Page 37 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

He fights so hard without knowing it – he fights for me

He touches people without trying

Jesse! How he looks out for him and turns his scars into someone else’s lifeline

He has no idea how amazing he is, even though everyone else can see it

He makes me feel like I’m the most important person in his universe

He needs me and I want to be needed

Cons:

He doesn’t believe in himself. Maybe he never will. Can I believe enough for both of us? Do I have a choice when the thought of living without him causes physical pain?

I stare at the note. Reading, re-reading. I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know what words could possibly come next. The fact that she has any pros leaves me speechless. The fact that this is her heart leaves me breathless.

“Keep it,” she whispers as I start to fold it back up to return to her. “Let it replace the other one.”

I feel the hot prick of tears in my eyes as I nod and grip the priceless treasure in my hand. I still don’t know what to say, and do the only thing that makes sense at that moment: take her hand and determine to never let go.

“That’s it there. Second house on the left,” Holland directs to the driver, and I follow her instructions as well.

Sure enough, an adorable brick two-story is packed narrowly among a line of similar structures on the well-kept street.

A middle-aged couple rises from their porch chairs at the approach of our cab and Holland is already out of her seat.

“That’s them,” Holland explains with a grin I know will stay with me for a long time.

“You go. I’ll take care of the cab,” I offer, and she sheds twenty years as she claps her hands and launches from the car toward her parents.

I pay the fare, barely able to count out the correct change with my eyes constantly wandering toward the reunion on the small porch.

I finally complete my assignment and venture from the protective shelter of the car.

Holland glances back, and I know the topic has turned to me.

She must notice my hesitant approach and bounds toward me with nearly the same enthusiasm.

“Mom, Dad, this is Luke. Luke, this is Annie and James.”

I force my best smile. It’s not hard when faced with the sincere examples that greet me. “Mr. and Mrs. Drake,” I acknowledge, shaking their hands.

“I’m pretty sure she said Annie and James,” her father corrects, and my forced smile turns genuine.

“Sorry. Annie and James.”

Annie studies me, and I don’t miss the look she exchanges with her daughter. Her eyebrows rise in approval, and it’s everything I can do to keep a straight face.

“So cute,” I hear her whisper as her father waves me inside.

I’m assaulted by the smell of home-cooked food and potpourri as we duck into the foyer, my eyes adjusting to the clean and humble surroundings. Not at all what I was expecting, but then again, I didn’t really have expectations.

“You can leave your shoes there by the door,” James instructs, and I slide them off to add to the row. Holland does the same and takes my arm, still glowing.

“Are Sylvie and Hannah here yet?” she asks.

“Unfortunately, Hannah couldn’t get off work, but she will find another time to see you while you’re here. Sylvie’s in the basement with Emma. Go tell them you’re here.”

Holland gives me a conspiratorial look. “Ok, so I should have told you this before, but I know how you get.”

I brace myself. “Oh no. What?”

She gives me a sheepish look and leans close. “My sister Sylvie is kind of a huge NSB fan. Like, ridiculously obsessed. Way more than I am,” she teases, and I shake my head with a grin.

“Oh, I see. So now you tell me.”

“I’m warning you now, right? Can you please do me a favor and just show up in our basement?”

I stare at her in disbelief. “Wait, what? Does she not know I’m coming?”

Holland bites her lip and shakes her head with a mischievous glint. “No. I made my parents swear not to tell her. She thinks she’s meeting you after Friday’s show.”

My eyes widen. “Seriously? Does she know we’re…together?”

She shakes her head again and holds her finger to her lips. “No. None of them do. I wanted to talk to them about it in person. I told them we’d become close. They don’t know how close.”

I sigh. “Ok. Well, hang on then, I have a better idea. Do you have a guitar here?”

She squints at me for a second before nodding. “Yes…”

“Just trust me.”

“Ok, be right back.”

I wait as she disappears down the hall, and her mother peeks in from the kitchen.

“Did she just leave you there?”

“She’s getting something for me,” I assure her with a smile.

“Did she tell Sylvie and Emma you’re here?”

“We’re about to.”

Annie nods. “Do you like lasagna?”

“I love it.”

“That’s a relief because she made way too much like usual,” James’ voice calls from somewhere behind the wall.

“Oh shush. You like to take it for your lunches.”

“For a few days, not a few weeks.”

Annie rolls her eyes toward me, and I return a grin. “He loves it,” she mouths, then disappears back into the kitchen.

Holland returns with the guitar, a mid-range Martin that’s in surprisingly poor condition.

“What happened to this?” I laugh as she hands it to me.

“You have Percy. This is Sam,” she explains, beaming. “I just prefer to leave Sam at home for Emma who’s starting to get into it.”

A sense of reverence washes over me as I take the precious instrument. “Thanks, Holland. It’s gorgeous.”

She nods. “It was my first real guitar. I had another one before it, but this was from when I first got serious about music.” She rubs her hands. “Ok, so what’s the plan?”

I clear my head and focus back on the door to the basement. “Well, I don’t know. How far down in the basement would they be?”

“There’s a small finished section right at the base of the stairs. They’re probably watching TV.”

“Ok, perfect.”

I open the door quietly and work my way down a few steps, careful to make as little sound as possible.

Once I find a good spot I lower myself to the carpet and adjust the guitar in my arms. I glance up at Holland and give her a quick smile, loving the look on her face as she begins to comprehend my plan.

Then, without warning, I launch into my favorite acoustic rendition of “Greetings from the Inside.”

The volume of the TV drops instantly, followed by literal screams as a young woman who must be Sylvie turns the corner and spots me on her steps.

Emma races up behind her big sister and starts grinning as well, although with the shy cool of a self-conscious teenager.

The commotion draws Holland’s parents, and before I know it, I’m trapped on the stairwell by an adoring Drake family.

I cast another glance at Holland and nearly fumble at the glisten in her eyes.

I can hear the smile in my own voice as I look away again and finish the song.

“Oh. My. Gosh. No. Freaking. Way.” Sylvie cries, rushing up the stairs. I stay rooted in my place so she can reach me and hold out my hand.

“Hi, I’m Luke,” I say, and she nods, eyes wide with shock.

“Um. Duh,” she replies, and I laugh.

“You must be Sylvie.”

“Oh, gosh, that accent!” she blurts to Holland. Now, Holland’s laughing.

“Yep.”

“You’re... Like…on my steps! Why are you on my steps? Why is Luke Craven on my steps?” she demands from her sister.

“He’s here for dinner,” Holland replies casually.

“Here? Like, with us? Oh, crap, my hair!” She pats her head to hide it, even though I think she looks adorable.

“I like your hair. It’s cute,” I say, and she just about faints.

“He likes my hair. He…”

“Sylvie. Sentences, darling,” Holland counsels. “She speaks fluent English, I swear,” Holland assures me.

“Ha. Ha,” Sylvie returns, making a face. “I’m sorry, but I bet you reacted the same way when you first met him. Did she tell you what she did when her manager said they were touring with you?”

“Sylvie! Don’t you dare!” Holland cries, and now my interest is piqued.

“No, she didn’t. Just that it was a good career boost for her.”

“Yeah, it was. She also listened to all your albums like a million times for two weeks straight. Morning, noon, and night. Oh! And kept gushing about your genius…blah, blah, blah. Seriously, I’ve got all the texts to prove it.”

“Sylvie!”

I laugh. “Really? Wow. I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, she stole them too. Downloaded them from my account. Didn’t even pay for them.”

“Oh my god, Sylvie!” Holland grabs my arm and starts yanking me up the stairs.

“What? It’s the truth. She owes you like fifty bucks!” Sylvie calls after us.

When we reach the top, her parents are doing their best to hide their laughter, and draw to an abrupt stop when they see us. Holland’s glare turns on them. “Seriously? I’m home for thirty seconds and you have to embarrass me in front of my boyfriend?”

We all freeze. Their expressions change, and I swallow, the previous butterflies transforming into cyclones in my stomach. Holland realizes her slip as well and blushes.

“Boyfriend?” her father asks, gazing back and forth between us.

She takes my arm and glances up at me briefly before focusing back on her family. “Ok, so, remember how I told you I wanted to talk to you about something?” she begins hesitantly.

They clearly remember. They clearly didn’t think this was going to be the topic.

“Luke and I have gotten close. Like, really close. Like bring him home to meet my family close.” She gives them a sheepish look. “Surprise.”

There’s another brief moment of silence before five bodies jump at the sudden, ear-splitting screech erupting from behind us. Sylvie Drake launches herself into my arms, almost knocking me into the wall.

“No way! No freaking way! No way no way no way!” There’s no air left in my lungs when she’s done with me and turns her passionate approval on her sister.

“Ahh! I can’t believe this! This is amazing!” she cries, clinging to her sister. “Luke Craven is going to be my brother-in-law!”

Holland only laughs and returns her embrace. “Um…way ahead of yourself, hon.”