are bullshit!”

I flinch and pull away. “No, they’re not. They’re important to you. And they’re good. So good… Don’t you see what’s happening? This is what I do to people, Holland! This is how I hurt them! I infect them and turn them against themselves. I’m not doing it anymore. I’m not doing it to you!”

I know she’s hurt, but I’m completely gutted as I remove her hands from me and launch toward the lobby. This time, I’m running from myself as much as her.

“Luke, stop! Wait!”

She’s coming after me, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to keep fighting this. I frantically press the button to the elevator, but of course it doesn’t open in time to rescue us from this mess. She catches up just in time to jump in with me.

“We’re talking about this,” she states firmly. “You wanted that as much as I did. You still do. I know you do!”

I shake my head. “There’s nothing else to say.” I barely even notice the chill of the air conditioning on my wet body as the ice inside spreads to the surface. I can feel it begin to calm the fire, dissolve the warmth. I’m able to shutdown better than anyone.

“So what, you’re just going to deny what’s happening between us?”

“No, I’m going to ignore it,” I quip.

“What? How can you possibly ignore what just happened?”

I only shrug, knowing it’ll upset her. She curses and throws up her hands. “Seriously? God, you’re infuriating!”

I study the light moving over each number above the door. One… Two... Three.

“Again, as advertised, right?”