Page 26 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

I can’t bring myself to discuss this past year yet, the chair, my gross betrayal the night of Elena’s death, but I do admit to my struggle with depression and the battle that will probably follow me the rest of my life. She understands and says one of her sisters deals with the same condition.

We’re both disappointed by the knock on the door, but not surprised when we glance at the clock on the wall.

“Crap! It’s so late!” she laughs, jumping to her feet. She had put her top back on a while ago, and I rise to grab my own shirt off the floor. I’ve just slipped it over my head when she opens the door to reveal the last person I want to see at that moment.

“Hey, Wes. Did they finish the sound check?”

His eyes sear me from across the room, and I do my best to pretend not to notice.

“Yeah, they’re finished. Just checking to see if you wanted to grab something to eat quick from catering.” He stops, and this time I decide to face his hatred head-on. “But I guess you’re busy.”

Holland has to notice the tension, but chooses to let it go. “No, it’s fine. We’re finishing up. You want to get some food?” she asks, turning to me. I almost say yes just to annoy Wes, but I’m pretty sure I’d regret it once the satisfaction of the “up yours” wore off.

“Actually, I should get going and check in with the others. You go ahead,” I say, moving toward the door as if it’s not going to take every reserve of strength I have to pass within five feet of Wes without hitting him.

“You sure?” Holland seems disappointed, but I cast her a sincere smile.

“Yeah. We’ll catch up later, ok?” I assure her. We exchange a knowing look that I’m sure Wes doesn’t miss.

“Hey, man, sorry about your phone getting hacked,” he sneers as I move past him. “That’s gotta suck. Those girls were pretty hot, though.”

I glare at him, but manage to keep my fists from smashing his face as I move into the hallway. I guess the secret’s out.

I’ve put it off long enough. Now that I know the new false “truth” about the phone hack is public, I don’t really have a choice anyway. I have to come clean to Callie and Casey, and I send them a message to meet me at the bus.

I don’t have to wait long when they board with concerned looks on their faces.

“Luke, before you begin, please let us say something,” Callie blurts as she drops beside me on the lounge. “We’ve been trying to get you all day! We’re sorry, ok? Whatever happened in Charlotte doesn’t change anything. We should have been more supportive and understanding.”

Her sincerity cuts into me, and I’m filled with a mixture of warmth, regret, and fear. I guess we’ll see how sincere they are when they’re forced to confront my latest lie.

I swallow and brace myself. “Well, that’s why I called you here.

I have to confess something about what happened in Charlotte.

” I can tell they want to interrupt, but I don’t give them the chance.

“I didn’t go out that night. I just walked around a bit and got some air.

” I suck in a deep breath and finally meet their surprised gazes.

“I leaked old photos because I didn’t want them talking about you anymore, Cal. ”

I stop and allow the shock to settle. Even though they’re more accustomed to my infuriating, confusing love than anyone, they’re still struggling with this one. The silence seems to go on for hours, but I’m sure it’s only a few seconds before I’m being tackled against the backrest of the couch.

“What is wrong with you?” Callie cries, nestling into my shoulder.

I chuckle and shake my head. “God, I have no idea. You know that.”

She pulls back with a stern look, but the glisten in her eyes gives her away.

“Ok, first of all. That was so stupid! You can’t do that, Luke!

You have got to start worrying about yourself!

Taking care of you!” She actually smacks my shoulder, and then sits back to take a breath.

“And second of all…” she stops and hugs me again while Casey only shakes his head behind her.

“Are you fucking serious, man?” he mutters in disbelief.

I shrug. “We’re going to say my phone was hacked.”

“Hacked by its owner, the biggest idiot on this planet! You let us all shred you!” Casey curses again.

I look away. “Yeah, well, maybe it wasn’t the best plan.”

“It was a freaking idiotic plan! Dude, that is so messed up. Why didn’t you at least tell us?”

“I was afraid you’d be upset and try to interfere which would only make things worse.”

“Um, yeah, we would have, you dork!” Callie cries, swatting my arm. “What were you thinking?”

I laugh again at the ironic question. “I wasn’t, that’s the problem. I just…I don’t know.”

She moves onto the cushion beside me, turning my face to hers and staring me down. “Luke Craven, it’s Straight Talk Time. Don’t you ever, ever , do something like that again, got it? I mean, ever!”

I grin and shrink a bit. “I won’t.”

“You better not!” She crosses her arms and glares at the clock. “You’re lucky you need to go get ready for the show right now, but don’t get too comfortable. I’m not even close to done with you!”

Casey shoots me an amused look. “Wow. This is a whole new level of Callie-fire. Good luck, man.”

“Ok, ok! I get it! I’m sorry!” I cry, holding up my hands in surrender.

She continues to glare at me, even as she wraps her arms around me in another hug. “This is what I wanted that night, Luke. I needed a hug, not to watch someone I love and care about self-destruct. Losing you was so much more painful than the silly rumors.”

I sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m getting that now.”

“Do you?”

I grin and lean back. “Actually, I think I do.”

We’re not rolling out to our next stop until the morning, so the consensus is to let off steam at a local club after the show.

Even Jesse and the Limelight guys are in, so as much as I dread the thought of an evening with Holland in the seductive atmosphere of a club under the watchful eye of her babysitter Wes, I accept that this is one social obligation I can’t avoid.

Still reeling from our afternoon in the dressing room, I had made the mistake of stalking her performance from backstage later that night.

Huge error, since now I can’t get her out of my head.

I watch her in the car to the club, as she moves a few paces ahead on her way to the door, study her arm intertwined with Callie’s.

She’s gorgeous, as always, but it’s how she’s able to plow right through my epic bullshit and completely stir the dormant core underneath that’s got me glued to her every move.

It doesn’t help that her own eyes keep wandering toward me, plunging deep into my soul before tracing every line of my body through my clothing.

We both know what we want. We both know we’re not going to be able to have it right now.

We laugh and joke with the others, settling on opposite sides of the table when the hostess shows us to a private area.

But that electricity is always there, sparking, waiting for the moment when the hidden glance creeps from a safe conversation with the others to the burning longing for each other just out of reach.

My head is a mess, my body fully charged, and when she finally grabs my hand to dance, I’m sure she’s lost her mind.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I warn as she drags me toward the dance floor.

“It’s a terrible idea, but I don’t care. I have to touch you and figured this was better than tackling you at the table,” she tosses back, sending my hot blood on a rampage.

She turns without warning and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into her.

I immediately feel the tension release and build at the same time, tearing apart anything left of my will.

My hands move over her as well, her smooth back, her perfect ass, and when she sucks in her breath to absorb my touch, I don’t know how to stop myself from kissing her. I need her. I need us.

She meets my lips with a hunger that ravishes both of us, and for a brief moment there is no club.

No dance floor, no music, no dizzying mix of tightly pressed bodies.

There’s nothing, no one, just Holland and Luke, together, filling each other with something we can’t explain and can’t get enough of.

But we’re not alone. We have a huge audience, and part of who we are means we don’t get to make our own choices.

We both understand that all too well when she quickly pulls back and rests her head against my cheek instead.

She doesn’t have to explain further as I hold her against me. We’re both thinking the same thing. Hoping no one saw our stolen kiss, forced to finish the heated encounter in our heads as our firm bodies melt into each other, all under the pretense of moving to music we can’t even hear.

But we’re not as strong as we’d hoped, and soon it’s her hands making the exploration, her secret sin.

I close my eyes, trying to hold myself together, even as she works to unravel me.

Her fingers slip under my shirt, spreading a searing heat up my chest, around my waist, then clinging to the edge of my jeans and eliminating any protective gap between us.

My pulse is pounding, my breath short as she tortures me, but there’s no way I can bring myself to stop her.

I don’t want mercy. I want her hands on me as much as she seems determined to take every inch she can get.

It’s all hers, whatever she wants, whatever she can get away with in this dangerous moment.

Her eyes rise to meet mine, pleading with me, trapped in the same impossible crisis that I am. In this place designed for crowds, we need to be alone. We need…I stop cold.