Page 32 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

“Uh, no. I’m pretty sure you made a mistake.”

“You’re not Jeff Sweeny?”

“No, I am but…”

“Catering event, far north parking lot, black tour bus, phone number 281-3…”

“No, I got it! I mean, I get that it’s me it’s just…”

“So it is you? Look, seriously, man, I’ve got a hundred pies here getting cold.”

I can’t breathe. I’m pretty sure I’m literally dying. I can’t even look at another soul right now and focus on the floor.

“I don’t have that kind of cash on me!”

“We take credit.”

“Ok, but…” Then, he freezes. “Wait….no…no fucking way….” he breathes, his eyes darting toward the back of the bus. I follow his stare and almost lose it completely at Jesse and Parker’s perfect disinterest in the events. They’re back to zombie-killing, gazes fixed solidly on the TV.

“Seriously, dude. Are you paying for this or what? Do I need to call my manager?”

“Fuck!” Sweeny cries in exasperation, pulling out his wallet. “No, I got it. Fuck! Give him your card too,” he barks at Eli who still looks monumentally confused. “We’re splitting this.”

“What? But…”

Sweeny points to the Limelight boys, and Eli’s eyes widen. “No! Those little shits!”

I can’t hold it in anymore and the laugh escapes before I can stop it. They turn on me, eyes blazing, and I hold up my hands.

“Dude, I had nothing to do with this! I swear!”

They curse again and exit the bus to properly confront the delivery guy and claim their bounty. I’m still laughing as I glance back at Holland, startled by her giant grin.

“Wait…you? No…” I whisper in disbelief.

She just shrugs. “I may have helped with the brainstorming session.”

All lingering doubts are removed when Jesse and Parker emerge to exchange a casual fist bump with Holland on their way to the door.

“Be prepared to run,” she advises them, and they give her a grin.

“We got this,” Jesse assures her. They begin their descent, and we rush to the window to watch the coming confrontation.

“Oh, sweet! Is that pizza? I’m starving!”

I had no clue musicians could run so fast.

The meet and greet is particularly tiresome tonight.

It’s this void in my head, normally a vacuum I can fill with whatever present is necessary for survival, but now is increasingly filled with Holland.

Her smile, her music, her incredible mind, and yes, the way she feels when my hands slide over her addictive body.

The way my own ignites when she claims me every chance she gets.

I’m aching for her, and the constant stream of attention from women who aren’t her is becoming more than I can bear.

I don’t know how many autographs I sign, photos I take, and invitations I turn down, but it can’t be more than every other night. It’s still an eternity by comparison.

“You ok, man?” Casey asks when it looks like we’re finally about to be released for the night.

“Yeah, fine, why?”

“Um, well, for starters you almost made that one girl cry.”

My brain does a quick index but comes up with nothing. “What are you talking about? What girl?”

He seems annoyed. “I don’t know. The girl with the…the…” His emphatic hand gestures are certainly earnest, but do nothing to turn air into nouns. “I don’t know what you call those things. The old man hat.”

“Fedora?”

“Sure, whatever. That girl.”

“She was upset?” I ask, surprised. I do remember her now.

Her name was Evie I think, and she wasn’t wearing a fedora, but some newsboy cap looking thing.

I made a comment about it, which I feared she misinterpreted as interest when she invited me to a club later with her friends.

I thought I nailed the rejection, but maybe not.

Casey shrugs. “She called you an asshole as she walked away.”

I wince. “Yeah? Well, sorry I didn’t want to go out with her friends. Or any of the other twenty offers I got. I thought I was nice about it.”

“Anyway, whatever, you just seem off right now, that’s all.”

I’m not sure what he means by “off,” since my “on” has never exactly been well-documented. But I do know I’m not interested in finding out at the moment. “I’m going to go meet Holland,” I say. “You getting Callie?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think we’re all heading into the city tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Do you know what you’re doing yet?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’ll check with Callie and the guys but I’m sure Sweeny and Eli will want to hit up Neptune while we’re here. When they come up for air with those brunettes, we can ask.”

I make a face. “Really? I hate that place.”

“Lots of hot models in bikinis.”

I roll my eyes. “Exactly. Hot models in bikinis who expect to be acknowledged.”

“We don’t have to go. We can split up and do something else.”

But my brain seems to have even less interest in event planning. It was a long night and I just want to see Holland. “Whatever you want to do is fine. Just text me the details.”

I say goodbye to Casey and motion to Eli and Sweeny that I’m leaving.

They nod their response, and I’m off in search of Holland.

I’m hoping she’s finished with her fans and glance at my phone to see if she’s sent any updates.

There is a message, but it’s from an unknown number. I open it and my pulse picks up.

You were amazing tonight. Can’t wait to meet up later. Been a while, huh.

I hope it’s a wrong number, but man, those odds are terrible.

Casey was right. Eli and Sweeny have their horny little hearts set on The Neptune Club, but Casey, Callie, Holland, and I opt for the admittedly less trendy, but much classier Region 3 bar.

Sure, our tabs will be identical, but at least the four of us have zero chance of being soaked by bikini-clad models grinding us on the dance floor. That’s an undisputed win in my book.

The obvious loss of the evening, however, comes in the form of Wes and Spence who also choose Region 3 over the Neptune models.

This twist surprises everyone but Holland and me, and it’s everything I can do to keep the glare in my chest from spilling onto my face as I meet her at the buses to wait for the others.

“You ok?” Holland asks, slipping her arms around my waist.

“Fine,” I mutter.

She searches my eyes and sighs. “Is this about Wes going with us to the bar? You know there’s absolutely no way he doesn’t go.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it. The guy is ridiculous.”

“I know. But maybe it’s good.”

My gaze shoots to hers and the glint in her expression when she smiles seriously threatens my bad mood. “Good? How could being stalked by Nanny Wes possibly be good?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess this is the way I see it.

I’ve had to watch you all night, the way you own that stage, basically enslave everyone else in the stadium to your will.

It kind of wrecked me, Luke. You know, filled my dirty mind with a long list of wicked, vile things I want to do to you.

” Her eyes slide over me, exposing her desire and releasing a violent surge of fire.

“And of course, you’ve been undressing me since the moment I met you by the door.

Even now, I can tell my clothes are being scattered all over this shady parking lot.

” Her tone is so steady, so measured, and making me completely crazy.

“So given all of that, yeah, I just don’t see any way we go to that bar tonight and leave with our reputations intact without Wes.

He’s saving our good names. We should be thanking him. ”

She’s only making me hate him more.

I let out my breath in exasperation. “Or we could have found a private place to work through our ‘temptations.’” I slip my hand over her ass for good measure and savor her surprised gasp. She glares at me, but I suspect it’s because she liked it, not because she didn’t.

“Someone is going to see us!” she warns, swatting me away.

I grin and shrug. “If they do, I’ll let you give me a very dramatic slap. The press will love it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You would too.”

“Par for the course, darling. A necessary evil when you have an entire stadium of women lusting after you.”

“Oh, please. So now you’re going to get all cocky?”

Her grin betrays her, and I have to kiss her.

I feel her everywhere inside me, my body screaming for even the slightest drop of relief.

I actually curse when I catch the shadow moving toward us, preventing our last chance to release before the brutal night of forced friendship. She sees it too and quickly pulls away.

“Not sure how much longer I can do this,” I warn quietly against her ear as we resume our friend stance.

“Neither am I,” she tosses back. “But we don’t have a choice unless you’re ready for the media explosion.”

I sigh. I’m so not.

I squint toward the shadow that begins to materialize into hints. It’s clearly a woman, but not Callie. Maybe Tess? She seems too tall for Tess, though.

Oh shit, the shadow isn’t Tess. My heart just about crashes into my ribs.

I start screaming, wailing, and lashing out with a riot of emotions, but none manage to escape my head as I stare at the approaching figure in horror. I fear I’ll be sick, but that would be too merciful of an end to this nightmare.

“Hey, stranger,” she purrs, slinking up to us.

She casts Holland a quick look, but I don’t dare to do the same.

I can’t breathe. “You’re a difficult man to track down.

I figured you’d wait for me.” She’s expecting a response, they both are, I’m sure, and my brain scrambles for words as my pulse thrashes against my veins.

This isn’t happening. There’s no way I’m awake, or alive, or…

“Luke? Hello?” She waves her hand in front of my face which would have been rude even if she wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life.

“What are you doing here, Laurel?”